This training is mainly meant as an aid for anyone who wants to give hearing people more insight into life with an auditory impairment. People with hearing impairments can use this training to raise awareness among their hearing family, friends or colleagues, but the training is also useful for professionals who work with people with hearing impairments and want to raise awareness among their clients’ hearing family, friends and/or colleagues.
Finally, this training is also recommended for hearing people who are interested in hearing impairment.
On Friday, March 24, the very first “Behinderten Session” (Session of People with Disabilties) took place in the Swiss parliament. A unique and historic event, of which I was privileged to be a part.
This day was a special session of the Swiss Parliament with exclusively elected parliamentarians with disabilities. In advance you could apply for this as a candidate Parliamentarian or as a guest. Because I do not like to promote myself (yet), I prefer to promote others or certain topics, and because out of more than 200 prospective candidates only 44 could be chosen for which you had to have an association or newspaper behind you anyway, I applied as a guest.
Last Friday was the day. Being able to walk around the beautiful Bundeshaus in Bern was just a treat. The historic building looks beautiful and impressive, as you can see in the pictures. What was equally impressive was that everywhere you looked or walked you encountered wheelchairs, assistance dogs and white canes.
Not even that long inside, I was asked by a friendly lady from Swiss radio for a short interview, to which I agreed and answered her questions about my opinion and reason for being there.
The organization of this day was excellent. The only downside was, that the distributed induction aids did not work equally well everywhere. Probably downstairs in the hall you had good reception, but upstairs on the spectator tribune unfortunately not. Following my gut feeling, I luckily brought my own induction aid, called Rogerpen, and was able to follow the debates via lifestream with – delayed – subtitles. There were also sign language interpreters and there was even a sign language interpreter present.
The content of the debates was very strong and powerful, and the chairman of the day, himself in a wheelchair, wished that people would also keep such exemplary time schedule in the daily debates. The result of the debates was a resolution that was presented to the 1st and 2nd Houses of Parliament, calling for more active and visible participation of people with disabilities in politics, that people with disabilities should be able to exercise their right to vote better and more freely, and in general be better integrated into society. Of course, wonderful words, but this is only the beginning. Now it is a matter of putting those beautiful words into practice. And in this, unfortunately, Switzerland is lagging a bit behind. For example, the UN Commission on Disability has already criticized Switzerland for not speeding up the UN decision, which was ratified in 2014.
To give another small example: in the Netherlands, people with a hearing impairment have the option of requesting about 30 hours of private interpreting, for volunteer work, birthdays, courses, and so on. Here in Switzerland, you can only request interpreting hours for work and/or study. For everything outside of that, including volunteer work, you have to pay for a sign language or text interpreter yourself or the association you are active for. That this hardly ever happens in practice, of course, because sign/text interpreters are far too expensive, may not come as a surprise.I have experienced this myself, as president on the board of a hearing-impaired association. Interpreters are just not affordable, even for a membership gathering.
Besides all the overwhelming visual impressions, the atmosphere on the Session that day was militant and enthusiastic. The 44 chosen Parliamentarians/Speakers were greeted with applause, and when the Session was over, all Parliamentarians were met with thunderous applause. Afterwards there was an aperitif with opportunity to exchange experiences and thoughts with each other. Again, several interpreters walked around, and everything was well organized. This day, this special Session received a lot of attention in the Swiss media, but for my taste it could have received even more attention. In any case, this day ensured that people with visible and invisible disabilities took center stage and their voices were heard. This was the intention and now let’s hope it does not remain just to fine words but also deeds will follow soon.
As a child I have always been fascinated by voices. Whether they were singing or speaking voices, they intrigued me, or not. For me it is so fascinating what you can do with a voice and what influence this may have (see also https://hardofhearingweb.wordpress.com/2017/02/05/voices/) Once I attended a Voice Workshop and I was so enthusiastic that I wanted to take lessons after this workshop. Unfortunately this was not the right time for me and I had to postpone this wish.
After the loss of my mother, last year, I started to focus more on the question “what is important to me in my life?” and suddenly the Voice Workshop popped up again. I finally signed up for September last year, but unfortunately had to cancel due to my accident and broken shoulder. Fortunately, this year dates became available and … yesterday was my first lesson. Of course all the Corona measures were taken during this lesson: mask, airing and keeping distance. Only those who spoke or sang took off their masks, the rest of us kept the masks on until it was our turn.
