Even More Fun with Hearing Loss

I'm not even going to tell you how I killed my hearing aid. Let's just say that it got wet.
It's been two days now. I fed it a new battery, but it wasn't interested. It's angry, and still playing dead.
At least I hope it's only playing. I'd buy it candy and flowers, but I think our affair may be over.

The next available appointment with the audiologist is August 27th. That's a long time to be without my friend.

Sometimes well-meaning people gush, "You're so lucky! My father needs aids in both ears!"

All I can say is, "Now, think about that for a moment." OK, I need only one hearing aid, but it's because I am completely deaf in the other ear. How did this happen? We think I lost the hearing in my right ear at age 3, when I had spinal meningitis. I am not complaining. I survived meningitis and the hearing in the left ear was good enough for me to get by for many years without help.

The audiologist doubts that meningitis was the culprit. He says that meningitis usually inflicts equal damage on both ears.

My first memory of being affected by my hearing loss was choosing a desk at the back of the room on my very first day of school and having my dad say, "No, you have to sit up front." Another effect is never knowing where sounds are coming from. Everything seems to originate on the left, whether it's an approaching fire truck or a friend trying to get my attention in the supermarket. I'll turn to try and locate my friend , who's laughing and saying, "Over here! Over here!" Even with a hearing aid, I miss punch lines, because people's voices tend to fall at the end of a sentence. Meetings can be a nightmare, because I understand speech better when I can look at the speaker. Someone's talking, but where are they?