A Mare’s Tale
Hearing loss and good communication at the horse hospital
I’ve avoided mentioning that Sue has a horse in case anyone thinks we have money to spare. Far from it, we have a horse so there is nothing to spare.
We’re lucky, we’re able to keep her (the horse, not Sue) with friends and keep costs to a minimum. But I would (and have done) give all I have to make sure Sue and horse are together. Truth is that the horse (no name, third party data protection<grin>) has given Sue more support, encouragement and reasons not to give in when things were at their worst than I ever could.
The mare is also a Hearing Horse – when Sue is able to ride she watches the horse’s ears for indications of what’s going on behind or over the hedges. Cyclists can be a problem as they suddenly appear from behind and shoot past without slowing, but that’s a problem for many horses and riders. I’ve also watched Sue lead the mare whilst struggling to stand up, the mare senses Sue’s problems and leans into her to provide physical support. I’m not romanticising, it’s true. Just as the mare stood stock whilst leaning sideways when she felt Sue slipping off during a drop attack. May sound like a Disney film, but I wouldn’t kid you.
Past two weeks we’ve been visiting the horse at Liphook Equestrian Hospital (LEH) where she was having an op on both hind fetlocks. I won’t bore you with details, but it was serious and without insurance I’d have had to sell my bike – which I would have done. So, thanks South Essex Insurance Brokers (if you have an uninsured pet, I’d recommend getting cover).
I doubt LEH have had much experience with deaf owners and I’m sure they haven’t had deaf communication training, but they don’t need it anyway. We were delighted and impressed at how everyone naturally made sure they were looking at Sue when they spoke and checked to ensure that Sue’d understood all the medical stuff.
When David Lloyd took us into a darken office to view X-rays he immediately told Sue the view would suffer but he’d switch the lights on so she could see his face. Very impressive for a surgeon who routinely looks at X-rays in the gloom. Another impressive act on the hospital’s part was that they phoned me in the mornings with updates and texted Sue as the same time. Thanks to LEH the horse is recovering at home and on the mend, and thanks to LEH Sue was kept up to date on her op and progress.
When we got to the hospital in the afternoons the staff all greeted Sue with a large wave and a smile – helped her no end. But Sue did have to tell me to stop finger spelling whilst talking with a bemused nurse – habit.
Hate to say this, but there are some in the NHS (including those who deal with hearing impairment) who could learn from the Liphook Equestrian Hospital. Good deaf communication isn’t difficult. And for anyone who sees the cost of a horse as foolish, well I could never hope to create the look of utter delight on Sue’s face when the mare came home – and that’s priceless (and we didn’t use a credit card, so that’s not an advert.)