For me, someone who only sings along with music when there is really no one around to hear it, this was a very exciting event. I always assumed that I did not have a good voice and that I also sang out of tune, but yesterday this turned out to be not that bad: both the teacher and the fellow students were positive and constructively critical. According to the teacher it was very striking that I can recognize and use all tones well, despite my severe hearing impairment. When I think about it, it is indeed remarkable and I have no clear explanation for this. I did have a good language development, because I only became hearing impaired at the age of 17/18 and my hearing loss increased slowly in the early years, only later did it accelerate. But nowadays I really wouldn’t know what something sounds like “naturally” and really don’t know how I got the pitches. But apparently they are there and I am very happy about that now!
However, this course is not just about me (learning) to sing, singing is great but it is about more: I can also develop my speaking voice. Because I regularly speak in front of groups, I want not only the message but also my voice tobe clearly understood and this is also something I can work on in the course.
In short: of course I don’t imagine myself to be Freddy Mercury or Agnetha and Frida from ABBA, but secretly I enjoy the fact that I can, no, even múst, sing to their and other music.
Dear Readers, It has been quiet here on this site for some time. The reason for this were the vacation months and an unfortunate stumble early September. I tripped accidentally, lost my balance and there was a parking meter nearby where I hit my left shoulder full on. A nice bystander who saw it happen took me to the Emergency, where it turned out: dislocated shoulder, broken shoulder head in 3 places and some bone splintered. An operation appeared inevitable and fortunately my shoulder could be fixed again with a plate. Although this sounds simple, the consequences of this unwanted and unplanned limitation will last a long time. Even with physiotherapy, it will probably be a year before I can do (almost) everything with my left arm/shoulder again. At the moment I can and may move my arm a little and can also type with both hands again. Everything in moderation of course, otherwise my shoulder starts protesting with pain.
Besides canceling planned activities, this also meant that within 2.5 years I was to experience a Swiss hospital again from the inside. I have nothing but praise for the staff and service. On the day of the operation, I was a little tense when I walked to the operating room, the door opened, equipment and operating staff were ready and waiting and I was invited me to come in. Gulp … It took a while before I was able to accept this invitation and overcome my fear, no matter how friendly the invitation was.
Everyone in the hospital was kind and helpful. There was (and still is) a mask obligatory, which did make understanding speech quite tiring for me. If no one was in the room, I could take off my mask. As soon as someone came in, I had to put it back on. The first day I sometimes forgot about it because I was under painkillers and had trouble concentrating. Then I was kindly but firmly reminded. No problem of course and a small effort for me. I myself did help to remind them that I am hard of hearing and that it was important for me not to speak too quickly and clearly. That was no problem either and they were very understanding. I did wear my hearing aids day and night, just in case.
Fortunately, the operation had gone well and after about 4 days I was allowed to go home again, where I could get some rest. That rest lasted about 2 days, then I had to go to the Emergency again. Presumably due to a combination of medication/painkillers, my blood pressure shot up to enormous heights and it took a long time before they could bring it down. Examinations showed nothing out of the ordinary, but I did have to stay in the hospital overnight for observation. Fortunately, my husband was with me in the emergency room and he was able to help with the communication from time to time. At times like these, communication is so important! It is important that you understand well what is being asked or said and that you can give the right answers. But also here all praise: everyone did his best to communicate well and they had all the understanding.
Although I would have liked to skip this experience, the enormous willingness, helpfulness and friendliness that I experienced in the hospital made me appreciate the care staff even more.
Dear readers, today I would like to talk about the condition “Turner syndrome” and why many so-called Turner girls/women suffer from hearing problems. Turner’s syndrome is a genetic disorder, which, with some very rare cases of male exceptions, only girls/women can have. The characteristics differ per person. In women with Turner syndrome one of the gender hormones, the X chromosomes, is missing. Or one of the two X chromosomes has a different shape. In Turner this is usually the case in all cells. But sometimes it is only in a part of the cells. This is called a mosaic and then the characteristics are often milder. The abnormality on the X chromosome occurs before birth, immediately after fertilisation of the egg cell. In simple terms, it is a case of a small defect during fertilisation. A large proportion of pregnancies end in miscarriage due to this error. Only two percent of foetuses with this defect are actually born. Women with Turner syndrome are (almost) always short. Some have problems with the heart, kidneys, thyroid and/or hearing. For further information on the Turner syndrome itself, I would like to refer to the https://turnersyndromefoundation.org/ . Here I would like to elaborate on the Turner syndrome and hearing.
