I have heard the future and the future is... I'm sorry, can you repeat that, please?
I come from a seriously hard-of-hearing family. My dad's been partially deaf as long as I can remember. He had an accident that damaged one of his eardrums when he was younger and he's always worn a hearing aid. As he grew older, his hearing became worse in both ears. He can still hear you if you speak clearly at a decent enough volume, if he's got his hearing aid in, and if he thinks you're worth listening to.
He's not the only one. My mum, also in her eighties, now needs a hearing aid too. The sad thing is that her eyesight's also pretty bad, though I've never once heard her complain about her failing senses. And for someone who struggles to both see and hear, she rarely misses anything - especially the local gossip. I'm proud of both my parents for the way they handle their disabilities. It's partly their generation, partly the way they were brought up. They don't whinge, they just get on with. They're an inspiration to us all.
And then there's my brother. A good sixteen years older than me, he's also finding it harder to hear. Being the successful man-about-town that he is, he's invested in a top of the range hearing device that cost as much as many people would pay for a small car. He doesn't wear it often. I doubt he think he's missing anything.
I know I'll be next. My hearing's never been great. Maybe it was too much loud music as a younger man. Standing too close to the speakers at gigs. Or maybe it just runs in the family. I already need the TV louder than Louise is comfortable with. (Ironically, Louise can hear a pin drop in a dressmaker's shop twenty miles down the road. She can also hear a price drop in a shoe shop of similar distance - but that's a different matter.) I struggle to follow conversations in crowded pubs or restaurants. If there's music playing in the background, I can rarely hear more than the beat. If I'm in the attic and Louise is two floors below in the living room, I can't always hear what she's telling me to do. It's only a matter of time before I face up to the inevitable... I probably need a hearing aid too. Or at the very least an ear trumpet. But I'm fighting the future. I refuse to give in to the inevitable. Call it pride or hubris or a grumpy reluctance to actually hear any more of what people are saying about me... but I'm holding out as long as I can.
I'm sorry, did you say something?
