My mother was almost deaf, in fact, according to the charts, she was legally deaf. Sometimes it was very difficult to communicate with her. I’m afraid to say that many times she was ignored. She often felt alienated because she missed so much of the conversation. Her lack of hearing really hit me when the grandkids were small. I told her one day, “I’m so sorry that you can’t hear that sweet little voice.” How sad to not hear those little sounds we all take for granted – a chirping bird, a child’s soft song, or a little voice saying, “I love you.”
She and Daddy had their own way to talk to one another. They made up their own method of sign language. Someone came up with the idea for us to take a sign language class. Daddy, Mama, my daughter, husband, and I signed up. We went to the Technical School and took the course for American Sign Language.
After we completed the course, we tried to put the language into action. I will admit that I didn’t use it as much as I should have, so most of that has left me now. Mama and Daddy used it, but Daddy’s sign language was much like his writing – sloppy. They managed though Daddy added his own quirky signs for various things.
Fifteen years ago, Mama and Daddy were in a serious car accident, one that claimed the life of my mother. Mama was flown to a hospital that had a trauma unit. After she was situated, I went in to visit her. They had her arms strapped down but she could move her hands. I noticed her making some kind of motion with her hands. Immediately I called for my daughter to come in. She was faster at reading sign than me. Mama was saying, “I hurt.” She signed letters and words so we were able to at least have some idea of how to help her. The nurse came in and I explained the reason she was moving her arms was not because she was a bad patient, but because it was her only way to communicate. I also told the nurse that she was hard of hearing. If they wanted her cooperation, they should all speak loudly, clearly, and in front of her face where she could watch their mouths move. Then, she would be compliant. I asked if there was anyone available on the nursing staff who knew sign language. There was none. A friend of the family who knew sign language fluently came to our aid and was able to help translate messages. We felt that at least gave Mama a bit of comfort during those last moments.
After her death, Daddy insisted I write letters to some of the universities with well know nursing programs, one being the University of Georgia. In the letters, I relayed to them to situation Mama and the family faced, suggesting that basic sign language be part of their curriculum. It would be easy enough to have a chart of basic signs posted in the rooms so patients could voice their needs. Of all sections of the hospitals, the trauma units and ICUs have patients that cannot speak because of tubes and other obstructions. If you’ve ever been in a foreign country where you are the only one speaking your language, it can be a bit frightening. What if you were deaf and there was no one to communicate with you, especially if you had an urgent need? I never received a response from any of my letters, but hopefully, someone took it to heart and maybe, just somewhere, there is a nurse who learned the language of sign.