Turner women can more often suffer from middle ear infections. Because the Eustachian tube, which connects the middle ear with the throat, is sometimes constructed somewhat differently in Turner women; the pressure behind the eardrum and the pressure from outside is not always regulated properly. As a result, fluid can accumulate in the middle ear and there is an increased risk of middle ear infections, particularly in children. These infections can be treated with antibiotics, for example, and sometimes the placement of a small tube in the eardrum can help to restore normal pressure behind the eardrum. Often, the ear infections disappear after childhood. Frequent puncturing or spontaneous rupture of the eardrum, or the insertion of tubes to remove the fluid or inflammation behind the eardrum, can cause hearing damage. The eardrum becomes less flexible due to the many scars and can therefore transmit less sound to the inner ear. At an older age, the hearing can decrease in anyone. In a part of the Turner women this occurs a little earlier. This is probably because the hair cells in the inner ear start working less well. In short, a clear link has been established between Turner syndrome and hearing problems. Of course this does not mean that every Turner woman suffers from this. Fortunately not, I would almost say. But a large number do, including yours truly. My childhood was characterised by many colds and middle ear infections. The connection with Turner syndrome was not yet known at that time. We only found out later. But as a Turner woman with mosaic, I otherwise belong to the group with mild characteristics and I was lucky with that. Even my height is slightly greater than that of the average Turner woman, even without growth hormones but thanks to a tall father. Do you know someone with Turner syndrome, do you or your daughter perhaps have it yourself? Make sure you are well informed. It is possible to live well with Turner syndrome, just like with an auditory limitation, if you are able to deal with it yourself.
Dear readers, some time ago I wrote here that I give workshops as a moderator for an organisation of and for people with a disability or impairment. Among other things, this organisation organises awareness projects for adults and also at schools. In the meantime, I have already had the opportunity to give a number of workshops for adults, who mainly work in the service sector. This is something I particularly enjoy doing.
This time, it was my turn to give a guest lesson to a school class of 9-12 year olds. This guest lesson had actually been planned almost a year ago, but had been postponed due to COVID-19. Yesterday was the day. Since I have no children myself and hardly any experience with children in general, let alone pedagogical experience, I prepared myself thoroughly for this activity. Armed with a plan that included sufficient variety, my own experience, a little theory, a short video film, a number of questionrounds and some objects that I had brought with me to visualise the ear, a hearing impairment and various aids, I nervously set off. Would I manage to get and keep the children’s attention? Would I really be able to convey to them what it is like to have a hearing impairment? And, not the least of my worries, how would the children react to me and my story?
I left on time and arrived at the bus stop from where the school was about 5 minutes walk away, but at first I could not find the school at all. With some help from my contact person at the organisation, I finally managed to get to the classroom just in time. This stress did not make me feel relaxed at all though. With a “good luck then” I started right away and apparently nobody noticed my nerves, except for me. After introducing myself in sign language and without voice, I continued without sign language but with voice and told something about myself. Then came the questions. Lots of questions and especially good questions. The children turned out to be very curious and interested in what I had to say. The story and the variety seemed to go down well and they loved the things I brought, like my vibrating alarm clock, which they were allowed to look at and try out during a break. The guest lesson went by very quickly and fortunately there was no trace of impatience, agitation or disinterest.
Today, I can still feel the relief that everything went well. Nothing compares to having 15-20 pairs of critical and honest children’s eyes on you as a layperson. Relief, especially given my fear of public speaking, which I have struggled with all my life. Blackouts, complete loss of direction, stage fright, simply not daring to speak, all as a result of being bullied throughout my school years. After my school period, I have done much, very much, to overcome this fear. From courses on “Speaking in Public” to deliberately seeking out opportunities to do so. With my heart in my throat, that is. Today, I can safely say that with this guest lecture yesterday, a now almost 35-year slow road to self-conquest has ended and been crowned. That makes me a little proud.
Are you afraid of being open about your hearing impairment, of how those around you might react? Start talking about it. It is always difficult to begin with, but you will see that it will become easier and easier, because no experienced master has ever fallen from the sky.
