Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss, Leo's Video Diary, My Sunday Photo, Oliver's Video Diary, Our Cochlear Journey

My Sunday Photo 17:14 Hearing Matters! 

Today marks the end of Deaf Awareness Week. During the last week we have had a number of posts from some great bloggers. We’ve covered everything from Baby Sign through to Facts and Figures from Action on Hearing. 

I would like to thank our guest bloggers who are either themselves featured in the photo above or their children are. 

You can read this weeks posts by clicking the links below: 

We hope you have enjoyed the last week and also hope you have learned something as well. 

OneDad3Girls
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Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss

Our Deaf Journey – Recap. 

 Originally posted in May last year 
Written by Keighley Miles 
May plays host to Deaf Awareness Week (2-8) May and they are celebrating 10 years since the launch of new-born hearing screening (NBHS). 
This is something that is close to our heart because it was during Leo’s New-born hearing screening there was fears raised about his hearing.
I (mum) have decided to write a bit about our families journey so far.. 

As mentioned above Leo failed his NBHS when he was hours old which came as a great shock even tho I am profoundly deaf myself I was always told that it was due to a childhood illness and that it wouldn’t effect any children I had. Our first born Oliver passed with flying colours so I was expecting the same for Leo.
With the NBHS you get the results in a matter of minutes they put some little headphone looking things in their hears and take some readings. When Leo’s came back as a fail we were quickly given facts and figures about how many babies failed the test but then go on to have nothing wrong with their hearing and at the same time given an appointment to return in two weeks time where they would recheck his hearing doing the same test. 
As anyone knows the first few weeks of life with a baby are a blur but getting him home I remember deep down I knew he would fail his second test but tried to keep positive and hope that he was in the high percentage of babies that went on to pass.
We returned to the hospital a few weeks later to be met by the same lady. It soon became apparent that he was going to fail this test too and she finally told us she had to refer him for more testing. 
I would like to say my tears that day were because of my hormones (which didn’t help) but truly I was devastated. Once again we were told that a high percentage of babies go on to be fine and have normal hearing but at this point I knew, it was too much of a coinicidence given my hearing loss. 
We were told an appointment would be sent in the post but because of how upset we was the nurse phoned and got us an appointment for a week later (thank you). 
This week was spend fending off peoples well meaning advice and well wishes which although meant in good nature to try and keep us positive we (i) could have done without having to repeat to people that the chances are Leo was deaf. 
When the appointment came round my mum came with me while Richard looked after Oliver. We were shown to the room and very quickly Leo was hooked up to the computers and the testing started. 

Even now I remember the moment when I knew and the last bit of hope I had was put out. We weren’t that much into the testing and the audiologist left the room to get a pen. Something simple and most people wouldn’t think twice about but I knew because whenever I had my ears tested (100’s of times over the years) I have seen my audiologist dot down on their pads at what level I heard a sound and what sound/ level to recheck. So I knew he had come across a sound that needed rechecking therefore a sound he couldn’t hear at all levels. 
I couldn’t say anything because you have to be quite while they are testing, so you are just sitting in silence watching it all unfold. It was when Leo started stirring, the baby needs to be a sleep for the test that, I could finally speak and ask the dreaded question “so how’s it looking so far?” Of course I knew, he knew I knew so after a weak go of trying to fob me off with “let’s complete the test then we will talk” he told me there was some hearing loss. 
*more tears from me* 
Once the test was completed it was an overload of information about people we would be seeing, appointments we needed to attend then I had to choose which hearing aids Leo was going to have and what colour they were going to be. 
Leo was checked over by the consultant and I was asked loads of questions regarding my own hearing (thank god my mum came) a chart was quickly drawn up showing where Leo’s hearing sat in the “speech bubble” then lastly Leo had his ear moulds taken and we were asked to return in 3 weeks for them to be fitted. The drive home was silence until I step into my house and saw my husband making the tears flow again..
Why the crying.. 
I was and still am often told that “you know Leo will be fine because look at you, you cope well” 
“your lucky you have been thru it, you know what to expect” 
“there are worse things he could have wrong” 
“things have improved since you were young”
All this is true, but having been thru it makes things worse plus I have never been the mum. 
Yes people might think I’m fine now but growing up I never knew I would be “fine” and what even does “fine” mean? I left school without any GCSEs because I fell behind after not having enough support in school. I struggle in loud social situations to communicate with people so tend to avoid them. Doing some simple tasks are long and drawn out because I am unable to hear on the phone. For example I can’t just ring and make a doctors appointment I have to wait for my husband to do it or go down to the doctors. These are a very small sample of things I struggle with, I know they are not life limiting and people go thru worse things but they are not what I would choose for my son if I had the choice.
And yes I have been thru it. I have been thru peoples small mindness and peoples total lack of knowledge towards deafness ( no shouting won’t make me hear you) people telling me not to worry the 3rd time I have not heard what they are saying, people laughing at me mispronouncing something. People forgetting and talking when your not looking, again not something I would choose for my sons and not something I want my son to experience but Leo will experience this but hopefully with mine and his dads support he will cope better, brush off people’s comments better and be “fine” like so many people tell me I am. 
I have read countless post on support pages, on blogs where people have experience the things I don’t want Leo to experience the things that have meant to have improved since I was younger. So the tear was because of this not because he was deaf because the world we live in at the moment has no deaf awareness making life ten times harder then it needs to be.

