Month: April 2015
In January of 1975, when I was 15, I was back at Sick Kid’s to have my eyes straightened once more by the same surgeon who had operated on me when I was eight. This was minor compared to what I had just been through. I knew the surgeon, I knew the drill and I knew the hospital. I spent two nights in the hospital, one night in a downtown Toronto hotel and then home to Thunder Bay. Two weeks after surgery the stitches were out and I got back to my daily routine. With all the trials of surviving my brain tumour behind me I was confident my life could move forward.
Dad and I began building projects again. Dad introduced me to electronics. I soldered resistors, capacitors and transistors together by following schematic circuit diagrams with my trusty magnifying glass. Dad helped me by guiding my hand as I held the soldering iron until I could do it on my own. My most ambitious project was a radio. When it was assembled it wouldn’t work. After examining the schematic diagram I concluded that I hadn’t followed it properly. All the same I had fun piecing the radio together.
I got a rock tumbler and started polishing small bits of amethyst. Dad helped me glue the polished rocks onto jewelry mounts purchased from a craft store until I could do it competently for myself. I made pendants, bracelets and broaches and gave them away to Mom, her friends and the church bazaar to sell at their craft table.
I believe that challenging my eyes to focus on small rocks and electronic components helped to clear them. My eyes were like muscles that had been weakened by illness and needed strengthening. Once they were strong enough my eyesight became clear again. The dexterity needed to solder electronic components together and to make jewelry improved my co-ordination by making my fingers manipulate small objects.
By the time I finished homeschooling in 1976 the world was much clearer. I could see large objects in detail such as cars and people but reading remained a problem. Lines of 12 point serif text were still hard going – especially a full page of text. My eyes gave out toward the end of one page. They hurt and I had to stop to rest them.
I was probably physically well enough to attend high school by September of 1975. But the outside world had changed dramatically. Maybe the outside world seemed different because I had changed. I had spent two years inside the house. How would people accept me with my facial paralysis, poor balance, and the way I spoke? These questions swirled around in my head and made me anxious about the world out there that was so unfamiliar to me now – the world I wanted to re-enter – the world I yearned for but was fearful of. Home was what I knew and where I felt safe. Like a chick ready to hatch I pecked away at the inside of my shell of fear. Once I got out of my eggshell I liked being out as much as any teenager. The people who knew me were glad to see me back out in the world. With youth on my side and with the support of my family and friends I quickly adapted to the changes in my body, my life and how I had to interact with the world.
At age 15 I began to venture out into the public. People had a hard time understanding me. Their difficulty was due partly to me not moving my lips to pronounce words and not making facial expressions. As well my tongue was a half step slower and my articulation was poor. People would be confused. It sounded like I was talking to them but it didn’t look like it. Dad suggested that I had to animate myself by moving my head or hands while I spoke so people would know it was my voice they heard. It helped.
When I went to a coffee shop or restaurant I learned to point to whatever I wanted on the menu. When the server looked at what I pointed to, and wasn’t looking directly at me, I asked for what I wanted. This worked well. More often than not I was understood because he or she didn’t see me say it.
Another technique I learned to help people understand me was to put my hand in front of my mouth when I spoke as if I was scratching the bridge of my nose. My hand masked my mouth so they couldn’t see my lips. This was effective especially when pronouncing bilabial sounds like “b”, “m” and “p”.
People including me hear with their ears and listen with their eyes. That is we lip read. When I speak, since I don’t move my lips, it doesn’t look like what I am saying. Some people are not fazed at all. Others have difficulty with my “accent” initially and I understand this. Still there are those people who are completely floored. I see a wall go up, a glaze cover their eyes and an aghast expression that says, “I can’t understand this person.” These people I find very frustrating. I’ve been given a pad and pencil more than once to write down what I said. Communication on the phone has always been easier because people can’t see me and must hear and listen with their ears.
One day in May of 1975, I was walking through Grandview Mall, a small shopping mall near where I lived. In passing I met Mrs. D who was a friend of Mom’s. We said hello and I continued on my way. She was speaking to Mom a few days later and said, “Brian gave me the nicest smile.” The fact is that I couldn’t have physically smile at her but I left her with that impression. I took note of that and began to watch how people are left with an impression.
Something else that affected my interactions with people was that I didn’t smile when I laughed. I learned to wait a second. When they weren’t looking straight at me I laughed at what they said. This largely solved the problem. Since they weren’t looking directly at me when I laughed in their minds I smiled.
My whole life has been one of adapting to ways of doing things varied from the “usual” way people do them. Sometimes I had to cajole people into letting me try. More often than not they found I could do it. My methods were at times unorthodox but I got there. I set a ground rule for myself, which was, whatever I start I finish. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I don’t damned well quit.
I found that, as a group, women are the most impressionable people who use a lot of body language. This was most apparent when I was at a party and watched two women have a conversation using only body language. No words were spoken. “Cool,” I thought. From then on I watched how women express themselves using body language. I adapted it to help me convey my thoughts when I speak. It works well and it’s not surprising that women are generally the first to pick up on it. Be advised ladies I’m looking at more than your legs.
This entry was posted in Memoir and tagged adapt, advised, animate, articulationpublic, bilbial, body language, cajole, change, chick, eggshell, express, fearful, ground rule, hatch, homeschooling, impression, impressionable, interaction, ladies, laugh, legs, magnifying glass, peck, quit, Sick Kids, smile, Thunder Bay, tongue, Toronto, unorthodox, venture, women.