Dear readers, in my career as a hearing-impaired person, I have experienced a lot and also read about many experiences shared by you as a reader. That situations still shock me means something. Yesterday was such a moment.
In Switzerland, the shops have been open again since 1 March. In order to do as little shopping as possible, I went to several shops at once yesterday, so that I could finish everything in one go. One of my goals was a local jeweller/goldsmith. Here I wanted to inquire about the possibilities and costs for a bracelet repair. Upon entering the shop, I immediately noticed that I had a very difficult time understanding the jeweller. This was not only due to the face mask, but also the dialect and the speed of his talking.
Therefore I asked him politely, if he could please speak more clearly, because I am hard of hearing and it was difficult to understand him this way. The jeweller’s response to this was “Why? I talk the way I talk!” Whereupon I asked him again if he could speak more clearly, because I could hardly understand him through my hearing impairment and also could not read his face through the mask. The jeweller responded with an insulted “Thank you very much …!”. Now of course I could have reacted in different ways:
explaining again that I am hard of hearing and have difficulties to understand unclear and fast speech.
apologise and indicate that I did not ask this to offend him, but …
Make a scene and tell the man that he treated me as a customer in a blunt and uncomprehending manner.
Walk out of the shop without further ado.
However, at that moment, none of these options were on my mind. Partly because I currently have no energy for discussion or conflict. Partly because I am of the opinion that his bluntness and lack of understanding are not my problem and I do not want to make this my problem either. So in the End I completely ignored his reaction, asked my question and understood the answer with great difficulty and asking for repetition. The fact that I left the shop without any result was not due to the communication.
Did I make it difficult for myself with my decision to ignore his response? On the one hand, yes, because I had to make quite an effort to understand the man. On the other hand, no, because a discussion with this man would not have achieved anything and would have cost me even more energy. The only solution without any effort on my part would have been to leave the shop immediately. I could have done this, of course, but that would have put me at a disadvantage, because I would still not have had an answer to my question and this jeweller was the only one who could give me one. For me, an answer at this moment weighed just a little more heavily. This was my own choice. However, this does show that people with a hearing impairment still meet with a lot of incomprehension and need to work hard to spread more information on their impairment. For the time being, this incident is an impulse for me to continue with my blog and other activities. Oh, and did I already mention that I will not be returning to this jeweller?
In disbelief, I stare at my empty hand, which until just now contained a small, button-shaped, silver battery. I, a middle-aged woman and a hearing aid wearer since the age of 18, a veteran of changing hearing aid batteries, have dropped my new battery on the floor of a busy tram. You might think that I’d better get another one. Yes, you would be right, if this had not been the last battery in my handbag and if I was not expected to give a guest lecture at a school.
As a moderator for an organisation of and for people with disabilities, I regularly give workshops for people working in the service sector and give guest lectures at schools as part of an awareness-raising project. There, I talk about my hearing impairment, answer their questions and try to dispel fears and prejudices about hearing impairment among people with good hearing.
Unfortunately, this morning before I left, I forgot to check how many batteries I still had with me, with the result that I now have to get through the day with one batteryless ear. Returning home to get more batteries is not an option: I am almost at my destination. I am a stranger here and cannot think of an audiologist in the neighbourhood, so buying batteries is out of the question too. I feel stupid and powerless and look again at the tram floor, as if the battery suddenly appears and grins “Hi, just kidding, I’m back!” Of course it won´t, it is small and round, rolls in all directions or makes itself invisible. My battery is and stays gone.
My body is rumbling, my blood pressure is probably too high at the moment and this time it is not because of Menopause! I can’t think calmly anymore, questions are spinning in my head. Why does this have to happen to me now? What do I have to do now? How can I give my guest lecture if I can’t understand the children? Won’t I look like a fool in front of the class? Unconcentrated, I glance at the screen with the stops at the front of the tram. I have to get off at the next stop, as I can see just in time. One last time, I take a look at the tramfloor. No, no battery.
When I walk into the classroom of the class to which I’ll be giving my guest lesson, I see that Kees is already setting up a beamer on a stand. “Good morning,” I greet him, a little embarrassed and not cheerful as usual. “Hey, good morning!” He turns around. “What’s wrong with you? Nervous?” asks Kees. Of course I don’t understand him with one ear, but read the question in his kind eyes. Kees is the coordinator of the awareness project I work for and is always present at workshops or guest lectures. He takes good care of his moderators, supports them where he can and always gives good feedback. I like him.
