Archive for hearing aids

The Beethoven Effect

Is anyone still interested in reading this blog? Due to major changes in both my professional and personal life, I’ve seriously neglected it, and I apologize for my laxness. Now that I’ve adjusted to my situation somewhat, I feel like writing again.

Let me begin the “rebirth” of my blog by telling how I stumbled upon a very effective method of upgrading from a semi-private hospital room to a private room, at no additional cost. If you are hard of hearing, you’ve got the necessary tools to do the same!

Sixteen years ago, I welcomed Super Hearing Boy into the world. He was delivered via C-section, and powerful drugs dulled the pain inherent with this major abdominal surgery. I vaguely remember being wheeled into a semi-private hospital room, and later that day another mom who had also recently given birth was assigned to my room. Family members eager to see my precious newborn visited while I drifted in and out of consciousness.

That night, shortly after I slipped into a drug-induced sleep, I felt someone grab my wrist.

Me (Momentarily forgetting where I was): “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Nurse: “Mmdghskdlfk”

Me (fumbling for the light switch, hearing aids, and eyeglasses and speaking in a loud voice): “LET ME TURN ON THE LIGHT AND GET MY GLASSES AND HEARING AIDS.”

(A minute later)

Nurse: I’m just taking your pulse.”

(Repeat scenario a few hours later)

When night turned into day, I woke up in a private room. Bewildered, I pressed the call button, and a nurse soon appeared.

Me: “Why have I been moved into this room? Is my baby alright?”

Nurse: “Your baby is fine.”

Me: “Why am I in this room?”

Nurse: “You woke your roommate every time the nurse checked your vitals last night, so we decided to give you a private room.”

Me: “Oh.”

And there you have it - solid evidence that there ARE benefits to having a hearing loss!

New Audiogram

Last week my audiologist adjusted the settings on my hearing aids. I had reached the point where I didn’t want to wear them at work because it was too painful to hear. Environmental sounds were so magnified that I almost jumped out of my skin, yet speech remained barely audible. In the Library, the “clunk” of books, CD cases, and DVD cases landing on book carts and tabletops drowned out all speech. A coworker’s lingering cough EXPLODED in my ears all day for weeks. Crying babies made me rip my hearing aids out! Yes, I looked nutty reacting to sounds that normal hearing people swore were soft!

I was experiencing the wonder known as “recruitment,” explained here by the very knowledgeable Neil Bauman, Ph.D. Recruitment goes hand in hand with a sensorineural hearing loss. The more severe the hearing loss, the worse the recruitment. I’ve been aware of my recruitment for a couple of decades, but the new level of discomfort was unbearable. My wise audiologist decided to test my hearing before adjusting my aids, and discovered that one ear has changed SIGNIFICANTLY; I can no longer hear any high frequencies in my left ear.

If you wear hearing aids and sounds are becoming painful, please make an appointment to see your audiologist right away.

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Ow!

This past Friday night I was relaxing at home, surfing the ‘Net, and reading blogs. Super Hearing Boy (SHB) was washing dishes as payment for his cell phone subscription. Suddenly, he runs into my room with a look of terror on his face and shouts:

SHB: MMMMmmm! MMM MMMdMMMMSLSKDJDK!!

Me: What?

SHB: Look! (points)

Blood was pouring from his right hand.

Me: What happened???!!!!!

SHB: I was washing a glass and it broke!

This was no superficial cut; he needed medical attention at once. I grab a washcloth to wrap his hand in, grab my purse, and in 60 seconds we were out the door. Luckily, the nearest hospital was only a few miles away. I drive like a mad woman and in ten minutes we were in the Emergency Room.

We make a beeline for the nurse’s station.

Me: My son cut his hand! Where do we go?

Nurse: Mmmhdkfjkdj kdjfkdjfk jdkfjdkf kkdfjkd

Me: (Realizing I don’t have my hearing aids in) I’m hard of hearing! Where do we go?

Nurse: (Points)

We go to the room on the right and go to the nurse’s station there. I fumble in my purse and find the box where I keep my hearing aids. Quickly, I place them in my ears and the formerly silent hospital comes to life, blasting my ears with the sound of babies crying, people talking, and the tv blaring.

The triage nurse briefly assesses SHB’s injury and tells us to sit down. A few minutes later, SHB is called and the nurse wraps gauze around his hand and throws away the blood-soaked washcloth. On four separate occasions, SHB is called and I miss his name each time! Because SHB hears so well, I depend on his ears and didn’t ask the hospital staff to walk out to the patient waiting area to get my attention. Three and a half hours later, we leave with SHB’s wound closed with six sutures (stitches).

