Archives for August 2004

This originally appeared in The Tactile Mind Weekly in Trudy’s ON HAND column.

I was a bit nervous. For the first half of my life, I always had my mother, who can speak very well, interpret for me at the doctor’s office. When I became old enough, I wrote for myself and made Mom stay in the waiting room. Even when the Americans with Disabilities Act went into effect, I didn’t feel quite comfortable having an interpreter in the room–I wanted my privacy.

I also didn’t like to ask for an interpreter–the doctor was so good and so sweet that I felt as if asking for an interpreter would be adding undue burden to his office financially. I was afraid he’d suddenly find me to be a loathsome and costly patient, and even refuse to see me. So I always stuck to writing back and forth, even if it took forever.

Over a year ago, I moved to Faribault, a deaf-friendly town. When I called the doctor’s office, they asked me right off the bat if I wanted an interpreter. I hesitated for a few seconds, and then typed, “Yes. That’d be terrific, thanks.” I went to the appointment, wondering if I knew the interpreter and if I’d be bothered by her presence.

The interpreter was indeed someone I knew well, but I didn’t feel embarrassed. For the first time in my life, I was told what my blood pressure numbers were, and what they represented. The nurse was very chatty, asking me how I liked Faribault and making small talk–something she would have never done had we used paper and pen.

Doc came in. The communication was flawless. He joked with me and I joked back. I got to know what Doc’s personality was–something I had never been able to do with other doctors. He explained throughout the examination about why I had to take deep breaths as he listened to my lungs and heart, why my neck hurt when he pressed on it, and so on.

I now realize just how stupid I was all these years for not wanting an interpreter. I also cringe when I think about how much information I missed in the past, especially when I was sick.

Today, for minor appointments (i.e. getting prescriptions refilled), I don’t bother asking for an interpreter. But never again will I go without an interpreter for more serious visits or hospital stays. I’d be an idiot to do that.

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This will be my last column for The Tactile Mind Weekly. Thank you, dear readers, for allowing me to rant for the past 63 columns.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

This originally appeared in The Tactile Mind Weekly in Trudy’s ON HAND column.

I know it’s only August, but I already know what I want for Christmas.

A DVD boxed set of every DEAF MOSAIC show ever made.

I used to get up every Sunday morning to watch DEAF MOSAIC. It was such an inspiring source of identity, history and news. I still remember the opening credits of one season, where there was an American running in the Deaflympics. It was only when I was at Gallaudet that I discovered the American was one of my friends, Eric Roberts. I still remember the awe I felt when I realized I actually knew people from the show.

I also remember when one of the episodes featured my classmate. One of the shots showed him in a class, with me sitting next to him. “You’re on television!” my family excitedly signed.

And who could forget the opening of each show? Mary Lou Novitsky (M-L) and Gil Eastman (G-on-chin) were the unapologetically cheerful hosts that I felt as if I knew personally. (Note: I did meet them in person when I was 14. I got their autographs then scurried away, starry-eyed.)
Even today, my peers and I mimic the way Gil signed “WORLD” because it was, and is, such a classic introduction. As trivial as these incidents may have been, they show just how much of an impact DEAF MOSAIC had upon my peers and me.

Whenever I had free time as a Gallaudet student, I often went to the lower level of the library to check out tapes of DEAF MOSAIC. I’ve probably seen every episode by now. The years that the show was on television were, to me, years of unparalleled awakening within the Deaf community.

I think that if the shows were put on DVD and sold as boxed sets, they’d sell like crazy. Some of them are actually available for purchase as videotapes today, but I want the entire collection.

By the way, if Christmas is too long from now, my birthday’s in late November.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.