“I just lost my last working battery in the tram, when I wanted to exchange my dead battery. Now I have no batteries and can hardly hear anything in my right ear,” I inform him. “How am I supposed to teach now? I can’t, can I?” Kees must hear the desperation in my voice, because he looks at me reassuringly. I even read a hint of humour in his eyes. “Isn’t this exactly what the pupils expect from someone with a hearing impairment? That this person does not understand them or understands them with difficulty? My advice? Just start teaching as planned. I’ll help you with the questions.”
At the moment I definitely have a disability: without a battery I can hardly hear anything in my right ear! Because I am lucky that I still function reasonably well with my residual hearing and hearing aids, I am not used to this during the day. And the worst thing of all is that now I cannot use my auxiliary equipment, a microphone and receiver, because they are linked to the Bluetooth in my hearing aids. I feel helpless, terribly insecure and would rather run away. But then the first pupils enter the classroom and there is no way back. When the class teacher comes to greet me, I briefly explain my situation to her. She shows understanding. “How can I help?” she asks. “Could you perhaps write all the questions on the schoolboard for me during the question rounds?” My creativity happily resurfaces.
A little more reassured, I begin my lesson. First, I sign voiceless a sentence and the students may guess what my signing meant. Then I introduce myself and talk about my many middle ear infections that led to my first hearing loss, then about the road to my first hearing aid, my further deterioration of hearing, which caused me to be classified from moderately to severely hearing impaired, and about my experiences afterwards. During the first round of questions, Kees tells the teacher that she can stay seated and it is he who writes down the questions for me. Fortunately, this works well! The class is interested and I have a lot of questions to answer. The teacher makes sure that the questions are asked one by one. I slowly feel my confidence returning.
Then suddenly I feel something hit my head. A ball of paper falls at my feet. I look around the class and see some giggling here and there. The teacher is writing on a notepad on the table in front of her and doesn’t notice anything. I decide to ignore the paper ball and continue with my theory section. When I feel something hit my head again, I stop in the middle of a sentence. “There are other ways to get my attention, you know” I joke, but suddenly sweat runs down my back and my hands get wet. The teacher looks up from her notes. I pick up one of the paper balls and show it to her and the class. “Who was that?” Angry, the teacher looks at her students. “Joop, you?” Joop denies in all tones. His gaze drifts to a girl with long dark hair and a narrow rosy face.”Janneke?” Guiltily, Janneke looks down the floor. She says nothing. “Was that you?” the teacher asks Janneke again insistingly. Janneke’s cheeks turn a little redder now. “I want you to apologise right now and then go to the rector. During the break I’ll ask him if you’ve been there.” Icy, the teacher looks at Joanna. Joanna gets up slowly and walks to the door. I can’t hear whether she says sorry, but she leaves the classroom with her head bowed. The others can hear a pin drop now. Then the teacher says loud and clear, looking at me so I can read her lips: “I am ashamed of you all!” I nod at her reassuringly and indicate that I want to continue with the lesson. The rest of the time it remains quiet.
At the end of the lesson, the “question of all questions” is hesitantly asked: “Do you take your hearing aids off during sex or not?” Ha, adolescents! In this age category, 11 to 12 year olds, there is usually one among them who is bold enough to ask this question. The teacher is more shocked than I am: this question doesn’t bother me at all and I start grinning. “What would you do if it starts squeaking in your ear?” I return the question to them. I see the pupils arguing excitedly with each other for a moment and then the questioner takes the floor again. “I would take them off!” Right. No further answer is needed and I wink cheerfully at the questioner, a handsome boy with dark wavy hair, jeans and a dark blue jumper.
Relieved, I gather my things. The teacher thanks me, apologises again for the “paper incident” and tells me that she is going to evaluate the lesson with her students and speak to Joanna again about her behaviour. “I have no idea what is going on with her, yesterday she had a fight with her best friend in class. I suspect that there is more to it, because normally she is a nice, quiet and kind student. This kind of action is not in her nature at all,” she sighs. “It certainly wasn’t you or your story, I know my flock and they were really interested.” Now I don’t know her pupils, but I had the impression that, apart from the “paper incident”, they listened to me actively and the many questions did indicate interest. I accept her apology and wish her well with Janneke.