The first few months was dark. I uttered these words and meant them ” if I knew I would pass my deafness on to my kids I wouldn’t have had kids” but now I look at Leo who on the whole is such a happy, strong willed boy who brings so much laughter to our home along with his brother Oliver And already is stubborn and can stick up for his self and I couldn’t imagine life without them and yes leo will have some tough times but with with us around him and the support from our family and friends we will help him tho them. A year on and Leo has a great network of professionals around him helping him every step of the way ready to step in as soon as he shows any signs that his falling behind with his hearing/speech skills. They might just be doing their jobs but to us they are more like friends and a soundboard where we can say all our worries and fears. Just like my audiologist is to me. They really are a great bunch. His hearing aids spend more time in his mouth then in his ears but I’m told this stage should soon pass I’m hoping it happens sooner rather then later. The appointments are slowly cutting back sometimes we go two/three weeks without a appointment sometimes we have two in a week. I would just like to say here 
Thanks to my mum for going to all my appointments with me up until I was well into my mid 20’s I would like to say without moaning but it was non stop moaning lol but now I understand why she had over 20 odd years of the appointments. I have only had a year of them lol. 

For now Leo is thieving, I don’t want him to feel ashamed about his hearing aids so it’s made me much more open about my CI I don’t think twice about wearing my hair up something I wouldn’t do before Leo was born because it meant you could see my CI And speaking out more against rude people trying to educated people.
The next fight in the battle will be when he starts nursery/school but we will deal with that when it comes on doubt there will be many more tears but we will deal with them.. 

Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss

Hearing Matters from Action on Hearing


Did you know that in 2015 over 11 million people in the U.K. had a hearing loss of some description, that’s equivalent to 1 in 6 of us and that by 2035 that number is expected to rise to 15.6 million or 1 in 5. That number is just staggering when you actually stop to think about it. In fact most people probably know someone with a hearing loss of some description, either being from natural loss due to old age or someone that was born with a hearing loss. 

1 in 6 of the UK population are affected by some form of Hearing Loss 

– Action on Hearing : Hearing Matters


Of the 11 million who have a hearing loss around 900,000 people have severe or profound deafness, at least 24,000 of whom use British Sign Language.


People with hearing loss are less likely to be in work and hearing loss often means people having problems finding a job, fulfilling their potential at work and staying in work. This is due to a number of factors, however a major one is employers attitudes towards hearing loss and this needs to change. 

 In 2013, it is estimated, that the UK economy lost £24.8 billion in potential economic output because too many people with hearing loss are unable to work. 

– International Longevity Centre UK, 2013 – Action on Hearing: Hearing Matters. 


However change does seem to be happening with advances in hearing aid and assistive technologies, together with new technologies like Speech to Text, barriers do seem to be being broken down in regards to communication for people with hearing loss. Also there is rapid progress being made in the understanding of the biological causes of hearing loss, things such as Genetic Testing and MRI Scans have given better understanding. It is believed that by 2020, with proper investment, treatments for Hearing Loss and tinnitus could be available and that cures could be available within a generation. 

