Huh? Me wear a hearing aid?

 

     I’m sick of asking soft-voiced people to repeat what they just said, tired of that sense of confusion I get in a crowded, noisy room and – most important – sad that I have been missing such delicate sounds as the song of a distant woodthrush in summer.

     So, after years of denial and the third audiogram in as many years to show mild to moderate hearing loss (too much Led Zeppelin?), today I took the “virgin” step of asking to test-drive a hearing aid.

     I’m wearing it now – though you’d probably never notice.

     Hearing aids have become so much sleeker since the days of the clunky, buzzing, ear-filling things that my grandmother used to wear.

     These days, you can buy jewelry-toned aids that look like tiny Bluetooths, or devices that are small and sophisticated enough that they fit entirely in your ear canal, so no one even notices them.

     My kind of hearing loss is in the high-frequency range, and with words that start with “s” or “f” or “th” as all of my favorite swear words do, and – like Bill Clinton, who now wears a hearing aid full-time – I have trouble understanding any kind of word in a crowded room without “help.”

     I watched while Michelle, my audiologist, programmed my “loaner” hearing aid on a computer across the room, adjusting volume and configuring it so it will gradually get louder over the course of a month (so as not to be overwhelming right away).

     “Can you hear me well?” she said when she was finished.

     “Why are you yelling?” I responded.

     You know when you get off an airplane and your ears are plugged and then you yawn or swallow and they “pop” and you can hear clearly again? Well, that was almost what it was like. Hearing clearly again after who-knows-how-many years.

     The rustling of paper on her desk. The murmur of people in the waiting room. The hum of an overhead light.

     Why have I resisted all this time?

     Of course, I know exactly why. The same reason that, until recently, I haven’t announced my age. So as not to be considered old. So as not to be dismissed.

     Well, “s,” “f” and “th” that.

     I’m 64. I am buying a hearing aid. I want to hear and participate as much as ever. Maybe more. And I’m proud to say so.

     Agree with my point of view? Well, give me a call. I can hear you now.