Do you want to laugh? Keep reading.
Sometimes, you just need some fitful sleep, but let me tell you—there’s nothing like waking up to two police officers standing over you, debating whether or not you’re alive, to really shake up your REM cycle.
This is a true story that happened not too long ago. It all started because I missed a few morning Zoom appointments. Now, if you know me, you know this is practically a sign of the apocalypse. I’m usually the kind of person who shows up five minutes early to everything, even a Zoom meeting. But on this fateful morning, I was in a very deep, luxurious sleep—so deep that I missed not only my alarms but also the increasingly frantic texts of my assistant, people I was supposed to meet, and eventually my uncle, who came by to check on me when I wasn’t answering his texts. When knocking on the door or ringing my Deaf-friendly doorbell didn’t work, he did what any loving family member would do: he called the police for a welfare check. On the phone, and in person when they arrived, he told the officers that I was Deaf. In fact, he told them several times, “HE IS DEAF!”
Before I go any further, let me just say how grateful I am that people care enough to make sure I’m okay. It’s heartwarming to know you’re loved, even if it’s expressed in the form of law enforcement crawling through your window.
Yes, they crawled through my window. That’s how committed they were to ensuring my safety. My uncle waited outside with an officer while two other officers made their way into my house, probably expecting to find the worst. Instead, they found me. Asleep. Oblivious. Drooling, maybe? Let’s not dwell on that.
Apparently, my sleep was so convincing that the officers stood over me, yelling “Keith! Keith!” (while my Uncle was yelling from outside, “HE IS DEAF!” And then I was told they started talking among themselves, like the Three Stooges, “I think he’s dead.” Why didn’t they check my pulse? Tapped my shoulder? Grabbed my leg? This would have woken me up right away. They also wouldn’t let my uncle try to wake me up with a shake of the leg either because I may have been dead. I’m told this was followed by a dramatic pause and telling my uncle that they’d pray to comfort him, which, unfortunately, I did not get to experience firsthand because I was still snoozing away, quietly.
Then I woke up.
Imagine this: you’re in the middle of a beautiful dream—maybe you’re winning the lottery or finally figuring out how to fold a fitted sheet—and suddenly, you’re jolted awake by two uniformed strangers staring at you like you’re a ghost that’s just been summoned, and then they started talking to you. Naturally, I tried to explain the situation.
“I’m deaf,” I said, as I pointed to my ears.
They kept talking to me. I repeated, “I’m deaf.”
More talking. At this point, I’m wondering if my words are coming out in slow motion or if I’m stuck in some sort of communication Twilight Zone. I could’ve pulled out my phone to type something or I could have told them I’d put my hearing aids in, but honestly, I was still half-asleep and processing the surreal fact that my morning had turned into an unintentional episode of Cops.
I put my hearing aids in and then everyone calmed down – we were finally on the same page. I explained that I was fine, just really, really tired, and they left, probably relieved that they didn’t have to write a different kind of report that day. My uncle came in after and gave me a look that said, “You scared the life out of me.” I apologized, and we both laughed about it later.
So, what’s the takeaway from all of this? Well, first, if you’re going to sleep through a welfare check, try not to make it look so convincing. Second, police officers—if someone says they’re deaf, listen and take their word. It’s probably a good idea to stop talking “at them” and start looking for alternative ways to communicate – a notepad, a phone, or even some charades would’ve been great. Third, check someone’s pulse before saying, “I think they’re dead.” If someone is Deaf, no matter how asleep or awake they are, they won’t respond to their name. Poke, shake, tap, flick lights – all a good alternative to saying their name. I’d rather you rattle me awake then say my name and think I’m dead when I don’t answer. And finally, let’s all take a moment to appreciate the people in our lives who care enough to go to such lengths to make sure we’re okay. Even if it means crawling through a window and waking us up from the nap of the century.
Moral of the story: sleep is important, but so is answering your phone. You never know when your beauty sleep might turn into a full-blown wellness drama.
And just like that, I can add “getting a welfare check for sleeping too soundly” to my ever-growing list of Deaf misunderstandings with the law—right between “doing my CP walk and convincing a cop I wasn’t drunk” and “airport staff bringing me a wheelchair because I said I was Deaf.”