For more information on Hearing Loss and Action on Hearings Hearing Matters Study please click here

Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss, Our Cochlear Journey

Our Cochlear Journey Update #3


Following on from the last update where we were waiting for St Thomas’s to have a meeting to decided whether or not to proceed with Leo having Cochlear Implants. 

We received the news from St Thomas that they want to wait for a while to see if Leo’s hearing gets worse or he falls further behind with his speech levels. Although not the news we were hoping for it does sort of make sense but disappointing  none the less. 

As part of the wait and see approach they have asked our local hospital to conduct monthly hearing tests to keep an eye on Leo’s hearing levels. We had our first appointment earlier this week and the news was not great. Leo performed extremely well in his hearing test doing exactly what his Audiologists asked of him, however when they tested his right ear he didn’t respond to sounds we know in the past he has responded to. 

To say we are worried is an understatement. Up to now, although Leo has had a progressive hearing loss it has always been progressive in both ears. As we stand at the moment we are looking at his left ear with a hearing level within the severe loss and his right ear with a hearing level of a profound hearing loss. 

We have follow up appointments already booked for June and July and I will post about them when we have had them. 

Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss, Uncategorized

My Experience of Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss

written by Carly Sygrove of My Hearing Loss Story


Nine months ago I was sitting in a school auditorium, listening to a guest speaker giving a presentation. I am a teacher of Early Years children, and this was part of the school training sessions, a week before the start of the new school year. I lifted my head up from writing some notes, and out of nowhere came a loud screeching sound that filled my head with pressure. The sound grew quieter into a dull ringing, but the pressure continued and I was soon feeling light-headed and disoriented. This is how I lost the hearing in my left ear. There was no accident or known infection or virus that caused it. There was nothing inside my ear blocking the sound. It was not a gradual deterioration. My hearing just disappeared. I had experienced something called sudden sensorineural hearing loss.The treatment that followed was anti-inflammatories and nasal sprays prescribed by my doctor. When these didn’t help, I was referred to a specialist, who told me to go to the hospital where I received a week-long course or intravenous corticosteroids and anti-viral medication. I continued taking the corticosteroids for another four weeks after leaving the hospital. I also received four injections of steroids directly into my ear, each a week apart. I went for an MRI scan which ruled out a tumour as the cause of my hearing loss; which of course I was relieved by. Yet nobody was able to find a cause of the loss of my hearing. Despite the medication and treatments I received, there was no improvement in my condition. I am now severely deaf in my left ear.
The obvious problem with being deaf in one ear is that I can’t hear. I have read about other people’s stories of sudden hearing loss and it seems that everybody’s experiences are unique. Many people lose their hearing in similar ways such as hearing a pop in their ear or feeling a fullness sensation in their head accompanied by pressure. Yet the after-effects can differ a lot. For me, it is not the actual deafness that is the main issue I am dealing with, but rather the other ‘hidden extras’ that come with my condition. Of course, I get frustrated by not being able to hear well. How many times can I ask my boyfriend what he has just said to me? How many times can you ask someone to repeat themselves, before they decide that what they were saying ‘doesn’t matter’? But I am facing more challenging issues than just having unilateral hearing.

With only one hearing ear, I have no idea where sound is coming from. I might hear some music or a noise, but I won’t know which way to look to see what has produced the sound. Sound localization is a skill enabled by having two working ears, not one. I find it difficult to filter out background noise. When I am in a place with sounds such as traffic, people talking or music, and somebody tries to speak to me, I cannot hear them unless they are standing very close to me on my hearing side. Another issue I am having is that I developed a sensitivity to sound. I find loud noises painful and with loud noises, my head fills with pressure. The kitchen is an orchestra of cutting sounds: water running and clinking as it splashes in the metal sink, kitchen pots and pans clanging together, the ping of the microwave and the beeping of the washing machine, and the oven fan that blends the other sounds together; making a mass of pressure in my ears. Another uncomfortable part of my day is when I open the main door to the block of apartments where I live, and am immediately faced with city sounds of traffic and people. Eating crisps, or anything crunchy such as crusty bread, sounds so loud and distorted in my head. This was originally something I found really difficult to cope with, but seems to be getting better with familiarity.

