I
hate to say it, but I’ve begun to notice that I, along with several of my
friends, aren’t hearing quite as clearly as we once did. Phone calls are particularly bad, because I
find myself either having to repeat things more than once or shout when I’m talking.
And in return, I notice I’m saying “huh?” so often, I probably sound as if I
have something stuck in my throat.
The
other night, an old family friend called. The conversation went something like
this:
“So,
how was your week?” he asked.
“Not
so good,” I said. “I turned on my central air-conditioner and nothing happened.
It was completely dead. I think the mice got in there and chewed up the wires
again.”
“Oh,
you have central air-conditioning? That must be nice on hot days.”
“When
it’s working, it’s nice. But not right now. I’m so frustrated, I’m tempted to
shoot it!”
“The
shoe fit? What style did you buy?”
The
conversation got only worse after that.
I
remember when my husband started to lose his hearing. At first, I couldn’t
figure out whether he had “selective” hearing and was just ignoring me, or if
he actually had a problem.
Most
of the time, no matter what I said, he’d just answer, “Yeah.” He probably
figured I’d be happy if he agreed with me, so “yeah” was a safe answer.
I’d
say, “Do you want steak for dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“You
want fries with it?”
“Yeah.”
“Or
would you prefer mashed potatoes?”
“Yeah.”
“Is
it OK if I run off with Ricardo, the 20-something Brazilian landscaper and
part-time exotic dancer I met last week?”
“Yeah.”
But
I began to suspect he really was losing his hearing when he started
misinterpreting what I was saying. I
remember one afternoon when I asked him if he wanted his ham sandwich on pita
bread.
“Peter’s
dead?” he gasped. “When? How?”
He
was referring to my cousin who, I’m pleased to say, still is very much alive.
Another
time, we were in the car and a song came on the radio where the singer was
singing, “My eyes adored ya.”
My
husband sang along with it, “My eye’s in Georgia.”
But
I’m finding that as I get older, I’m beginning to have trouble, too. It was
evident last week when my friend, who’s Scottish, called to chat. It was bad
enough I had to strain to hear her, but her thick Scottish accent and the fact
she rrrrrrr-rolls all of her rrrrrrrr’s when she speaks, made my struggle even
worse.
I
hate to say it, but I ended up using my husband’s “yeah” technique throughout
most of the conversation. Judging from my friend’s tone of voice after some of
my responses, however, I’m pretty sure I said, “yeah,” when I should have been
saying, “no,” or “Oh, that’s terrible!”
I also think I may unintentionally have offended her.
I
mean, she either said, “I’m dieting because I have more spare tires than the
Michelin Man,” or she said, “I’m so tired, I need a trip to Michigan, man!”
Either
way, I answered, “Yeah!”
I
have the feeling she won’t be calling me again any time soon.
# # #
No comments:
Post a Comment