When she started wearing hearing aids, journalism instructor Grace Lim discovered the toll her hearing loss had taken on family and friends.
By Grace Lim
Two months after my 44th birthday, I embarked on a series of routine medical checkups that included a hearing test. I told the audiologist how mumblers appeared to have taken over the world: my yoga teacher, my husband, the college students who take my journalism classes. They all mumbled.
Before hearing aids, instructor Grace Lim had trouble hearing students. (Photo by Megan Sheridan)She listened, nodded, compassion in her eyes, and said, “It’s not them.” Three tiny words, followed by two even more devastating ones. “It’s you.”
That was the day I learned that I had a moderate to severe hearing loss. It should have been obvious to me all these years, but somehow I didn’t notice. I watch TV with subtitles and the volume cranked up. My sons, ages 12 and 9, often say “Never mind” because I have so often asked them to repeat themselves. And for years, I’ve accused my husband of sneaking up on me. “I live here,” he says with exasperation, but has nonetheless learned to announce himself every time he enters a room so he doesn’t startle me. In the large auditorium where I teach one of my classes, I constantly stop my students midsentence so I can run up and down the aisles to get within hearing distance.
My hearing loss appears to be genetic. My mother and grandmother both have hearing loss, but I had always thought it was due to normal aging. But my level of hearing loss at a relatively young age suggests hearing problems run in my family.
After my hearing tests, the audiologist told me that the decibel level at which I am comfortable hearing is twice that of a normal person. When she demonstrated the normal decibel level, I was shocked. It was as if I had been placed into a Charlie Brown TV world where grown-ups spoke in an unintelligible muffled language.
“This is how people without hearing impairment talk to each other,” she said. Then she turned it back to the higher level. “This is how you need them to talk to you,” she explained.
Whoa. All these years of thinking that I’m surrounded by mumblers? It wasn’t them. It’s me.
She fitted me with a tiny pair of triangle-shaped hearing aids. She gently maneuvered the receiver, a small malleable dome with a thin plastic wire, into my ear.
“How do they feel?” she asked
“It feels as if I have something stuck in ears,” I told her.
She nodded. “It’s because you have something stuck in your ears.”
I left the office, but returned in minutes from the medical center lobby. “There must be something wrong,” I told her. I was hearing rumbly noises and a whoosh whoosh sound, along with a ton of chatter.
She sent me away, explaining that I was hearing the heater, the electric door and humanity.
As it turns out, the world is a noisy place. The world squeaks. My computer chair squeaks. My closet door squeaks. My husband’s hand coffee grinder squeaks. I can hear flying leaves rustle by me in the wind.
Standing at the lectern, I now can hear the students in the back row of my class. No more running the stairs. I can watch television without subtitles.
And I’m only just beginning to realize the hardship my hearing problems – and my denial of them — have had on my family. It’s clear now how often my conversations with my husband ended with him saying, “It doesn’t matter,” because he didn’t feel like repeating himself yet again.
Now I can hear my sons’ stories the first time they tell them. The other day, my older son whispered to his brother. When I repeated what he said, his eyes widened. My younger son exclaimed, “I want some!” He thinks my hearing aids would make great spy tools.
Some of what I’m hearing surprises me. My sons and their friends are surprisingly loud, especially when happy. Recently I had four 8- and 9-year-old boys over for a play date. I complained to a friend about the incessant noise and thumping sounds. “They’re kids,” she said. “They thump. That’s what they do. You just didn’t hear it before.”
One of the biggest surprises is the sound that emanates from me. For years, perhaps as a result of watching too many kung-fu movies as a kid, I have had a sense of myself as a ninja-like creature, someone who glides into a room. The first day I had my hearing aids, I was startled by an odd series of sounds that seemed to follow me: step, scrape, step, scrape. It would stop as soon as I stopped moving.
Confused, I looked around, only to realize that the sound was me, stalking myself. I had no idea that I tend to drag my right heel when I walk. Step, scrape, step, scrape.
