I Didn't Catch That

I Didn’t Catch That

            I am pretty much stone cold deaf unless I’m wearing my hearing aids. In the mornings, before I put them in, Tom and I have some pretty funny conversations. Tom says “I’m going to the store. Is there anything you want on my list?” Me “My wrist? No, it’s really all right”. Tom “Did you say you want me to get Coors Lite? I thought you liked Corona.” Tom asks “Did you want coffee? I can make you some.” Me “Oh yes. You need to pick up Tums.”

            “Sorry?” my husband says. That’s short for “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said because I’m too stubborn to go and get hearing aids”. I shouldn’t have said that. Now, we will probably be buried under mountains of mail offering the best and cheapest hearing aids on the market, today, because it seems that there are hundreds or thousands of companies out there promising to restore your hearing loss, thus saving you from living in your own personal silent cave. They range from the $59.95 variety of generic equipment to three or six thousand-dollar top-of-the-line, rechargeable, in-the-ear, over-the-ear devices that you have to guard with your life. God forbid you should leave them by the side of the hotel pool, never to be seen again. I’ve said before that puppies love to chew up hearing aids and I think it must be the squeaking noise they make when you don’t have them stuck in your ear.      Hearing aids, not puppies. So, watch your pups.

            Then there are the cochlear implants that can cost as much as a new car. A small new car. If you are so inclined, you can even still find and use an antique ear horn, with a wrapped cord “tube” and Bakelite “ear nozzle” at one end and a metal or plastic horn at the other. If your hearing was especially bad, you held the horn right up to the speaker’s mouth, if they didn’t object.

            In our house, we have a few rules, such as: The dog gets the last bite. Whoever lets the dog out has to let him in. Whoever uses the last sheet of toilet paper replaces the roll. You don’t leave peanut butter on the spreader. You know, important stuff like that. The one that pertains to hearing goes ”If I can see your backside, I can’t read your lips”. Tom’s version goes “If you can’t see me, I can’t hear you”.

            I’m not sure if certain people have a tendency to become hard-of -hearing or not. My dad had hearing loss from (he said) the loud machinery in the factory he worked in. I think my hearing loss stems from using the industrial sewing and quilting machines. But we both may have been doomed by genetics to begin with. As I understand it, it’s not so much the loudness, but the length of time the loudness is a constant noise. My audiologist may disagree and he may let me know. He does read my column and has copies of my book in his waiting rooms. The funny thing I’ve noticed is that the first four chapters are very dog-eared and ratty-looking, whereas the rest of the book is pretty pristine. Four chapters must be the length of time an appointment takes while the next patient is waiting. You think?

            One of the few funny things about being deaf is this: when people catch on that you are hard of hearing, they immediately talk louder and slower. This doesn’t help if you are trying to read their lips. It’s especially hilarious when they start talking with exaggerated lip twisting and eye-rolling. Usually makes me fall down laughing.

            Having hearing problems can be very frustrating, though. We used to go to concerts and musical plays, until the time my hearing aids started interacting with the theater sound system and they were “singing along”. I couldn’t figure out why people were turning around and giving me disgusted looks. They thought I was humming and squawking, trying to join in and not doing a very pleasing job of it. Then, if you take your ”devices” out, you can’t hear any of the music or stage conversation, so you might as well go home. I now have “musician’s hearing aids” so Beethoven’s Ninth no longer sounds like “beep, bonk, tweedled, pshhhhhh,”

            You probably don’t know this, but when you remove your hearing aids they squeal and chatter at each other. But, of course, since you’re deaf, you don’t hear them. I have to remove them to have my hair washed and cut at the salon. The other stylists start looking quizzically around to see if there are mice or squeaky toys.

            My family and friends have me all figured out, however. Our daughter once told her husband-who, in my defense, is a “soft-talker”- that if he says something to me and I smile and nod, I didn’t hear him. Furthermore, she says “my mom hasn’t heard much of anything you’ve said for years”. Busted! I’ve probably missed out on a lot of good jokes and conversations. But I have to say, I’ve done a lot of smiling and nodding over the years.