In a Word, It's Hard...of Hearing

Many years ago at the urgings of my sons and husband I went for my first hearing exam. The wheels of suggestion tend to move very slowly for me and I had waited until I'd lost most of the soft sounds and had to ask people to repeat what they'd said more often. Movies were particularly difficult and I was unable to understand some of the dialogue. Not wanting to be rude I'd tug on Mr.G's shirt sleeve whispering, "what did they just say?" Being kind and sympathetic he'd answer me, "humm, mmmm, tttppp." So, more frustration, I couldn't understand his whispered response. I succumbed to the obvious and made the appointment for the exam.

During that first exam my fantasy was the Doctor would lean back and reply enthusiastically, "oh these are just plugged eustacian tubes," or "what a nasty infection you have in there" adding, " and we'll have this cleared up in no time!" Instead after the tests the Doc smiled kindly and said, "you should consider a hearing aid."

I remember that I didn't cry as I headed for a whole milk with whipped cream mocha, but I did feel particularly sorry for myself. "Poor me. I am far and away too young to be plagued with this tragedy, after all, I am a psychotherapist and rely on my listening for a living." I was only 50 years old not like my Mother who in her 70's finally got a hearing aid after years of shouting, "stop mumbling, I can't hear you."

In the adjustments stage of "I'm not ready for a hearing aid" I did all kinds of tricks: I pulled my chair ever closer to the soft spoken, honed my attention to the speaker in crowds and taught myself to read lips. To lighten up the situation I'd say to the soft spoken women, "if you don't speak up I'll be in your lap in a minute, " which usually rectified that problem pronto. Yet, it could be frustrating getting only part of a conversation in a phone call and worse, sometimes I'd have the most ridiculous guesses as to what someone was saying. Here's an example, an electrician was working at our house and I thought he said, "could I borrow your vacuum?" I glowed thinking of him humming while he vacuumed my house. "Sure", I said, "the vacuum's in the closet."  "No, the BATHROOM." Embarrassing. This misunderstanding, I am sorry to say, was not that unusual. This struggling to hear accurately went on for more time than I care to admit.  Finally I had a dream: I couldn't hear what someone was saying and in that dream a friend of mine said, "Susan, get a hearing aid." Not even subtle and I awoke chuckling.

Since I had waited so long, I had to be retested. My loss had progressed from mild to moderate, no surprise there. The young audiologist for this first go round of hearing aids put putty in my ears for the digital hearing aids that, at the time were the most technically advanced and the most expensive. President Clinton was wearing them and braver than me, was touting them to one and all. One of their charms is that you can fool people into thinking that you can hear perfectly because they are completely hidden in the ear canal. She recommended that I have one in each ear and gave me a 30 day trial period. She told me "scads of people are wearing these hearing aids, you probably haven't noticed." 

When my new hearing aids arrived, I  put them in and waltzed out of the office with great optimism and immediately, against the advice of the young audiologist, went to a noisey grocery store.  She had wanted me to stay in "gentle environments" to gradually acclimate to the sounds. Well, I don't do anything gradually, I believe in plunging in so this first excursion was more than educational. I could hear all of the irritating noises amplified: the paper bags rustling, the blaring shopper announcements and worse, my knees continually crinkling as I walked. I kept thinking, "do I need this?"

I kept mistakenly calling them "my ear plugs," because that's how it felt to me, ear plugs with a microphone. I became hyperconscious of my own voice, very annoying. But I continuted to be hopeful and adventuresome and wore the plugs in my office, to the movies, at home listening to music, on the phone and finally into an antique store. It was in one of the antique stores that I decided that perhaps wearing only one of the hearing aids would be less annoying, so I put one of those very small devices in the breast pocket of my vest. As I was climbing back into my car after poking around I realized to my horror that the hearing aid was not in my pocket. I must have dropped it, but where? In true financial panic I flew into the first one of the three antique stores and said, "I'm missing my hearing aid and it looks like this," as I whipped out the plug from my ear, "can any of you help me find it?" Imagine, if you will, the horror of combing those stuffed-to-the-gills dusty old shops for an object no bigger than a pistachio nut. The man behind the counter marshaled everyone in the store to help look. Everyone was so kind and solicitous and no, it wasn't to be found in the first, then the second store. I walked into the third shop and there lying on the floor, miraculously untouched by human feet, was that tiny hearing aid. I couldn't wait to get rid of those expensive devices.

Mind you, I had only used them for a month but I never did, with that model anyway, have the "ah-ha, so this is why I got a hearing aid" experience. Honestly, I was hoping that the digital hearing aids would be like wearing glasses for the first time when I was 13. "Will you look at that," I said to my sister in awe, "you can see individual leaves on the trees!" Indeed, it was then explained to me that the hearing aids can significantly but only modestly improve my hearing loss.

So I coped again and told the soft of speech "I have a hearing loss and would you mind speaking a bit louder?" Some people were uncomfortable knowing that I had this loss and I truly feared that I would lose all of my clients. That did not happen, I remained busy at work.

I tried another round and got one of the obvious, more old fashioned and less expensive models, the kind that you can see,  the ones that fits in the outer cavity of the ear and has a little wheel for volume control. Mom had one and liked it, so, I thought, why not try it. I did and it was OK for several years, a definite improvement over the ear plugs. I liked that I was able to tune out the fussy babies, the irritating overheard conversations and the loud music.

I was at a very raucous Christmas party a couple of years ago, wearing my single outer hearing aid and having trouble talking to one of my acquaintences with all of the background noise. He had just gotten hearing aids for the first time and was so pleased about his new hearing aids that he all but sang the Halleleujah chorus. Seems the hearing aids in the four years since I had acquired my outer number, had advanced again and it was an over the ear digital model. He actually wanted me to try it on at the party. I deferred but the enthusiasm was not wasted on me. I made an appointment, got tested and walked out that day with two new hearing aids. They are highly specifically programed to my hearing loss, have multiple settings for various situations and are a great deal better than the previous two models that I tried. So, I'm also pleased, not thrilled mind you, but satisfied. I still cannot hear everything that I would like to and sadly one of my ears hears things in a distorted fashion.

People have all kinds of losses in their lives. Loved ones sicken and die, their pets grow old and fail, they lose their agilities and their abilities, their sight becomes impaired and so does their health  and they inevitably have to face their own death. This loss of hearing is a minor loss and by no means a tragedy. I don't love my hearing aids but I appreciate them each day and am so grateful that I am fortunate enough to have them.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2011 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.