While my inner ninja is gone, I have discovered that I really am the Bionic Woman. Sometimes, when my students are murmuring in the back of the class, I brush my hair back, cock my head and listen.
Perhaps it’s because my hearing loss is genetic and not age-related, but I am not at all embarrassed about my new bionic ears. Now, whether it’s a close friend, a casual acquaintance or a co-worker, I greet them the same way.
“Look, I have hearing aids!” I exclaim while pulling my hair back to show them.
At first people seem embarrassed by my candor. But once I get them talking, they share their own stories of parents, friends and spouses who remain in denial about their hearing loss.
I told a co-worker that I had no idea how loudly I perform routine tasks like closing the car door or putting down my book bag. She nodded.
“My husband does that,” she said. “He’s always slamming the door or slamming the grocery bags down, and I’m thinking, ‘Great, what now? What is he mad about?’ I’m now wondering if it’s just because he can’t hear how loud he is.”
At my department’s holiday party, I sat between two longtime professors.
“Look, I have hearing aids!” I greeted them. Then I told them how tough it had been to hear my students.
One of them nodded. “I can’t hear my students,” she said. “They all mumble.”
Grace Lim teaches journalism at the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh and has previously worked for People Magazine and the Miami Herald.
Healthy living doesn't happen at the doctor's office. The road to better health is paved with the small decisions we make every day. It's about the choices we make when we buy groceries, drive our cars and hang out with our kids. Join columnist Tara Parker-Pope as she sifts through medical research and expert opinions for practical advice to help readers take control of their health and live well every day. You can reach Ms. Parker-Pope at 
The easiest and most pleasurable way to eat well is to cook. Recipes for Health offers recipes with an eye towards empowering you to cook healthy meals every day. 
From 1 to 25 of 74 Comments
Hearing loss runs in my family, with the unfortunate side effect (for the rest of us) that everyone yells all of the time. ALL of the time. I am always delighted to meet people over the age of 35 who speak in a normal, modulated tone of voice.
That said, people do mumble. Growing up in a hearing-challenged household, I’ve learned to enunciate clearly…a lesson that appears to be lost on a variety of people.
(And yes, when I stop being able to hear my dog walking toward me from three rooms way, or birdsong, or my neighbors’ TV through the wall, I’ll get hearing aids.)
— CharlotteGrandpa was selectively deaf. The whole family complained about his not hearing a thing they said, but when I spoke, he could hear just fine…
To a certain extent, for aging people, loss of eyesight may be less of a problem than hearing loss. Rapid communication requires good hearing. It becomes difficult to maintain social ties is conversations are tedious and laboured.
— SusannaThank you for a thoughful article about a very common problem. I got my aides at 50. I soon became aware of how much extra energy I had been using to “hear.” Lip reading, always sitting in the very front seat of the courtroom, straining to unscramble words, blaming my husband and kids when they spoke to me without looking at me, avoiding large gatherings, complaining that the car directional signal needed to be turned up, etc., etc.
I now describe myself as a poster child for hearing aides. I proudly show off my cute silver and white hearing aides. They look like jewelry, and can be ordered in many cool color combinations.
I declare that being able to hear is keeping me young.
— martmooLike Ms. Lim I lived in a world of mumblers until I got the miraculous Lyric hearing aid system. My hearing loss was the result of unprotected exposure to rifle and artillery fire during my army service. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/15/health/15well.html
FROM TPP — When did you get the Lyric? Tell us more. I wrote about it and hear it gets rave reviews, but would love to hear your thoughts.
— MARK KLEIN, M.D.Grace Lim doesn’t mention another problem that afflicts hearing loss: You pick up only part of what is said and believe you have heard the whole thing. You begin giving inappropriate responses because you didn’t hear that who or what they were talking about and have guessed wrong. People either get annoyed that you haven’t paid attention, or are embarrassed that you got it wrong and don’t bother to correct you. Soon it is taken for granted that you don’t listen or don’t care what other people said. You come off as rude or pig headed or slightly demented, not as merely slightly deaf.
