She shows me the chart. The exes and ohs representing my hearing on the right and left meander downward off the normal range. The high pitches are going first.
My poor ears.
They’ve served me well through the years despite occasional blockage by earwax,
and despite the raging forest of cicadas in my head that is tinnitus. But I’ve
noticed lately that I have to cup my hand to my ears to hear soft-spoken voices
at meetings. The optimal TV volume is creeping up. And forget trying to
interpret foreign accents; it’s subtitles for me. (I keep wondering about the
damage done early on by the loud music at the kids’ roller rink and that
nighclub where we danced in front of giant speakers.)
I should give
hearing aids a try, reiterates the audiologist, to prevent further loss of word
recognition. She wants me to wear them all day, even though I spend most of the
time alone at the computer or in the garden.
From the ENT
physician I get a conflicting message. Why bother with hearing aids if you’re
not normally in situations where good hearing is essential? I like his view of
this better.
David has kindly
brought brochures from Costco, where I can get hearing aids cheaper. I’m
steeling myself to go there and learn more.
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