One of the most upsetting things is that I have realized that many of the things I love involve noise. I love music and listening to podcasts on my IPod. Now I no longer can enjoy music how I used to. I have programmed my earphones to filter all the sounds from music into mono so that it ensures I don’t lose the sound of the drums or vocals when using only one headphone. However, this obviously means that all the sound goes into my right ear, which is already dealing with enough right now, and soon becomes uncomfortable with the intensity of the noise.


I regularly feel exhausted. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s my body trying to adapt and cope with feeling off balance and sensitive to my surroundings. Everyday sounds are tiring. With tiredness comes the difficulty of concentrating on individual sounds, which in turn makes the process of hearing conversation difficult. I also have continuous tinnitus in my deaf ear. For me, my tinnitus is rarely just one constant sound, but rather a mixture. Some common sounds for me are: the sounds of swimming with my head underwater, bells, ringing and whooshing – like the sound from those corrugated plastic tubes that children swing in circles to make a noise. During the daytime I am often able to disconnect from my tinnitus, as there are usually other ‘real’ sounds to occupy my hearing. However, when I am lying in bed trying to sleep I hear only my tinnitus. Every day at this moment, I wish for silence.

There have been difficult times where I have lost my confidence or when I’ve experienced moments of sadness and the feeling of loss. I sometimes think it would be easier to have been deaf in one ear all my life, than for it just to happen to me. I know how great music can sound in stereo. I know how easy it can be to talk with people and hear their responses over background noise. I know how it feels to enjoy the loudness of the cinema or to experience the force of live music at a festival bouncing through your body. I also know there are people going through much more difficult and scary things. Yet it is only human nature to feel sad. I have felt angry at my body for letting me down. I lost a part of me that played a big role in enabling me to interact with the world. I am starting to deal with it. I will keep trying every day, to tackle the new challenges that come with my hearing loss. Eventually I want to be able to embrace my hearing loss, and not let it upset me, rather for me to take control. I want to enjoy the hearing that I do have and feel grateful for it.

 

Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss

An Experience of Baby Sign Language 

Written by Hollie of Thrifty Mum


What’s baby sign language?
I was first introduced to baby signing when bumping into an old school friend. She had been taking her 1 year old daughter from being a couple of months old to a local baby signing class. We made time to go for a coffee and that’s when I witness how amazing baby signing is. 
Baby signing is a form of pre-verbal communication. Babies understand so much before they can talk! The proof to me was when my friend’s daughter started signing asking for what she wanted to eat. She was also pointing out things around her including a girl she had seen wearing a Minnie Mouse hat. It was amazing to see!

What are the benefits to baby sign language?
As soon as my son James was a few months old I started the classes too. No longer did I have to ‘guess’ the cry. Was he tired? Hungry? Wanting a cuddle? In fact, we had a very warm few days just as we had started to introduce water to his diet and he was able to tell me when he was too hot and that he needed a drink of water rather than milk! It made me think that these classes could actually be a life saver. When teething began he told me when he was in pain. This meant I knew when to give Calpol and when I didn’t really need to.
One of James’ earlier sign to learn was the one for “all gone”. This is one we did after each meal or snack so he knew he had finished his meal. Funnily he adopted this sign very quickly but also for when he needed to tell me he was full. I found this really useful as learning about portion sizes as a new mum is one of the hardest things to judge.

Why carry on baby sign language when they’re learning to talk?
Learning to sign won’t impede a baby’s language development. If anything it will assist aide their communication. As a parent you will be able to correct them if their speech doesn’t match the sign they’re wanting to do. Signs are always said at the same time. This has meant the signs learnt in baby sign class have been James’ first words, so milk, all gone, bed, shoes and lots of animal noises!
Being able to communicate with James from very early on really helped with bonding. My parents in particular made a huge effort to also learn the signs so they could reinforce what I was teaching on the days they looked after him.
I also love that if James makes any little friends who are deaf or have a hearing impairment then he won’t have the same barriers as other children to communicate with them. I’m hopeful that this encourages his respect for diversity as he grows up.
“Being able to communicate is a fundamentally important part of human development. Baby signing builds upon the natural use of gesture and other nonverbal signals by preverbal infants, greatly enhancing their communication repertoire. Without spoken or sign language, children’s communication is pretty much restricted to the immediate here and now, for example being able to point at what they want. Once they can speak or sign they are able to tell us about their past experiences, future desires, thoughts and feelings.”

