Half a Mind to ..

Life after brain injury – one small victory at a time.

Tag: strategy

  • Making Audio Quiet Enough (Strategy 030)

    Making Audio Quiet Enough (Strategy 030)

    I’ve blogged about my sensory overload before (Ch002). Finding a restful place, or getting off to sleep at night, with a bit of background sound — a podcast, some music, or a familiar voice reading a book — can be very helpful, especially when thoughts won’t stop churning. The trouble is, most gadgets seem to assume we all want things louder, not quieter. For me, even the lowest possible setting on my phone or phone and speaker combination is too much. After a bit of head-scratching, I finally found a simple, old-fashioned fix that works beautifully.

    Read more: Making Audio Quiet Enough (Strategy 030)

    If sleep isn’t happening soon enough, I try drifting off to the sound of something gentle — but neither my phone alone, nor my phone and Bluetooth speaker combination could produce a sufficiently quiet sound. Both have volume controls that only work in steps from one to ten, and even with both turned right down, the sound was still too loud in the stillness of the night. When I searched online for a fix, all the advice seemed to be about boosting the volume, not softening it.

    Eventually, I came up with my own solution. It’s not rocket science, but when I was struggling to find my way in the new normal, it isn’t something I was able to think about early on.

    I started using a little gadget called an attenuator — a small box that sits between the audio source (in my case, my phone via a lightning-to-audio adapter) and a speaker with a 3.5mm headphone jack (not so common these days!).

    The joy of the attenuator is its analogue dial. It lets me make smooth, gradual adjustments, right down to a whisper. With a bit of practice, I learned to roll my thumb gently over the dial to fine-tune the sound to the perfect level — just audible, but soft enough not to wake me again later.

    I did try a Bluetooth version, using a relay with the attenuator in between, but it was all a bit too fiddly — extra cables, another thing to charge, and more potential for something not to connect. In the end, the simple wired setup won hands down: quiet, reliable, and delightfully uncomplicated.

    It’s a small tweak, but it’s made bedtime so much smoother. Sometimes, the old-fashioned wired approach still does the job best.

    My kit is the cubilux attennuator https://amzn.eu/d/hCjidW1 and the Anker speaker … https://amzn.eu/d/e3AiXCZ with a 3.5mm male to male audio cable, and a long 3.5mm male-female audio extension cable, plus the iPhone lightning to 3.5mm adapter.

  • Agree Workplace Adjustments (Strategy 002)

    Agree Workplace Adjustments (Strategy 002)


    When I went back to work after my illness, one of the most important things that happened was the process around “reasonable adjustments.” Occupational health got involved and set up a proper conversation between me and my manager. Together, we worked out goals that matched what I was realistically able to do with my new limitations. I’m not an expert in the legal details, but I do know that employers have some responsibility here — and being part of a large company definitely helped. We ended up with a living “reasonable adjustments” document, which we reviewed every month. The deal was simple: if I kept to the adjusted goals and did my part, then in the annual performance appraisals I’d automatically get a rating that kept me safe from being penalised or dismissed for underperformance. It wasn’t perfect, but it gave me security and a fair framework to keep contributing at work.



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  • Lending Central Vision (Strategy:001)

    Lending Central Vision (Strategy:001)


    One of the quirks of living with hemianopia is that I’ve had to adopt little tricks to stop myself colliding with people. A favourite strategy is what I call my Lend-central vision. Instead of walking like everyone else, I tilt my head slightly to the left whilst my body continues to walk straight ahead. That way, part of my central vision picks up what most people would normally see with their left side peripheral vision; the bit that I’m missing .

    It means I’m steering myself forward using what’s left of my central vision, plus my right peripheral vision. It also means that I’m avoiding colliding with people using a partly out of focus scene. Odd as it sounds, it works — I hardly ever bump into anyone these days. If I’m carrying a symbol cane or a white stick, that helps too: not just for safety, but because it saves people wondering why on earth I’m walking around with my head cocked at an angle.