I am officially a wearer of hearing aids. This is what they look like. Quite discreet. You can’t see them behind my ear unless you literally pull the ear away from my head and stand one-inch away. A thin clear wire shows slightly because my hair is so short. It doesn’t bother me at all. If I let my hair grow one-half inch, the wire will be hidden.
The woman behind me on the bus earlier today had ice in her drink. I heard it as she shook the cup. I heard every word the woman in front of me was saying on her cell phone. She wasn’t speaking loudly, either. When the man sitting next to me rustled his Wall Street Journal, I heard it.
When another woman dropped one of her shopping bags, it sounded like a watermelon was in it. I heard the man behind me speaking Italian to his wife. The aids don’t translate from Italian to English but I heard each individual word.
I didn’t have to strain to hear a conversation on my cell phone.
I know it doesn’t matter whether I can hear strangers on a bus, but it’s nice to more clearly hear the person I’m talking to on my cell phone or in person.
I removed the aids before I went into the beauty salon this afternoon so they wouldn’t get wet. When Megan was washing my hair, she asked if I was wearing “autumn colors,” which I thought was odd since I was wearing navy and orange and I never thought of navy as an autumn color. “No. I just like the colors,” I answered, “but it does feel like autumn today.”
“No, I said Auburn,” Megan explained, enunciating more clearly. She meant the school, not the season. The aids are supposed to help me distinguish between words like these.