Kindergarten was a shock. School mystified me. Noise, rows of children in the
hallways, bright lights, expectations… I had no idea what to do. My solution? I copied the other children: lining up with them, following them outside for recess, coloring the pages, looking at books, now that I liked.
The teacher puzzled me. Her lips were moving, but she was also turning her
head. What did she say? What was I supposed to do? Why did she frown at me? At home, I would be in trouble for not obeying her. It was so frustrating!
It’s no wonder I dawdled on the way to school, putting off the inevitable stress. Internally, I talked with my imaginary friend, Honey. I no longer recall our conversations, but they made me happy. Honey stayed with me until I turned nine. Perhaps she left because I found an escape in books.
Soon, after entering that confusing new world, I arrived home with a note from my teacher. ‘Patty cannot function in our classroom’.
Shocked, my mom called her mother and started bawling. “I know something is wrong, but what?”
That evening, we visited Grandma Hixenbaugh. Uncle Ralph was talking to me, and I answered him. Then I felt an ominous silence. Looking around the room, everyone was staring at me. Why? Because Uncle Ralph was not using his voice, I was lipreading him. This was a defining moment in my life.
“Verna, I think you better get Patty’s hearing checked,” said Grandma.
In short order, I started wearing a box hearing aid that clipped to my undershirt. The long thin cord snaked up to the big button in my ear. With a click, I went from silence to a world that sounded like either white noise or a loud buzz. The noise was always louder than speech which made it harder to distinguish words. Dad had trouble understanding that all the hearing aid did was give me volume, not clarity for speech. It is a common misunderstanding.
At the same time, I started lessons at the Speech and Hearing Clinic. With my
severe hearing loss diagnosed and steps taken to remedy my problems, I was allowed to stay in public school. It was determined that I lost my hearing at age eight months from pneumonia. Why the loss was not discovered earlier, I have no idea. I do not think this would happen today, at least I hope not. School is enough of a mystery for young children.
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