Bittersweet delight as deaf woman now hears but loses sight

Jo Milne's elation at hearing sound for the first time is ­proving to be bittersweet - as she is ­swapping her world of silence for a world of darkness

Thrilled Jo Milne was on the brink of a life-changing moment and her body ­tingled with excitement.

A nurse switched on her ear implants and 39-year-old Jo heard for the first time.

She said the first words – “Can you hear me” – moved through her like an ­exploding firework and compared going from silence to sound to “jumping into an ice-cold bath on a sunny day.”

Jo’s overwhelming experience has been shared with nearly three million viewers on YouTube.

In the moving clip, filmed by her mum Ann, Jo sobs tears of joy and holds her head in her hands as she hears the nurse recite the days of the week followed by months of the year.

She tries to trace the words in black ink on the page with her finger but her tears are soaking the paper.

But her elation is ­proving to be bittersweet as she is ­swapping her world of silence for a world of darkness.

Jo, now 40, has an incurable rare ­condition called Usher ­syndrome meaning she was born profoundly deaf and with ­deteriorating sight.

Ten years ago she was registered blind when tests showed she had lost all of her peripheral vision.

It was as if she viewed the world through a tunnel of darkness. The light at the end has been enough to let her ­communicate as she can lip read and judge facial expressions.

She told the Sunday People: “My sight meant I wasn’t ­completely isolated. Being able to see made me feel less deaf as my eyes ­became my ears. I was an expert lip reader.”

“My eyesight is getting worse and I know this time next year I might not be able to see at all.

“I just have to enjoy that I can see and hear and make the most of every day.”

Jo was fitted with cochlear ­implants at Birmingham’s Queen Elizabeth Hospital last year and her brief internet video was ­included in Goggle’s ­montage of 2014’s ­inspirational clips.

Jo has also ­written about her remarkable life in a new book, Breaking The Silence.

She said: “I was so grateful and full of joy that I could finally hear ­after all those years. It was the most ­emotional day of my life. I never thought it’d ­happen.

Newcastle-born Jo said: “I’ve seen the seagulls on the Tyne ­almost every day, I’ve never heard them before. Now I know how loud they are.”

“I never knew what a child’s voice sounded like. It’s so ­innocent and pure, I broke down in tears.

"Even a year on, I’m hearing sounds for the first time and ­feeling like the luckiest ­person alive. It’s as if I have a whole new life.”

Music has ­really moved her. She heard the lilt of Danny Boy and the National Anthem sung by fans of Gateshead FC on match day.

Her friends have made her a ­playlist of 40 songs, one for each year of her life. Her favourites so far are John Lennon’s Imagine, because of the lyrics, and Laura by Bat For Lashes, the first track she heard.

At home, charity ­worker Jo had no idea life could be so noisy – that fridges hummed, light switches clicked and that ­microwaves beeped.

But she is treasuring every day. Ten years ago, to prepare for a ­future of ­darkness, she went through family ­photos, ­looking hard at faces so she would not ­forget them.

And Jo, who has two hearing sisters Julie and Alana, and her mother would often visit her favourite sight, the Angel of the North. She was just 18 months old when a neighbour told her mum she thought she might be deaf.

The revelation shook the Gateshead family as they ­realised their daughter didn’t ­respond to her name, her dad’s clapping or the baby talk and soothing lullabies.

But from the day she was ­diagnosed her ­parents made no special concessions.

“They knew I needed to be treated the same as the ­others. I was told off when I was naughty and praised when I was good. I went to the same school as my sisters and had friends.

"I went to parties and, when I was older, had boyfriends. Things were harder for me and I was low at times.

“Other children could be cruel. They picked on me and called me names or made animal noises behind my back as they knew I couldn’t hear them.

“There was a group of lads who would sit behind me on the bus and spit on my back. I would have to go home and clean it off.

“I’ve known since I was a child I’d ­gradually lose my ­eyesight. I remember Mum taking me to the doctors when I was only nine and ­telling them that I struggled to see things at floor ­level.

"In hindsight that was my peripheral ­vision already failing me but the ­doctors didn’t know enough about my ­condition to do anything about it.”

Jo was 16 when doctors told her she would end up blind.

“It terrified me but I tried not to obsess over it. It was enough to deal with being deaf and as I could get by with partial sight I tried to ignore it until it happened.

“But in recent years the light at the end of my tunnel has been getting smaller. I know I could completely lose my sight and the thought really scares me. But I have no choice but to do what I’ve always done and make the best of what I have. That’s worked out pretty well for me so far.”

Jo reckons she gets more out of life than some fully sighted and hearing people as she appreciates her senses so much more.

“When I see a ­stunning view I stare at it for ages, ­trying to take it all in as I never know whether it might be the last time I see it.

“When I go to the coast and look at a sea view or when the flowers are in bloom, those are the simple things that I take time over.

“Other people might move on but I take those extra few ­minutes to take a mental picture so if I end up with no sight and I got back to those places I will be able to call the images to mind.

 “I can match ­peoples’ voices to their faces and learn the sounds of ­different things. If I go blind I’ll still be able to tell what’s going on. At one point the future looked ­really bleak but now I feel strong and positive.”

Jo studied nursing at university but even that proved ­humilating at times.

“A lecturer stood behind me and shouted ‘nurse, nurse!’, knowing that I couldn’t hear him just to prove the point that if I was on a ward and a patient was in distress I couldn’t do the job.

“But for every humiliating ­experience, I got stronger and told myself I would be better.”

Determined Jo achieved things that many hearing and sighted ­people don’t – from ­passing her driving test to ­making a ­successful career in the charity ­sector.

Last year she was contacted by the Olive Osmond Hearing Fund in the US, started by the mother of The Osmonds group, to be an ambassador for Hearing Fund UK.

Jo, her aunt Edna and Ann went to the US where they met singer Merrill Osmond. Jo and Edna also enjoyed a thrilling flight over the Grand Canyon.

Jo, who now works full-time for Hearing Fund UK, said: “I didn’t realise the whole reason The Osmonds formed was to earn money for the family to buy hearing aids for one of their brothers who was deaf.”

But her one lasting ­regret, she said, is she never had ­children of her own.

“I think I’ve missed my ­opportunity now. But I wish I’d known more about my condition and ­realised I could have had a family and been a good mum.”

“I live on my own now but I’ve been in relationships since I was 17 and have had three ­marriage proposals.

“I ­never took that extra step, something was holding me back. I thought if I had a family my kids would have Usher which seemed unfair.

“I thought deafblind people would struggle as parents. Now I see I might have needed a bit extra help but I’d have done it. It’s important to me to tell other young deafblind people and Usher ­children they can do anything.

“People could call it a ­cruel trick that I’ve gained one sense and still may lose another but I still feel very lucky. When I turn off my ­hearing aids and I return to a world of silence I’m ­reminded of what I have been given.

“I have to cherish every moment and that’s what I’d tell anyone to do, ­regardless of what their battles in life may be.”