– Dr. Gwyneth Doherty-Sneddon,

Senior Lecturer, University of Stirling

If you’re interested in joining a Baby or Toddler signing group, you can find your nearest classes here: Baby Signing Classes

Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss

Living with EVA

Written by Sarah and Laura of Arthurwears

You can follow Arthurwears on the following links TwitterInstagram and Facebook


Sudden hearing loss in a child can come as a huge shock. Not only does it change their perception of the world around them and put them in a potentially frightening and unfamiliar situation – it also changes the lives of those around them, who interact with them, who are used to dealing with and speaking to them in a certain way or a certain tone. It is a steep learning curve, not just for the one who has lost their sense of hearing, but those who now have to learn different ways of communicating.
Last year my younger sister, Laura, called me to tell me that my young Nephew Oliver had suffered sudden hearing loss due to what we later discovered was EVA – Enlarged Vestibular Aqueducts.

 

I am going to hand over to Laura now to tell you their story….

 

The day after my son Oliver’s fourth birthday he fell off the sofa and bumped his head on the floor. A common occurrence for Oliver. He was premature, and therefore delayed in his gross motor skills. It has meant he’s taken a lot of tumbles in his four short years so far, but my heart will still often stop for that brief moment. Usually, he gets up, brushes himself down, occasionally cries, but always carries on as normal. This time was different. This time Oliver got up, brushed himself down, had a little cry, and stopped responding to those in the room. He’d gone deaf.

 

The days after went by in a blur of hospital waiting rooms. The doctors in A and E couldn’t understand how it had happened. Oliver would need a brain scan and audiology tests. The words “brain tumour” were floated around by specialists and my worst nightmares seemed like they were being acted out before my eyes. It was a frustrating time for both myself and Oliver. I’d realised that if I got really close and shouted in his ear he could just about understand me. This was great. It meant he wasn’t profoundly deaf. For Oliver the world became a frightening place very quickly. Familiar practises were suddenly completely different; what was once a familiar and easy bedtime routine of prayers, story and bed, was now just hours of crying, and not just from Oliver. The hospital were slow to arrange tests, and they couldn’t give any answers as to why Oliver had lost most of his hearing. In the meantime, I had to try and keep life as normal as possible for Oliver, but this was so difficult. Not being able to read your son his bedtime story for the first time in his life, because he can’t hear you anymore is difficult to come to terms with… but I put on a brave face, so as not to upset him. It opens up a world of worries that you as a parent had never had to think about before, and as a parent, you’ve already got enough worries going on in your mind as it is!

 

I started to panic about everything:

 

How would he hear his morning alarm to wake up?

How would he hear an alarm in an emergency?

How would I teach him to read?

How do I talk to him when I’m driving?

How do we learn sign language?

Does he need to go to a specialist school?

 

Oliver and I were suddenly thrown into a parallel universe, and had no idea what we were doing.

 

It took almost a week for Oliver to be diagnosed, and that was after being admitted onto the Children’s ward and given a sedated MRI scan. We were taken to a quiet little treatment room and two specialist ENT doctors came to talk to us. They told us Oliver had bi-lateral EVA: Enlarged Vestibular Aqueducts in both ears. In layman’s terms, the pockets in his ears that hold fluid are abnormally large. It meant that when he fell and hit his head the impact sent a shock-wave through the fluid and damaged his hearing permanently. My son was going to be deaf forever. It sounded awful, but at the time I was just so happy he didn’t have a brain tumour. I’m a very practical person.

 

To be given this diagnosis meant I had a starting point. I needed to understand it and then I could learn ways to deal with it and give Oliver the best chances in life. I asked the doctors about the limitations Oliver would face. Due to the potential permanent damage an impact to his head can do, Oliver must refrain from any contact sports (bye bye, boxing); he cannot be exposed to rapid changes in pressure (bye bye, bungee jumping); and he cannot do activities where he jumps around (bye bye, bouncy castle).

Immediately, I realised how difficult it was going to be to try and stop a four year old jumping around. In terms of other information on the condition, the doctors had very little to offer. EVA is rare, so rare that the hospital had no literature on the topic. The ENT doctors admitted that they had actually researched it on the internet before coming to tell us the diagnosis. This did not fill me with confidence.  

