Hear Hear!

Over recent years I have noticed something peculiar about people. They all mumble. They miss out bits of words. Children are the worst, what with their squeaky high-pitched incomprehensible rambling. Women are almost as bad. People in groups produce a wall of unintelligible and impenetrable sound. The whole world needs elocution lessons. Or... Just possibly it might be my hearing. To rule out this absurd possibility I recently attended the Audiology clinic at my local hospital. It turns out that 50% of us with Facioscapulohumeral muscular dystrophy have high frequency hearing loss. Guess which 50% I fall into. The charming audiologist placed headphones over my ears and played various sounds into each of my ears while I pressed a button if I heard anything. Often I heard burps and rumbles and I dutifully pressed away. Sometimes the machine wasn't working and I heard nothing. Eventually the audiologist used her computer to generate a graph to represent my bat-like hearing. "This line," she said, indicating a straight red line crossing the chart, "would represent perfect hearing. This blue line is you." For about two thirds of the way across the chart the blue line wobbled at fractionally below the ideal red line. Not too shabby. Unfortunately, at the final third - the third representing the higher frequencies - the line plummeted down the graph like an unsuccessful attempt at hang-gliding off Beachy Head. To remedy the situation the audiologist produced two shiny little hearing-aids and plugged them into her computer. "There," she said. "I've programmed them to compensate for the high frequencies you've lost." With that she inserted the plastic tube bit into my ear and turned them on. "You'll need to practice wearing them. It takes a while for the brain to process frequencies it hasn't heard for a while." This did indeed turn out to be the case. For the next few days my brain ascribed the same significance to all high-frequency sounds. The squeak of my tyres on the floor was accorded the same auditory status as peoples voices. The sound of a distant lawn mower the same as the television. Worst of all, our budgerigar, Cato, twittered and tweeted at the apparent same volume of a commercial airliner taking off. Eventually though my brain began to work out which sounds had significance and which could be safely relegated to background noise and a kind of sonic harmony was achieved. A few weeks later I had an appointment with the audiology consultant who was positively thrilled to discover there was a link between FSHD and high-frequency hearing loss. "Well, I've learned something new today," she said, delighted. She also suggested that the hearing-aids should have their programming tweaked now that my brain had adjusted to them so as to maximise their effectiveness. This was duly done but the result means that for the last couple of days the budgie has sounded like he's been given a megaphone. One brilliant thing though was that we had taken Sam, now 10, with us. On our way to the clinic we passed the League of Friends' cafeteria. "The League of Friends," mused Sam. "Does that mean it's run by superheroes?" "Yes," replied Polly. "All of them cunningly disguised as elderly ladies wearing tabards." Thank you for reading. If you choose to comment please write quietly and annunciate clearly. Thank you.

The Right Move

Regular readers of Quicksketch’s ‘How to be an inspiration’ blog may be familiar with a couple of lads that shared his childhood with him. May I introduce my self as being one of those two boys and I go under the blog moniker of ‘Rock God’ although the name that my mother gave me was Paul.
 
I imagine that many of you have become concerned that Quicksketch or ‘Stephen’ as his mother likes to refer to him when he’s in the dog house has not put pen to internet paper for over 8 months now and you may by now be thinking the worst.
 
Can I right from the very outset reassure you that Stephen is still very much with us and has plenty of stories yet to tell.
 
However; as you will undoubtedly be aware from this blog Stephen’s condition has begun taking a more aggressive toll on his ability to undertake many of the day to day tasks that most us take for granted. This sadly includes Stephen’s ability to write.
 
Although with the aid of an Ipad and a stylus he is still able to correspond in way of e-mail, the time it would take to construct this blog would be prohibitive as well as exhausting. Although his creative mind is as sharp and witty as ever his physical prowess is now considerably limited to short e-mail sentences.
 
Stephen’s writing style also prevents him from just kicking back and reciting his beloved words of knowledge as he likes to see the written word unravel in front of him. Well, that’s his excuse any way. Personally I can well see him reclining in his boudoir, sipping champagne and nibbling on the occasional goat hoof whilst pontificating words of wisdom to a bespectacled sycophant.
 
This being said it was brought to Stephen’s attention that his loyal readers were already in a state of withdrawal and that all those that don’t know him personally might begin to suspect that he may have gone and fallen off this mortal coil.
 
And so finally he allowed me the privilege of penning a few short words just to keep you loyal readers informed of the proceedings in the lives of the Quicksketch family.
 
The biggest piece of news is that the council of ‘wherever’ have finally got their oversized thumbs out of their collective rear ends and have granted the family new housing.
 
By new housing I mean a brand spanking new three bedroom house that is specifically equipped for the disabled including proper hoists and a lift that will allow Stephen the luxury of going upstairs to bed (myself and fellow childhood friend Darren spent a happy afternoon going up and down in this I can assure you, although we were informed by Stephen’s wife that the majority of those that had enjoyed this experience thus were actually children).
 
The house has a brand new purpose built kitchen with work tops at a lower level so that Stephen if he is inclined can actually reach things (their previous kitchen work tops were so high I had to step on tip toe and I am nearly six foot tall).
 
There are two bathrooms that will afford both Stephen and Polly the luxury (my wife would site this as a necessity) of having a long soak in a bath. It also means that Polly and the boys will be able to get themselves ready at the same time as Stephen and he will no longer have to wait until they are done with their ablutions.
 
The best part of the house is a large living room that has a magnificent view of their new garden. Yes, QS will be able to sit and enjoy the grounds of his very own estate.
 
This family have never asked for anything from anybody. Both Stephen and Polly have worked hard all their adult lives and continue to do so. They have paid their taxes and have never expected or asked for hand outs. Personally I think it is a disgrace that they have had to wait for so long for the one thing that they have needed a bit of a hand with and they certainly didn’t ask for anything that millions of people in the UK take for granted. But that noise is just me falling off of my soap box again.
 
Anyway, Darren and I were well excited with the new family dwelling and we were doubly impressed as always at how Polly held all the strands together (she took no prisoners and greeted us on the door step with tools and instructions…we had a happy afternoon dismantling things, something we do best).
 
God willing this new abode will make life considerably easier for the family and you never know, it might inspire QS to consider dictating his memoirs to a willing scribe.
 
With his blessing I will pop by from time to time and keep you up to date with what is going on in our favourite author’s world. Just please be patient, I live in another part of the country to Stephen and so I don’t have as much contact as I should or want. So please just drop in from time to time to see if anything new is up.
 
On Stephen & Polly’s behalf, thanks for your interest, concern and if you are so inclined prayers.
 
RG