Do you live with a hearing impaired spouse? Do you know how they really feel about their disability? This hearing impaired author shares her feelings, frustrations, and experiences concerning the loss and hearing aid fitting.
My friend Karen and I were in the fairway contemplating our shots to the green when a golf course maintenance worker pulled his cart near us. He told Karen what he had done to the ball washer ahead. I was dumbfounded as I listened to him and then to her thank him politely. When he drove on I said, “Why do all the weirdoes seem to find us? I can't believe you didn't tell him off.”
“I thought it was nice of him to warn us,” she replied.
“Nice? If he were nice, he wouldn't have done it in the first place!”
Karen looked puzzled and asked, “What do you think he did to the ball washer?”
Oh, Lord. I knew then that I hadn't heard what I thought I'd heard - again. “That he peed in it,” I answered sheepishly.
“He said he paintedthe washer,” she replied. We laughed about it then and still do, but most of the time not hearing well is anything but humorous.
I'm a hearing impaired person (a HIP as I call us), one of the 38 million hearing impaired baby boomers. We are 46-64 years old, have children and grandchildren, active social lives, fulfilling careers, lots of great toys, and probably the most active lifestyle of any generation to date. Unfortunately, we have a significantly higher degree of hearing loss than any previous generation. The National Center for Health Statistics reports a 26% increase.
There are different kinds of hearing losses. Mine is sensorineural, a condition I most likely inherited from my father. Hearing is when sound vibration enters the ear and travels to the inner ear (cochlea) where hair-like nerve endings (cilia) pass it to the auditory nerve which sends it to the brain for translation. For me, that process breaks down in the cochlea. Many of the speech-produced frequencies don't finish the journey with their buddies. So, I may hear someone's voice, but not understand the words. I'm the one in the movie theater that whispers, “What'd he say?” every couple of minutes. I'm an accomplished lip-reader, but sometimes that doesn't help. Remember the movie Chicken Run? Even animated chickens don't have lips. I've given up movie-going and watching TV unless it's with closed captions. I've become an avid reader by default, reading everything from those small-print warning pamphlets packed with medications to the DO NOT REMOVE tag on my mattress.
How do HIP's feel in our sound rich world? Frustrated, embarrassed, isolated and angry are a few adjectives that come to mind. Frustrated we can't understand the words of family, friends, public speakers, waitresses, telephone callers, or colleagues. We've had our share of embarrassing moments second-guessing what we thought we heard, giving inappropriate responses, or missing the punch line of a joke.
HIP's can feel isolated in a crowded room. We can't understand conversations so we don't join in. We nod our heads and chuckle when others around us do even though we have no idea what was humorous. We gave up saying, “Excuse me? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you.” We know that repeating for us eventually annoys the speaker and listeners, causing them to drift to another part of the room. We hate when people get angry at us when we don't understand them, and yell in our faces thinking excessive volume will help. Or they shout, “Get a hearing aid!”
A 1999 survey by the National Council on the Aging indicated that 6 out of 7 HIP's weren't use hearing aids. Why? First, a HIP must accept that he has a hearing loss. Accepting is different than knowing. I knew I couldn't hear, and those around me certainly knew, but I blamed them for deliberately sabotaging my understanding by mumbling, speaking too softly, not looking at me, or talking to me from another room. Then, acceptance begs for action since hearing loss impacts many aspects associated with the quality of life: communication; mental, emotional, and social function; family relations; physical well-being; independence; and safety.
Price, cosmetics, misinformation about the effectiveness of aids, and lack of trust in the hearing aid dispensing industry are other reasons. Prejudices and misconceptions abound. Examples: people who wear aids are all old, or less intelligent than their hearing counterparts, or only hear what they want to hear; aids don't really work, or are too big and noticeable, or uncomfortable to wear, or too expensive. There are many facts to dispel these misconceptions, but the bottom line is that if a HIP doesn't believe that an aid can help him, he's wasting time and money being fitted.
Many HIP's seek help when they realize that all the adaptations they've made to function in a hearing world aren't successful. But, being tested and fitted for an aid is just the beginning. Besides new hearing discoveries and experiences, there will be follow-up visits, periods of adjustment, readjustment, brain retraining, and frustrations. It must be understood that aids can't restore natural hearing so expectations for them should be realistic. A positive attitude and patience are musts.
I've had three unsuccessful fittings over the last 20 years, but I think technology has finally caught up with my needs. I'm now sporting a completely digital aid with all the latest technological whistles and bells. The cost; my time and money. Hearing what I've been missing all these years; priceless.
Yes, enjoyed the article. I have been there. Hearing loss is VERY frustrating. I finally stopped saying - I didn't hear you. People turn their heads and talk to you - urghhh. Hearing aids are so $$. And you do not hear the same. I used to love singing in church, listing to music and now I find it frustrating. I have felt, sad, isolated, angry, misunderstood. My condition is hereitary. Thanks a lot! lol. I have found I don't socialize as much now with hearing loss.
