HOSPITALIZED ...AND...HARD OF HEARING From Trauma to Triumph (Almost) by Lydia Cruzen SHHH Journal March/April 1991 The good news was that the surgery would not be all that serious. The bad news, from my point of view at least, was that I would have to go to the hospital. Now I know that no one else out there is able to worry a snowball nto an avalanche as well as I do, right? With my doctor's confirmed diagnosis that I would have to enter the hospital for surgery, worry about my hospital stay soon pre-occupied all my thoughts. My main concern was not the surgery. My trepidation centered on how I would be able to cope with my hearing loss while in the hospital. For me, and for people like me who are hard of hearing, stress over our ability to communicate is stretched to the maximum at a time of illness or worry. With my impending hospitalization, my fears ran wild. How do I tell the recovery room personnel that I can't hear them? How do I hear the anesthesiologist telling me to count backwards? How can I explain how vulnerable and helpless I feel with no glasses, no clothes except for a flimsy hospital gown ... and NO HEARING AIDS? What if I need help in my room and no one comes when I push the intercom button, and the only response to my call for help is an impersonal, unintelligible voice over the public address system? How can I get my doctor, nurse, technician to talk directly to me, and not over my head to my spouse or other family member? Why am I hesitant to ask them to speak a little louder, a little more slowly, or stand a little nearer to me and make eye contact with me so that I can understand them? Is it too much for me Lu expect that a TV caption decoder or an amplified telephone be easily available to me as a hearing impaired patient, just as various prostheses and aids are available to patients with disabilities other than hearing loss? My ability to speechread and to hear properly inevitably decreases when I am ill or worried. How will I cope? As I must rely on my eyesight to compensate partially for my hearing loss, what if the nurse comes into my room at night and asks me about my condition? I can't see her face and, consequently, cannot hear her, or even know she is there. Shall I remain sleepless at night with my eyes glued on the door? Taking Responsibility - Here's How In a perfect world, I would not have to worry about all these possible problems. But reality demands that I take responsibility myself for informing and educating hospital staff about what it actually means to be hard of hearing. Further, it means that I must be responsible for learning how to deal with it in a hearing world, and for explaining clearly and simply to others how we can best communicate. With these thoughts in mind, I entered the hospital as a new patient. First stop was pre-registration and the admissions office. Here I filled out the standard form. The first observation I made there was that none of the staff asked about a hearing loss as they ran through the list of standard medical and health questions. Nor was there anything about hearing loss on the printed questionnaire. So, reviewing my game plan, I took the initiative and volunteered the information that I was bard of hearing. This generated a response and a special sticker on my chart indicating hearing loss. Score one for me for volunteering this necessary information, and for the hospital's quick response! Next stop, patient support services. Here I found that I could request, and be provided with'. a TDD and a TV caption decoder. But, none of the staff had any idea of what a flashing phone light or pocket talker were, nor even what an amplified telephone looked like. So, again taking the initiative, I politely and briefly described what these assistive listening devices were, how simple they were to operate, and how helpful and important they were to hard of hearing people. To my joy, my suggestions were welcomed! Another score for both me and the hospital! Most reassuring was the fact that the hospital staff were much more receptive to new information, and much friendlier, than I had anticipated. My surgery went well. And both before and after the procedure, my fears were considerably reduced because I could talk about them, honestly and openly to the doctors and support staff. While there were some hitches in communication, and I could not anticipate and resolve every problem, the situation was immeasurably improved over what it could have been. My advance preparations helped me to have more control over my treatment and environment. Of course there are times when a person is unable to prepare for a hospital stay - an accident, an emergency at night, a sudden or severe illness. But, as soon as you are capable of doing so, you, the patient, must let the hospital staff know that you are hard of hearing and how they can best communicate with you. It will make your treatment and recovery - and their care - a lot easier for all concerned, And it will give you peace of mind, a prerequisite for the healing process. Being silent regarding our hearing loss, nodding as if we understood, bluffing - these won't help. They not only hinder the hospital from providing prompt, responsive care, they can result in improper treatment or medication. Educate your doctor and your healthcare facility staff about how to communicate with you. Be polite and persistent. Repeat if necessary. You have spent time preparing yourself for just such a situation. Be assured that you now have more knowledge about hearing loss than do most other people who have never dcalt with hearing loss on a personal basis. Use that knowledge. Take the lead. After all, if you don't, who will? Or who should? And, while you are at it, think about the fact that what you are doing now will help the next hard of hearing patient who goes to the hospital.