Amy Signs: A Mother, Her Daughter, and their Stories

4. Stunned and Numb

26 4 Stunned and Numb Rebecca The next day after Amy’s second hearing test is completed, the graduate student ushers Amy and me into Dr. Zimmer’s office and leaves. I’m thankful she did not close the door to this stifling, cluttered place. Once again I jam myself into the student desk and attempt to hold Amy on my lap. Minutes later Dr. Zimmer strides in and sits behind his desk in a high-backed swivel chair that squeaks when he moves. Like yesterday, he writes notes without speaking or acknowledging me. I wait, none too patiently. Like an unexpected bolt of lightning, he launches into his analysis of Amy’s hearing loss. “Two days of testing indicate your child does not respond to any sounds in the normal hearing range. At 110 decibels, she consistently reacted to white noise on lower frequencies which means . . .” I’m trying to absorb everything he is saying, but I lose my focus when he uses unfamiliar words. I wish he would slow down and let me ask questions. Give me an opportunity to clarify his comments. His voice seems to fade in and out like a poorly tuned radio receiver. Words I don’t understand in this context, threshold, sensorineural, and decibels pierce my foggy mind. He never speaks Amy’s name and relates the information with as much emotion as a TV weatherman reporting the daily temperatures. I do not like the forecast. Amy Signs Main Pgs 1-320.indd 26 6/27/2012 10:37:39 AM Stunned and Numb 27 Doesn’t he realize Amy and I aren’t lab rats?This is my daughter he’s describing ! Does he have any feelings? What does all this mumbo-jumbo mean? The meaning of his words become clearer with his next statement. “Your child is severely to profoundly deaf.” “What exactly does that mean?” He taps his pen on Amy’s file and checks his watch. “She has virtually no hearing. A bilateral loss greater than 90 decibels.” I want to scream “Her name is Amy! She’s not a nameless specimen to be studied under a microscope!” Instead, I ask, “Uh ninety decibels, how much is that? What’s normal?” With obvious impatience he states, “People with normal hearing respond to a whisper, which is spoken at about 10 to 15 decibels. A lawn mower’s volume is 110 decibels or greater. She doesn’t hear anything until the white noise is above 110 decibels, and then she probably perceives that noise as a garbled whisper.” I have many questions and no idea what to ask. Whenever he speaks, another question pops into my overloaded mind. “What caused Amy’s hearing loss?” “From what you’ve told me, her loss appears to be congentital and . . .” Congenital . . . that means she was born deaf. If I have more children, will they be deaf too? “her loss is definitely permanent . . .” It will never get better. “it’s uncorrectable and . . . “Does this mean nothing can help her? “and it may be progressive.” She could become more deaf? How can it get any worse? I thrust my tongue between my dry lips to part them. “Will she ever talk?” “I doubt it, at least not very clearly given the severity of her loss. You could try a hearing aid, but I don’t think it will help her much.” Amy squirms; I pat her back to soothe her. He doesn’t sound very enthusiastic about a hearing aid. If that won’t help, what can we do? “Where will Amy go to school?” For the first time, Dr. Zimmer looks directly at me. His dark eyes focus on me like a laser.“Don’t harbor any hopes she’ll attend school Amy Signs Main Pgs 1-320.indd 27 6/27/2012 10:37:39 AM 28 Amy Signs in Grand Island. That won’t be possible; her loss is too severe. The only place for her is the Nebraska School for the Deaf in Omaha.” Omaha? That’s 150 miles away from our home. I can’t send Amy to a school that far away when she’s only five years old! There must be another option. I hesitantly ask, “I thought Amy might have a hearing loss before I brought her here, but I’m also concerned she might be autistic. Do you think she is?” “No. She’s...