Joel and I were walking along State Road right near our house. We only have to be on the main road for about a tenth of a mile before we get to turn onto a path that gives way to lovely woods.
We were single file, dodging car after car after car, when I shouted back to him, “Can you believe this traffic?” When he didn’t answer, I stopped and turned and said it again, only louder. He said, “I thought you said, ‘Did you eat the chocolate?’” Chocolate? Traffic? OMG, not even close! There was a constant whizz of cars and we were outside, so it could be forgiven that he misheard. But chocolate? Traffic? Anyway, we cracked up and we kept walking.
But hearing is a topic we have started to talk about if we want to get nowhere. We have both said to each other on numerous occasions, “Do you notice how everyone is either whispering or mumbling these days?” And we both know what that actually means—and then we laugh, and the subject quietly closes.
But lately the laughter is less, and I notice we have been in a sort of competition to see who says “What?” more often.
A few years ago, I repeated back to one of my writing students a line she had written that I had particularly loved. The only problem was she hadn’t written it. She had written something else entirely, and when she sheepishly and kindly pointed it out, I blushed, I apologized, and the minute class was over, I made an appointment for a hearing test.
After the extensive exam, the practitioner told me I could probably wait but if I wanted to try a pair of hearing aids for a two-week trial, she would only charge me only a fraction of what they cost if I were to buy them.
I thought, What a great idea. So I used them in three different settings: watching television, leading a workshop, and at a dinner party. I didn’t notice any difference. I returned them saying, “I think I’ll wait.” And for these last two years, I have managed to maintain a reasonable level of hearing that has only been only an occasional issue. Still, I am convinced that my husband has double my amount of whats. And none of this would be problematic if I weren’t the only one thinking his hearing has gotten worse.
Finally, after having “the conversation” where he admitted, “Yeah, I should go to the audiologist and have a test,” I tried to make an appointment for him—but she was three months out. I saw the relief on my husband’s face. It’s as if he thinks the longer he puts it off, the more time he has been a perfect hearer.
Many of our friends who are ten years younger have hearing aids. So what’s the big deal? My father-in-law (my husband’s father, I might emphasize here) started to lose his hearing, and although he was a gregarious guy, we watched him retreat, and eventually (as data supports regarding hearing loss), he was diagnosed with dementia.
I must admit here, I have been obnoxious about this entire subject with my husband. And every time I say, ‘Joel, just get a test,’ and he says nothing (either because he doesn’t hear or because he is choosing not to hear), afterwards, I feel guilty.
A few days ago, I made a pact with myself: I will not mention anything about his hearing again. Clearly it’s a sensitive subject, and it’s got to be up to him. So last night I said, “I’m done giving you a hard time about the hearing thing. I know I’m in the same boat. But I just have to tell you one last thing. It’s a joke, and then I promise this whole thing will be put to rest. The ball will metaphorically be in your court.” He thanked me and said, “Okay, tell the joke.”
I said, “A guy goes to his wife’s doctor and says, ‘Doc, I’m afraid my wife is losing her hearing. I don’t want to offend her by saying anything. What should I do?’ The doctor says, ‘There’s a simple trick you can do to determine her hearing. Simply ask her a question at a distance, and when she doesn’t answer, move slightly closer and ask it again, until she does.’ That night, the guy arrives home and sees his wife cooking. He thinks, Perfect. So from the other side of the room he says, ‘Honey, what’s for dinner?’ She doesn’t answer, so he moves in closer. He repeats, ‘Honey, what’s for dinner?’ and again she doesn’t answer. He repeats, ‘Honey, what’s for dinner?’ again, and this time when she doesn’t answer he thinks, This is even more serious than I thought. So he gets right next to her and actually shouts, ‘Honey! What’s for dinner?’. And the wife yells, ‘CHICKEN!!! For the fourth time!’”
We bent over, hysterical.
I might have landed on a way to keep my promise. Instead of nudging him, maybe I’ll just yell, “Chicken!”. And we’ll laugh until we don’t. Or he’ll yell, “Chicken!”.
And I’ll say, “What?”
