A Whole New World

by Lorrie Gorg HGorg92307@aol.com

"It won't get any better." The words were said matter-of-factly, but I heard them with a sinking feeling.

I had been losing my ability to hear clearly for some time, but I always had the secret hope that somewhere, somehow, there could be a magic cure, a miraculous about-face. Now, as I left the otolaryngologist's office, I knew that could never be. They told me my gradual loss of hearing had to do with an inner ear problem, but I suspected that my age had something to do with it, too. After all, I was pushing seventy, not exactly a teenager. Still, other people my age seemed to hear very well.

The report from the audiologist was even more disheartening and I soon began to suffer frequent bouts of depression. I gave up going to plays and movies unless they were extremely loud and full of action. I managed to beg out of our weekly bridge game simply because I was afraid I wouldn't hear the bidding. At church on Sundays I sat in the very front pews, when I went at all. Eventually, I began to avoid social gatherings altogether.

At lunch one day, I said "whole wheat" when the waitress asked what kind of salad dressing I wanted. I thought she had asked about bread. It was very funny to my companions, but I felt humiliated. Hearing aids helped somewhat, but their feedback soon became annoying to others. Besides, they seemed to distort the sounds I still could hear.

It was a lonely, silent world in which I existed and I became embittered and withdrawn. Then, one day my niece, who was tired of my constant whining about "nothing to do," talked to me about computers.

"No way!" I told her. "I'm too old to learn all that technical stuff. I can barely manage to punch in a telephone number."

She wouldn't give up and sent me articles and advertisements through the mail. One was from a young college student who offered to "come to your home, set up your computer and get you started." This sounded good to me. At least if I did make a fool of myself, it would only be before an audience of one.

Following my niece's advice, I sent away for a computer. Then I called Paula, the young student who advertised her services, and set up an appointment. I didn't even open the many boxes that had been delivered. Frankly, I was afraid to. When Paula came to my apartment, we spent two hours and then some while she assembled everything and then went on to show me the basic manipulations of a PC, as she called it.

Paula's tutelage was expensive for a senior on a limited budget, but I have never regretted spending one dime for her help. I didn't know then about the Learning Centers and computer classes offered by SeniorNet, but Paula and I developed a friendship that has weathered many a frantic call for help from me to her. I was truly sorry when she graduated from college and took a job in a different city.

From the beginning, my computer has been a joy. The ability to use email alone would have been sufficient compensation for my isolation, but when I started "surfing the Net," a whole new vista opened up to me. I was purposely looking for sites that were geared to seniors, but it was only by accident that I stumbled on to SeniorNet. At first, I was amazed at the diverse and extremely interesting index. After "lurking" for a while in some of the discussions on the RoundTables, I decided to join in. Some of the conversations were so interesting I wanted to jump right in and start comparing viewpoints and I was immediately welcomed. Many specific places have become my favorites. I visit them regularly and I can understand every word they are saying!

One thing that did not change with my loss of hearing was my love of books. The Books & Literature section became a haven, a place where I began to feel right at home. I go daily to comment on what everyone else is reading, get the latest reviews and just discuss things. Some days I am amazed when I see how quickly time has passed while I'm sitting at my computer. I've made friends with people all over the world whom I've never met and probably never will.

No one on SeniorNet cares that I can't hear very well. No one cares what I look like. Some of my best moments online have been on cold mornings while I sit in a flannel robe and furry slippers, clicking happily away.

I had always had a sneaking little desire to write things and that little desire became a reality when I discovered a group of published and would be writers in the Writers Exchange (WREX) discussion who critique each other's writing attempts. I've made that group one of my favorites also. I've talked to others about the Great Depression, commiserated about World War II with people of my generation, discussed the problems facing seniors today, listened to others talk about where they came from. The list of what is available on this wonderful site is endless. It was also reassuring to find that so many other hard-of-hearing people felt about their hearing loss as I did.

No longer do I sit alone in my apartment, brooding in a silent world about things I cannot change. I don't have time for that. In fact, through my computer, I've learned of many ways that hearing-impaired people and other readers with disabilities can be helped. I can say in all honesty that learning to use a computer has turned my life around. Every day I thank Heaven for that!