— LydiaIf it seems that many people are getting hearing loss and being in denail of it, then perhaps the fact it fades wth aging isn’t as prominent as it is assumed to be. I also worry for the amount of music people blast into their ears at the age of teenagers and young adults. It may lead to more hearing loss in the next generation.
— SoullessThanks for telling your story. I am getting deaf too - from aging no doubt but also it may be a bit genetic as my mother became quite deaf. Your story has convinced me to call for an appointment with an audiologist to see if I need some help too. Everyone around me mumbles - or talks so fast that my brain cannot keep up with what they say. Hearing aids may help with the deaf part I suspect.
— Getting deaf tooI have a 50% hearing loss in one ear. My ENT specialist did not think that was very noteworthy. Nor did he believe me when I tried to explain to him that during my first tour of duty in college, I was a linguistics major. My best friend was taking speech therapy.
As it turns out back in the days of my youth, I had better than optimal hearing. I could hear clearly at negative decibels apparently. (and yes, I wanted to be a spy at one point in my life. I do still! And even at age 47, my eyesight is 20/10, at least past my elbow, but that’s another story…)
Once my friend tested me, all her classmates wanted to, too. For three semesters, I was the Class Anomaly.
So in theory, I have a greater than 50% loss in my bad ear, as my baseline was different. I could have had a hearing aid (I was a reporter at the time and needed to hear people talk, and he was being paid by my employer) but he denied it. He also ignored symptoms of a disease that two other doctors diagnosed but again, another story for another time.
I compensate by reading lips (another spy skill acquired in childhood) and saying “I’m sorry?” a lot. I have largely won the Battle of the Subtitles for TV watching. Now that I am without insurance, I have to limp along until I can again afford to spill all of this to some HMO-assigned specialist and pray, silently, that he or she thinks me worthy of hearing all the bells, whistles and squeaks of life again.
— Janet VIf this article ( http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/09/health/09brod.html?ref=health ) also on the “Health” page today is true, people with hearing loss will soon have plenty of company — much of it young.
— Ashley TrailrunnerSome people do mumble, and some people have a neural processing problem that hearing aids cannot fix. I went to an audiologist at age 10, and a couple of times since (I’m now 57) for tests because of difficulty understanding what people, and the results were always normal. I can hear faint sounds in a quiet room, but have always had trouble with speech. Sometimes, especially with a foreign language, there is a delay of several seconds between hearing a word and recognizing it, which interferes with understanding ordinary speech. That’s neurological, not hearing loss.
An observation: I also teach in a large university lecture hall. I have no difficulty understanding students at the back of the room, except when I ask them their names. People mumble their own names much more than other speech. I learned to ask them to spell out their names.
Hearing aids are right for some people, but beware the hard sell and full page newspaper advertisements. Eyeglass lenses are rarely advertised; the reason for the difference is the much smaller incentive for hard sell to people who don’t need them, and the existence of objective testing to determine who does need glasses, and which ones.
— Jonathan KatzWonderful story Grace, and a treat to read! You’re a talented writer. Glad to hear that the hearing aids help so much that you can communicate verbally now instead of just by pen or keyboard.
General question: Does anyone know low-cost programs for getting hearing aids? My mom was evaluated and told she needs one, but would have to pay the whole $3K cost. And this is with federal employees’ insurance, and plus it is actually something she needs for her job. There must be some kind of low-cost option I can steer her towards, but I’m at a loss as to where to look. Thanks in advance for any suggestions.
— MeredithAs a long-time wearer of hearing aids, I must add that they don’t actually bring back normal hearing (unless you have a very slight loss) and friends and family still should do their part by speaking clearly, perhaps a bit louder than they ordinarily would and especially not launching a new topic or comment out of the blue with no context.