When he has also finished packing up, Kees draws my attention by waving at me. “Hey, how do you think of it?” he asks. “Better than I had dared hope for, without a battery! What did you think of it?” Kees gives me two thumbs up.
Dear readers, firts of all, I’d like to wish you all a blessed 2021, with good luck and good health. This time, I felt to start this blog differently and write a short story. I hope you enjoy it and I’m curious for your feedback.
The chocolate factory
The girl walks hand in hand with her mum on the street. They walk past the building where cocoa beans are roasted to make chocolate later on. She knows this, because the name on the building is also on the packet of sprinkles at home. She calls the building the “chololade factory”. A pungent, sweet smell tickels her nose. “Mum, can I have an ice cream later?” she asks. “It’s a bit cold for an ice cream now,” mum thinks. “But when we get home you’ll get a candy, okay?” Satisfied she nods and hoops on next to mummy. They enter the old building via a large wide staircase. When they enter, it smells scary. She holds Mummy’s hand firmly. Mummy walks on and stops in a room with just chairs and a few tables. “Go and find a place and I’ll tell them we’re there,” Mum says to her. She walks over the black and white marble tiles to two chairs where no one is sitting. When she sits down, she puts her hand on the empty chair next to her. For mummy. Mummy comes walking up and sits down next to her. “It will be our turn soon,” Mum says reassuringly. She looks around and sees the red, crying faces of other children. She becomes restless. “I’m not ill, am I, Mummy? I’m not in pain.” “No, darling, it’s just a control visit. The doctor only has to look into your ears. Then we’ll go home’, mummy answers softly. Then a voice calls out her name. “That’s us” Mummy says and gets up. “Come on.
When they enter the room, the doctor gives them both a hand. “So, you can sit in the big chair and mummy can sit in the chair to the side,” the doctor says with his deep voice. She knows him from all the other visits. He rolls his chair towards her and puts a device in her ears. “Well, there is fluid behind the eardrum, we have to remove it.” “No way! She doesn’t have any complaints, so I thought everything would be all right,” Mum said, a bit startled. “The fluid is not inflamed now, but to prevent that I’d rather remove it anyway”, the doctor says. “You won’t feel a thing. We’ll give you a buzz and then it will be all over”, the doctor says reassuringly to her. “You can go with the nurse,” says the doctor. “And mummy can wait in the waiting room. The nurse walks up and grabs her by the hand. “Come,” she says. “It will be done in a moment.” She looks frightened at mummy. “Go on, I’ll see you in a minute”, mummy nods encouragingly. Then she goes hand in hand with the nurse to another room. “You can lie down on the table for a moment,” the nurse says. When she is lying down, the nurse notices her bracelet. “What a beautiful bracelet you’re wearing,” the nurse says admiringly. She proudly shows all the charms that dangle from the bracelet and they quickly count how many there are. Then the nurse grabs the cap and places it over her mouth and nose. Panic is overcoming her. “Now be strong,” the nurse urges her. The cap stinks of tar and in panic she tries to push it off her face with her hands. “No, don’t push it away! You’re already a big girl, just count to 10. I’m sure you can do that already”, the nurs insists.
One, two, three, four, five ..…
When she wakes up, she lies on a narrow high bed in a white room. Mum sits on a chair next to her. “Ah, good, you’re awake again,” says mummy relieved. “It’s over now. We’re going home, I’ve already ordered a taxi.” The taxi takes them home and Mummy makes her to go to bed. She is tired and a bit nauseous from the hood. When she opens her eyes again, mummy just enters her room with a cup of tea and biscuits.
The woman walks down the street. She knows the road with her eyes closed. The chocolate factory has gone for a long time. The hospital has been demolished and has been given another, modern location. Yet the pungent, sweet smell of roasted cocoa beans is still there, forever and ever linked to her memories. Just as with the smell of freshly tarred asphalt, she immediately changes back into that girl, who tries to push away the cap on her face with her hands. Mum has long since turned grey. She once asked her how she managed to stay so calm every time in the hospital. Mum then told her that she would have preferred to cry with her, she was so sorry. But she suppressed this, because she was afraid that otherwise she wouldn’t be allowed to go into the doctor’s office with her, like other mothers. When she opens her eyes, she sees mummy coming into her room with a cup of tea and biscuits.
I'm hard of hearing, so what? 