When I look in the mirror, I sometimes think I'm getting old, but then I have two generations behind me so that helps puts things into perspective. I am a grandmother now, but at least my nine-year-old grandson Jude calls me Glamma and not Granny.
When I got into the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, a doctor told me to give up the course as I'd be totally deaf within a couple of years. But I refused to give in.
When I was young I used to smother myself with olive oil mixed with a dash of vinegar to keep the flies away and lay in the sunshine for hours on end. But we knew no better then. Now we know how stupid that was.
One of the reasons I wanted to teach deaf children was because it made me very sad that they spoke so clumsily and that they moved with less grace that I knew was possible of deaf people.
I have to concentrate more intently when people speak. I always have to position myself on their right side so that I can hear out of my left ear. I sometimes get a crick in my neck from listening. But I don't there's too much else.
I took some classes in sign language when I was in my early teens because I was told that I would be completely deaf very early. But I never really wanted to learn.
My worst holiday was in Athens when I was a young drama student at Rada in 1965. I ran out of money. I had my things stolen and I wasn't able to speak a word of the language.
