Never Cease To HOPE

I was born in 88 obviously, and I'm an only child. Apparently I could hear since birth but back then, who really knew? Hearing tests weren't mandatory back then, so no one really knows if I was born hearing impaired or not. I grew up normally, spoiled little brat, only child after all. No, not really. I was spoiled yes, but with attention, not with "stuff". My parents then moved to where my Dad grew up, small little tiny, TINY town. No one has heard of it, and every time I tell people where I'm from I get the "Oh...where is that?" *sigh*

Anyway, when I was 3, my Nanny, who is my dad's mom, was babysitting me one day and she called my name. But I didn't respond. She knew there was something wrong. After all, she raised three children, two of them died of MD and she just KNEW I couldn't hear her. She told my parents, but my parents being first timers brushed her off saying I was probably still in the terrible twos stage (Me, terrible? Nah). But just before I started school, my parents noticed my speech was very...odd. I couldn't hear certain parts of my speech. Chair became share, coat became coap(no such word but that's what I called it!) they were worried, took me to a speech pathologist and I was instantly in speech lessons. Apparently my speech pathologist clued in that I wasn't hearing it and told my parents to get my hearing tested. They did and lo and behold, Nanny was right. What is it with older women being right all the time? I better be that right when I'm in my 50's!

I got fitted for hearing aids just before I turned 4, and started school soon after. What a scary thing that was! Not only was I going to school for the first time, but I was going to be around children my own age, all of whom was NORMAL. I was bullied constantly. When I say constantly, I really do mean constantly. I had balls thrown at me, chairs thrown at me, pieces of wood thrown at me, spat on, cursed at, name calling.. you name it, it happened to me. By the time I was 7, I had given up on God. I was convinced he hated me, and just wanted me to be miserable for his own amusement until eventually, someone killed me. I just came home crying and begged my parents to never let me go back to school. But of course they had to make me.

My school life never really got better until grade 7. Thats when I met a pretty awesome new teacher named Mr. McAllister. I confided in him and he was stunned. How could a school, who was within a school board policy of "ZERO TOLERANCE" for bullying, let this happen? He finally stood up for me. He told me, if someone bullied me, to come to him. I always did. I got grief for being teacher's pet, but I really didn't care. I finally found a teacher who cared ABOUT ME. He cared if I was hurt, crying or just stressed. He was my grade 7 and 8 teacher, and I enjoyed both years out of all my elementary years, because I finally had someone to stick up for me when I couldn't do it.

Of course, after grade eight came high school. Oh joy. Guess how excited I was!!!...... Yeah. Colour me green and purple and any other shade of nervousness. However, high school wasn't that bad. Yes there were a few comments here and there, but for the most part, I just got questions as to how I hear. I loved explaining it, it made me feel like I was interesting, something I hadn't felt ever in my life. I was even in band! I played bass clarinet and I loved it! My music teacher really pushed me, because he knew, hearing loss or not, I could do it. He even convinced me to be a part of band exchange, and fly to Nova Scotia. My first time flying was amusing to say the least. The flight attendant had NO idea what a hearing aid was and my music teacher decided to lecture her in front of the entire class. Oh I loved that teacher!!!

Okay, I'll let that sink in for now, as it's 2:30am my time and I deff need some sleep. I pray that some of this will show you that if I can do certain things, even tho I can't hear, SURELY you can as well. And trust me my brothers and sisters, YOU CAN!

Love and hugs,

Krista