The face that confronts me every morning in the mirror is all the proof I thought I ever needed that even rock and roll kids do age. Last week, I got an additional not-especially-subtle reminder, hearing aids.
Too many decades of rock music at MAX VOL at the concert mixing board combined with one too many news stories on US Army tank ranges and small-arms training innovations had reduced me to making 'WHAT?!?' the most frequently used word in my vocabulary.
The hearing loss is/was very slow-I didn't actually think I had a problem until last fall when I first realized I was missing out and missing out badly. Two sets of visits to professionals who specialize in audiometry confirmed my wife's theory that I wasn't so much ignoring her as not hearing her.
I'm not sure I want to know what the consequences for the former would have been; for the latter, it's my still-have-that-new-hearing-aids-smell hearing aids. It's like going from black and white to color. I thought I was joking when I told the technician I expected to be able to hear a mosquito fart but still getting used to them at 80% efficiency, I think I might have been correct.
Thank you, Jose and Heidi at Beltone. I can finally hear myself think.
Now I understand what everyone else is always so upset about.
-bill kenny
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