 

Upon leaving, I was provided with the National Deaf Children’s Society website and told to research it myself, before returning in a few weeks to see another ENT paediatric consultant.

 

I have to say, I left rather disheartened. I was pleased we had a diagnosis, but I knew next to nothing about the condition. Only after doing my own research could I fully comprehend everything. One thing became crystal clear: the chances are, this was always going to happen. He has the condition, so it was just a matter of time until he lost his hearing. In addition to that, Oliver’s hearing could fluctuate, even if I wrapped him in cotton wool. It was highly likely that he’d lose all his hearing at some point. It meant that Oliver would need regular hearing tests with audiology, and would wear hearing aids daily. These appointments came to take over our lives in the following weeks. It was a very distressing time for both of us.

 

Before Oliver got his hearing aids we struggled to communicate. It was very stressful and noisy, with a lot of shouting, attempts at sign language, and a lot of frustration. As soon as Oliver got fitted for his hearing aids he was like his old self again. He could hear his mummy again; he knew where people were without having to physically see them; he could hear music and sing along; he was so much happier. The daytime routine settled back to almost the same as before. Night time however brought it’s own unexpected battles. Oliver took hours to settle, because the combination of darkness and silence was too much. Unexpectedly, the introduction of his hearing aids only made things worse. Going from being able to hear all day with them in, to complete silence at night, when they’re taken out, is very unsettling to such a young child. We had to quickly adapt our routine to ensure Oliver was feeling safe and secure enough to settle to sleep. Six months later I’m still ironing out the creases, but life is settling back into normality.

 

I’m not going to say it has been an easy six months. As a parent I’ve found it very difficult to find support. Often I’ve felt like I was working alone trying to arrange things for Oliver’s new routines, especially when it’s come to his education. I wasn’t given any information from the hospital about who should be contacted to let them know about Oliver’s new disability; I wasn’t told who I could talk to, to try and get support and advice, as a parent of a deaf child. The NDCS have a great website with lots of information on, and run many information programmes for parents and families of deaf children to attend for free. In July I’m due to attend a weekend programme for parents of newly diagnosed deaf children in Oliver’s age range, and I cannot wait. I feel like I’ll finally get answers to all the questions I still have, plus I’ll get to meet parents in similar situations. I have to say the hardest part about any of this is the social side.

 

Something I didn’t account for is how many parents, no matter how hard I seem to try, don’t want to organise play-dates with their children and Oliver, as he’s limited on the activities he can do. Soft-play just isn’t possible for Oliver any more, and unfortunately, that’s the popular choice for parents. It’s a little disheartening for me, as Oliver is such a lovely, sociable little boy. In all honesty, if you didn’t realise he was wearing hearing aids, you probably wouldn’t realise he was deaf. It’s the beginning of our EVA journey, and we still have a fair way to go, but so far, I think we’re coping well. Oliver especially, he’s so proud of his hearing aids and loves showing them to people, and I’m so proud of him.

 

Laura x

Posted in deaf Awareness Week, Hearing Loss

Learning a New Language!

I have often spoken about Leo’s hearing loss and where we are within his journey. One thing I have never written about though is the fact that since Christmas, we’ve all been learning BSL (British Sign Language) to help Leo communicate his wants and needs. It will also come in handy when he has his operation for Cochlear Implants and after he operation he will spend around four weeks with little to no hearing at all. 

Following a melt down by Leo just before Christmas when he really wanted something but couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried, to communicate with us what he wanted Keighley and I made the decision to start learning and teaching Leo some basis sign language. 

We’ve learnt quite a few words in a relatively short period of time. As is the norm with kids he has picked it up a lot quicker then we have. 

We have been using various resources including a book lent to us by his Play Therapist. The biggest resource we’ve used though is the BSL Website which has images of words with the hand movements shown. We have also used various videos from YouTube as well. 

Between us we have learnt words such as mummy, daddy, please, thank you, eat, drink, dinner, Peppa Pig, Fireman Sam, sorry and many more. 

We’ve found that a combination of using the sign whilst saying the word at the same time has helped Leo to start saying certain words, which is fantastic. 

Keighley and myself are attending a taster session for a course this coming Saturday and we are looking forward to it. I will let you know what we learn. 

To learn more about BSL click here

Best of Worst