“What did you say?”
Unfortunately, over the past few months, the above sentence became my initial question to people in numerous conversations. Even worse, my PILL (partner in love & life) Rana continuously grew frustrated having to repeat herself over lunch or when we were out (and we’re always out) for dinner.
“It’s time to have your hearing tested” my Ladylove semi-demanded. I didn’t think it was necessary; I just believed that everyone spoke in soft, low voices.
Now while yours truly is far from vain, the idea of potentially requiring hearing aids was unthinkable. Only “old people” needed these devices and while I qualify as a septuagenarian, in my mind, I’m still that virile 18-year-old immature youth.
Eventually consulting with my primary physician (“You know” I told the doctor who was young enough to be my son, “I never had any medical concerns until I started seeing you”) he announced that I had auditory “issues.” The hearing specialist sadly confirmed the diagnosis.
I couldn’t believe it. I’ve become the poster child of that all-too-true joke by my late “adopted uncle” Marty Allen: That inside every older man, is that young guy screaming, “What the hell happened?”
Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw (wearing my glasses, of course) this balding, unrecognizable person. And now hearing aids?
After a couple of sleepless nights, I “manned up” and gave in. And I must admit that unless you look closely, you really can’t notice them.
It also helps that while I am follicle-challenged at the top of my head, I can still grow (some) hair on my sides. Once again like that certain young man with that Afro, the top of my ears will be suitably covered. But to be totally candid, it appears that no one cares.
It wasn’t easy at first. I thought the devices did not work… until I realized that this publisher was placing them in backwards. I guess my brain cells are also showing its age.
To my surprise, I have lowered the volume of the TV and most importantly, those individuals who mumbled or talked in hushed tones now seem to have spoken up. My Rana apparently has done so too.
The good news is I now hear everything she says.
The bad news is I now hear everything she says. Apparently I need to re-learn the concept of selective hearing.
Anyway with glasses affixed to my face, hearing aids snuggly fitted in my ears and baseball cap securely placed on top, Rana and I, along with everyone at The Vegas Voice wish you and yours a very happy (and healthy!) New Year.
May all yours hopes, wishes and dreams for 2026 come true.
