Musings of a Village Idiot (III)

Work

I've led a chequered work life, my first real job was as an apprentice doing motor-control wiring. It was the best job I ever had, the factory I worked at was a family affair, I had Aunts, Uncles, cousins and a parent there, so my diminishing hearing was accepted and made allowance for, in as much as they spoke to my workmates instead of me, to 'make sure' he understands, if he doesn't, you do it for him.. ! but it took its toll on me socially, I was always 'AT the Rim' of everything, albeit I was accepted because I could hear just enough for it not to be too obvious (And some inspired guesswork helped !).

At age 21, I decided the world was my oyster, and wanted to try something different. Never one to do things by half I handed in my notice and left Wales for London. I Lasted 14 days. I was totally vulnerable via my hearing loss, and it showed rather alarmingly. The world suddenly became a very threatening place.

I put up in a hotel, quite naively, it cost an arm and a leg per night near Knightsbridge ! The fact I was woken up by the porter who had to let himself in because I hadn't heard him knocking the door scared me at the time, anyone could have walked in really, I wouldn't have known. I Left after one night and walked London's streets, I met a Hippie who offered me a blanket and roof in a squat with his girlfriend. I was so stupid I didn't realise they were on drugs most of the time, in the welsh valley's I had only really read about it, not seen much of it ! 2 days in I woke up to find my stuff gone, and worse the girlfriend was in a bad way with the boyfriend gone.

I thought she was asleep, she was in fact dead via an OD, lying in a pool of her own vomit, I had of course slept through the whole thing.

I went for the police/ambulance, they were quite good about helping me, and told me my best bet was to go back to Wales, or I'd be in serious trouble. I took the advice, I still owe some policeman a few pounds the fare. After I got home, I had a breakdown of sorts, and was completely unable to look for work, there are no photos of me at that time, I burnt them all, I will never look as bad again as I did in those..... Depression at that time was non-extant as a medical issue, I saw my GP he put "Workshy" on my note for the DHSS, written in Latin so I had no idea why the powers to be were so abrupt with me... the Doctor had not even included the fact my hearing was virtually nil.

The DHSS, then laid into me with a vengeance, I got no dole money for many months, my parents had to keep me.

I was sent to the job centre every day, I had to walk 5 miles there, 5 miles back every day, I'd hear next to nothing, told to come back the next, I had 6 months of that, before some counter clerk realised I was facing problems ! I was then referred to the DRO (Disability Rehabilitation Officer), I couldn't hear him either, he kept looking for my wheelchair.... Every day I'd go there, every day he would write "Any luck ?", I'd say, not a lot (!), and he would write "Chin up, perhaps tomorrow will be better.." It didn't happen really.

In the end I turned up and said that's it, I'm not coming here any more there is no real point is there ? I had been sent to 26 interviews and been rejected every time, because I either sat in a waiting room unable to hear my name called ! failed to find the factory because I couldn't hear the directions, or went in to an interview talking complete bollox really, and answering questions not asked, unsurprisingly I didn't get the job.

An Employer eventually 'helped' me out by phoning the Job centre and saying "Don't send these deaf idiots to me, I'm not a social service dept..", then, the DRO actually told me off for it, because his boss gave him a telling off, I was the bottom end of the chain so to speak ! They then put my name forward for a 'Re-Hab' centre, which was 35 miles away in Cardiff. When I got there, I was the only one there with hearing loss, and the workshy tag still held, so any compassion or thought about the issues I faced were not going to get a sympathetic 'hearing'. The Re-Hab times, deserve a blog of it's own, that will be next..