The next day, after I’ve calmed down, I think about the previous night. I understand hospitals have procedures to follow with each patient, but surely there’s a better way than calling patients’ names in a cacophonous environment. A numbered system that visually alerts patients would be much better. The Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) in my city has an efficient visual and auditory method of alerting customers that’s very hoh/deaf friendly. Upon walking into the DMV, customers take a number and sit down. After a short wait, the customer’s number is spoken and flashed on the multiple screens surrounding the waiting area. Arrows point the way to the appropriate Customer Service Representative.

Does anyone know of an ER with deaf/hoh friendly ways of alerting patients?

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My nose KNOWS

I worked until 9:15 last night and arrived home in the dark, unable to see the yard. When I opened my car door, the pungent smell of freshly cut grass enveloped me. In the ten steps from my car to the house, I knew the entire yard had been cut; a stark contrast to Super Hearing Boy’s (SHB’s) usual habit of cutting a portion of the large yard to keep from overexerting himself. But the potency of the grass smell was magnified tenfold this time. I was astounded when SHB confirmed the yard work was totally done!

If the CIA needs human sniffers, they should consider hiring people from the hard of hearing/deaf community. Several hoh/deaf people have written to confide to me they also possess this super powerful sense of smell. Surely we can profit from this phenomenon!

However, there is a downside to this freakish ability. In public places (think about where I work, people), my nose picks up on the personal habits of people around me. From 6 feet away, I can learn A LOT about someone. But I REALLY DON’T WANT TO KNOW who:

  • Forgot to put on deodorant
  • Needs a breath mint
  • Smokes
  • Needs to take a shower
  • Tossed back a few beers for breakfast

Unlike my hearing aids, there’s no “off” button for my nose!

Hearing Aids as Art?

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I used paint.NET to modify this picture of my hearing aids using the “pencil sketch” effect.

Never Put Them in Your Lap!

I’ve blogged twice about the destruction and near destruction of my hearing aids, and have to admit, it is somewhat embarrassing to tell the whole world about these calamities. The only thing I can say in my defense is that accidents DO happen, and in the past 31 years, I’ve only had 3 mishaps with my hearing aids. That’s once a decade - not a bad record. The most recent disaster was almost 4 years ago:

Not wanting to cook one evening after work, I drive my kids to Subway for dinner with my hearing aids sitting in my lap. When we arrive at the sandwich shop, I wait in the car while my kids place their orders. I pop the trunk open and step out to refill my water bottle. After the kids get back in the car with their sandwiches, we head over to the mall. I’m not in the mood for any drama due to my deafness, so I decide to put my hearing aids on ………only I can’t find them.

I feel sick as I realize what happened. Frantic with worry, I plead with my daughter to call information for Subway‘s number, then call Subway while I drive like a maniac, praying my hearing aids are intact.

Girly Girl on the phone: My mom dropped her hearing aids in the parking lot. Please send someone outside to pick them up before they get run over.

Subway employee: Click.

Girly Girl: Mom, he hung up on me!

Me: Call the numbskulls again! And hurry!

The second time Girly Girl called, she was placed on hold, and a minute later told there are no hearing aids near the store.

As I pull into the parking lot, I spot the oh-so-familiar beige on the pavement next to a car. Slamming my car into park, I open the door and almost trip over my feet rushing toward my “ears.” Scooping up my treasures quickly, I run back to my car, chanting, “Please let them work, please let them work.”

Alas, it was not to be. Only one hearing aid was unscathed. The other aid displayed its inner workings through gaping cracks in its formerly smooth exterior. Even the ear mold was split in half. Tears of anguish filled my eyes. I’m ashamed to write what happened next, but I was not in my right mind as I stormed into the packed Subway and began shouting at the employees, holding my hearing aids up for all the world to see.

Me: (Glaring at the poor sandwich artists) MY HEARING AIDS WERE IN THE PARKING LOT! THEY WERE IN FULL VIEW! WHY WOULDN’T YOU PICK THEM UP WHEN WE CALLED? WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK THEM UP???????? WOULD IT HAVE HURT YOU TO PICK THEM UP????

Subway employee: Mgh mgh kdom dofkd mgh mgh.

Me: What?

Subway employee: Mgh mgh kdom dofkd mgh mgh.

Me: (At the top of my lungs with my most theatrical voice) GUESS WHAT?  I   C A N ’ T    H E A R    Y O U !!!!!

