Kay recently had her visit with the audiologist, and I’ll be honest—it didn’t go as smoothly as I had hoped. Over the years, Kay has had quite a few hearing tests, and she still doesn’t like anything going into or even near her ears. I don’t blame her, but it’s tough trying to explain that it’s only for a moment and that we’re doing it to help her. She doesn’t fully understand that part just yet.
We tried everything, from talking gently to offering little bribes (I’m not above bribery if it helps get something important done, hah), but nothing seemed to work this time. The audiologist paused, looked at me, and asked kindly, “Sensory overload?” That moment really stood out to me. Instead of getting frustrated, as some professionals might, she recognized that Kay was struggling and shifted her approach.
I explained that Kay was recently diagnosed with autism, and that diagnosis has given us so many answers to moments like these. What used to feel confusing or discouraging now makes sense. I shared that I’ve been doing everything I can to learn more and find strategies that help Kay, especially when it comes to situations that can be overwhelming for her.
We decided to move forward with an open room test in the sound booth while Kay wore her BAHA (bone-anchored hearing aid) headband. That approach worked a little better. While this type of test doesn’t give the audiologist the most detailed results, it still provides enough information to keep us moving in the right direction.
I’m grateful that when Kay was around a year old, her audiologist performed a sedated hearing test. That gave us a full picture of her hearing and helped us understand exactly what she needed. Knowing that foundation helps guide every appointment now.
The next goal is working on getting Kay to wear her BAHA more consistently. I used to put it on her every morning before school, but her teacher noticed she often wanted to take it off before it was even time to use it. So now, I pack it in her bag and her teacher puts it on during quieter parts of the day, giving her “hearing breaks” when things get louder.
I also try to have Kay wear it during her weekly therapies, especially speech, but she usually takes it off before the session starts. It’s definitely a work in progress, and I know it’ll take time. My hope is that, with patience and consistency, Kay will eventually recognize how much her BAHA helps her and begin to want to wear it on her own.
Each visit, each small step, is part of her journey—and ours too.