I have spent the last "8 working days" filling up with a mixture of desperation and excitement as I wait (impatiently) for my first pair of hearing aids. I never thought I would use the words 'hearing aids' and 'excitement' in the same sentence, but needs must. I've been reminded not to get too excited as they are not a fix and they will only amplify what I can currently hear, yet I can't help it as the thought of hearing any additional sounds would be amazing. I'm waiting for the phone call to say that the appointment has been canceled or they are still waiting for the delivery.
My mum kindly took me for moral support. The audiologist produced a lovely shiny box (mind you I would have considered a dirty, rusty box or even a supermarket bag as being lovely at that point!) and I waited in anticipation for him to open it. This was the moment, the moment when he would find the box empty, discover it was the wrong order or worse still find they were beige! There they were, two purple hearing aids, much smaller than they looked in the picture and extremely light.
My mum kindly took me for moral support. The audiologist produced a lovely shiny box (mind you I would have considered a dirty, rusty box or even a supermarket bag as being lovely at that point!) and I waited in anticipation for him to open it. This was the moment, the moment when he would find the box empty, discover it was the wrong order or worse still find they were beige! There they were, two purple hearing aids, much smaller than they looked in the picture and extremely light.
The audiologist put them in and around my ear to make sure the fitting was good.
I couldn't get over how comfy they were. He started to tweak things on them via his computer. The clarity was awful, I could barely hear what he and Mum were saying. All I could hear was the noise of a train. You know the sound of when you are waiting on a platform and a train goes past you really, really fast? Well that's what I could hear and at that volume too. The audiologist and my mother wondered whether it was due to the noise of the air conditioning system or his printer. We agreed that I would go away and see how I got on.
My ears felt exhausted. *The only way I can describe that feeling, is if you imagine you are squinting because of staring at the sun, now imagine doing that all day. This would make your eyes sore, so you would stop gazing at the sun. **In the same way (without the sun!) my ears are straining to hear noises, but I can't put my sunnies on my ears!
My first step out of the door was one step too many, it was a cacophony of noise.
I went into a supermarket and I couldn't hear anyone's voices just a continuous unrecognisable, monotonous loud sound. I couldn't get out of the shop soon enough. I had been determined to wear them for the rest of the day for me to start getting used to them, however by the time I reached the car I couldn't stand them any longer and quickly pulled them out. When I got home, everyone wanted to see them so I put them in again and switched them on. The screeching noise (not the same as the whistling noise some hearing aids make) was so loud that everyone in the room immediately covered their ears in pain. It was so unbearable that I had no option but to take them off, unable to tolerate them any longer. I felt so disheartened, depressed (in the true meaning of the word), frustrated, cross with myself for allowing myself to have got so excited, cross with myself for expecting too much, let down by the audiologist for recommending them and saying how good they are and I was even cross with the manufactures for creating them.
*Safety notice: please note I am not endorsing the act of staring at the sun as that would be a ludicrous thing to do! **As for covering your ears with sunnies...!
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