……..And the crazy deaf lady went home to search for the warranty paperwork for her hearing aids.  Fortunately, the warranty covered Acts of Stupidity.  But The Stupid One had to pay a $425 deductible!

How to Annoy Normal Hearing People

I push the shopping cart through the aisles in the grocery store, and notice a woman giving me a quizzical glance. Maybe she recognizes me from the Local Government Building, I think to myself, and continue my trek to the cookie aisle, lured by Mrs. Field’s finest semi-sweet chocolate chip cookies. As I giddily reach my destination, several people turn to look at me, with the same quizzical expression on their faces. Aha - now I get it! My cell phone must be playing the Macarena. I check it, and sure enough, Super Hearing Boy is calling his Mama!

I’m truly perplexed by my cell phone. It’s hearing aid compatible, and I use it daily with my T-switch or Bluetooth it with my SmartLink and hearing aids. It is set to the loudest factory-installed ringtone, yet I can’t hear it ring most of the time. This past week, I have been fruitlessly trying to create a suitable ringtone using my piano keyboard, Anvil Studio, and MyxerTones. I’ve read blogs and forum posts devoted to the LG VX8300 promising ringtones without a hitch, and have been able to successfully create several. I’ve converted MIDI files to wav, MIDI to MP3s, and wav to MP3s. Unfortunately, only Super Hearing Boy can hear my creations.

As I previously posted, I don’t wear my hearing aids when I’m not actively listening to someone. As I write this, I see that I missed a call about an hour ago - and my phone was two feet from my ears! Does ANYONE know of a loud ringtone suitable for hard of hearing people? Please don’t suggest that I set it to vibrate and attach it to my waistband - that’s not gonna happen!

Thanks!

Cindy (Deaf person with a cell phone)

It CAN’T happen to you…….

This will make you KISS your hearing aids!

The Cool Teens

Since my last couple of posts were about my teenagers, I thought I’d write about my teen years with a hearing loss.

When I was 13, I took my hearing aids off, and decided I wasn’t going to wear them anymore. A typical teenager, I wanted to be just like my friends. My logic at that age consisted of, “None of my friends (wear hearing aids, have speech therapy, etc.), so why should I?” The only problem with my brilliant reasoning? None of my friends had a hearing loss.

I remember sitting in the back of the classroom with all the cool kids, which of course, made me cool, too. The cool kids didn’t lipread, so, say it with me: I didn’t lipread, either. My teachers could have been speaking Swahili for all I knew. Expend energy to understand the world around me? Nah, that would be Uncool. Everything had to be laidback and easy. The only time I had a clue about the topic was when the teacher wrote on the board.

My coolness was rewarded with really cool grades: Ds and Fs. The word, “DOOFUS” described me and my report card:

D - below average

O - outstanding (in music)

O - outstanding (in music)

F - fail

U - unsatisfactory (my conduct in class)

S - satisfactory (my conduct in music)

When I saw my cool son’s latest report card, I sat down, took a deep breath, and reminded myself that I was once a DOOFUS, too.

If you grew up wearing hearing aids, did you refuse to wear them as a teen?

The Evangelist

After coworkers or new friends get to know me and see how open I am about my hearing loss, I start hearing confessions. Family secrets about stubborn “Aunt Daisy‘s” deafness and her refusal to wear her hearing aids are commonplace (See Steve’s article, “The Best Place for Hearing Aids is in Ears” for a similar woeful tale). Because I wear my hearing aids, I am granted authority, power, and wisdom to reach the otherwise unreachable masses.

On a weekly basis, I hear stories of people who won’t get their hearing tested, such as blundering “Uncle Bob,” with his inappropriate responses to questions, and “Grandpa Joe,” who blasts the volume on the tv, complaining everyone mumbles. The oft repeated plea of these weary souls is, “If only you could speak to him/her!”. Upon utterance of these desperate words, I go forth, hearing aids fully powered, to promote The Gospel of Hearing Aids to their loved ones.

Lilly, however, had a different reason for asking me to go into the missionary field to reach her grandmother:

“She won’t get her hearing tested because she’s afraid to get hearing aids.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, she’s afraid hearing aids will make her look old.”

I looked at Lilly’s grandmother, noticing her blue-tinted white hair, dowager’s hump, and walker. Uncontrollable laughter hit both of us at the same time. After we wiped away our tears, I said, “Okay, let me understand this. In her mind, she doesn’t look old right now?”

“That’s right - she’s a very youthful 83.”

“Somehow, nearly invisible hearing aids will ruin her youthfulness and transform her into an ‘elderly’ person?”

Vanity. All is vanity.

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