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Deafblind individuals have different methods of communicating depending on their education and experience; there isn't just one way or one tactile language. In this article she tells of her personal communication frustrations and proposes new methods to make conversations faster and more convenient.

Many people think I'm crazy. You'll understand why if I tell you that sometimes when I'm travelling I want to hug complete strangers. Truly, I do, the urge to fling my arms around them is almost irresistible.

It is very rare to find a stranger who knows how to communicate with me. When a person sitting next to me on a train used my Braille alphabet card to say hello recently, he got greeted like a long lost friend. As for when I was waiting for assistance to cross a road and someone came over and fingerspelt to me, I wanted to shout with joy and embrace her.

Wishing to do this with someone just because they've said "hi" is just a little extreme, isn't it?

Sometimes the most frustrating moments are when people just can't grasp how to communicate with me, no matter how well I explain myself. Also it's when people don't see why they need to communicate anything to me at all; grabbing and dragging me to where they assume I want to go. Other times it is the speed that lets the whole show down.

It's a bit over the top to feel dejected, without hope and sometimes tearful, just because a person doesn't speak with me, wouldn't you say? I should get a grip! Most of my experiences are with London commuters, after all, and they don't talk to anyone!

Some of my real low moments are when people speak to my friends or assistants rather than to me. It's worse than the 'Does he take sugar' cliche because I can remain oblivious to entire conversations.

I was recently at a hotel reception desk with an interpreter, for instance, trying to report a problem with my room. I began to explain the situation but the interpreter told me to wait and shortly afterwards guided me away. When I asked why, I was told that she had provided them with all the information they needed, and they would now be sorting the problem out.

I had stood there throughout this conversation, knowing nothing of what was happening.

When there are people that know how to speak to me, the issue then is usually speed. Deafblind Manual, the main method of communicating in the English language, is a form of fingerspelling and is a quarter the speed of regular speech which can cause difficulties, especially in my professional life.

Meetings can be particularly bad or unfruitful when it comes to decent two-way communication. I was invited to a session about emergency planning recently, to represent the views of deafblind people. Public emergencies have been a live issue after many DB people suffered confusion and found themselves stranded in parts of London they didn't know after being kicked off the tube system on the day of the 7/7 bombings in 2005.

I had plenty of points to make, and wanted to know what other people had to say; they employed an electronic notetaker to interpret for me. The notetaker types a summary of what is said on a laptop, and I read it back, in realtime, on my Braille display; my Braille reading abilities are such that this is about half the speed of normal speech.

The discussions were too fast for the notetaker to keep up with. So, I sat through the meeting being given only general points, none of the detail. I was unable to join in because of the speed. In the only opportunity I did get to speak, I asked a question which had already been answered because the answer had not been relayed to me. I failed to make any of my points and came away having learnt very little.

No wonder I often sit in meetings feeling confused, anxious that I'm missing critical information, worried about not joining in, and feeling intolerable frustration and despair.

You can hold meetings between the crew of the International Space Station and people on Earth by using video conferencing. All I want to do is communicate with people in the same room!

My hearing colleagues slow down, take extra communication breaks and provide an interpreter in meetings; they're doing everything they should. So feeling such despair could be seen as a bit ungrateful but I do crave a better faster system and often put forward ideas.

Deafblind people communicate in lots of different ways depending on the individual, their history and circumstances. I can speak, I can write and read Braille, I can receive Deafblind Manual. I've previously suggested that I learn Hands-on Signing. That's where deafblind people put their hands over the hands of someone who is signing using standard British Sign Language (BSL). But everyone collapses in peels of laughter: "You? Learn something that is based on very visual concepts? Pull the other one!" They might have a point there - as someone who's been blind since childhood, I may find it hard because BSL is a language of symbols and gestures that I have no experience of, not words. But maybe they could let me try?

There are other alternatives. I once had the great privilege of working with a Fingerbraille interpreter who was visiting the UK from Japan. She tapped my fingers as though they were the keys of a braillewriter, using all the abbreviations used in Braille. Because I can speak, a blind person in the same room didn't realise I was using a communication facilitator, the conversation had flowed so smoothly. I cried for joy afterwards.

When I've suggested Fingerbraille, people ridicule me. Though widely used in Japan, it's not common in the UK - possibly because it looks a little odd. But Japanese deafblind people can communicate much faster, almost as fast as speech. My colleagues think Fingerbraille is an absurd way to communicate.

In creative mood, I once suggested a completely new (and apparently crazy) method of tactile communication. Verbatim speech-to-text reporters use different chorded keystrokes for each speech sound - I suggested that I could learn this code and feel their hands as they work. This, I thought, would be a fast, convenient and effective way to communicate. As someone who has previously been hearing and can appreciate what speech sounds like, I may well benefit from this.

Most people laughed and made fun of me for weeks. Others were on the verge of locking me up. So my methods of communication have not moved forward.

I doubt the inventor of the mobile phone was dismissed in the same way. Isn't the difference between a genius and a lunatic only a matter of whether or not other people accept their innovative ideas?

Fingerspelling: a generic term for systems which use the fingers or hands to spell words out letter by letter. Fingerspelling may be visual, such as the British Sign Language (BSL) alphabet, or tactile, such as the Deafblind Manual alphabet.

Deafblind Manual: a tactile form of fingerspelling. Each letter of the alphabet has a unique hands sign which is made against the deafblind person's hand. A free A5 size card showing the Deafblind Manual alphabet is available from Sense, email laura.cook@sense.org.uk.

Fingerbraille: a system of tactile communication. The speaker or interpreter taps the deafblind person's fingertips as if they were the keys of a Perkins brailler. It is most commonly used in Japan.

Electronic Notetaker: an Electronic Notetaker is a communication support professional who types a prÈcis of the spoken communication onto a laptop keyboard. This summary can then be read on a screen, Braille display or saved and printed out.

Speech-to-Text Reporter: a Speech-to-Text Reporter uses a special phonetic keyboard to write a verbatim transcript of spoken communication.

British Sign Language (BSL): a sign language with it's own unique grammar popularly associated with deaf people only, but used by many deafblind people too.

Hands-on Signing: (or Tactile BSL). A deafblind person puts their hands over the hands of the signer to feel the signs.