— Dan CordtzMy hearing loss may be a problem for them, but it’s a lot bigger problem for me.
Dan Cordtz
TPP–Got the Lyric devices the result of reading the NYT article in May, 2008. They seem to clarify sounds rather than simply amplify them. An initial problem once I got them was keeping the volume down to keep out extraneous noise like clinking silverware. Was startling at first to realize just how noisy urban life can be. The volume is controlled by a magnet the wearer inserts in the ear to turn it on or off.
The batteries last about 3 months at which time new devices are inserted. Critical to getting a good result is the skill of the audiologist in placing the device. In the wrong position air can leak in behind the device to cause whistling.
One weakness of the devices is their susceptibility to failure by getting wet. The company doesn’t recommend wearing ear plugs while showering. After shorting out a couple of devices following showering, solved the problem using custom made ear plugs.
The devices aren’t cheap. Rather than sell them they are leased. I pay about $240/month for them. The price includes replacement every 3 months and for when they fail for other reasons like when mine got wet. Life transforming they are worth every penny.
For Northern California readers I got mine at CSG Better Hearing Center 31 Panoramic Way, Walnut Creek, CA, 94595 (925) 938-8686
FROM TPP — This is so great to hear about this. I wrote that article and talked to people who loved them, but to hear your experience is really interesting. thanks.
— MARK KLEIN, M.D.I am both hard of hearing and “hard of seeing”". If I had to choose between becoming blind or totally deaf, I whould choose going blind. I have found that hearing loss cuts one off from others far more than vision loss.
I recognize (I think) Grace Lim’s aids as the Oticon Delta. These came out after the aids I am currently using. After reading her description, I am seriously considering going back to my audiologist to check out the Delta aids. Even with my current aids, I am often forced to ask people to “speak up”.
Jerry
FROM TPP — I’m going to check with Grace on the brand and type and get back to you. Watch this space. She’s teaching now so may be a few hours.
UPDATE: AND CORRECTION: Grace tells me it’s the Oticon Pro Vigo that has the adjustable volume control and mute button. She mispoke earlier
— DirtlawyerI have been suffering hearing loss, both genetic and age-related, for ten years now. In addition, I have tinnitus. I looked into hearing aids first when I had difficulty hearing students in my classroom. After a few years, despite my hearing aids, I had to retire from teaching because although I could hear sound when people spoke, I could no longer determine what they were saying at any distance from me–say ten feet.
Hearing loss has also had a negative effect on one of my life’s greatest pleasures, listening to and playing music, as it has become difficult to determine pitch due to a loss of hearing in the higher frequencies. Choral pieces often sound ragged. The voices have no clear edges.
I have to strain to hear people, and I’ve found myself withdrawing more and more from the active social life I used to have. Coupled with age, this enforced retirement due to lost hearing has been very trying.
I only wish that my hearing aids could restore what I used to have, the full ability to hear. As it is, I have to learn to accept life in a now difficult and frustrating form. Someday, perhaps, I’ll get better at that.
— marik7My wife and I have been noticing this with her mother (age 64). Whenever she visits and watches TV she has the volume up 2-3 times louder than we normally do, and we find ourselves repeating sentences to her a lot. I really am a mumbler, so I really have to ratchet up my voice for her to hear me.
Last week she actually said to us that she was going to get her hearing checked out. I’m glad she’s come to realize it and is willing to do something about it.
— VinnieTPP–So I have you to thank for tipping me off to to the miracle device which restored normal hearing. My grandchildren also thank you!
— MARK KLEIN, M.D.I had hearing problems when I was younger. In Kindergarten, I finally had ‘tubes’ put in to help out. I too remember discovering all kinds of new sounds — toilets flushing, music in the car, my brother in his crib. My parents were amazed by what I had been missing.
Your story reminds me why it’s so important for people to get their hearing checked. Students, especially those in low income areas, continue to need these quick and necessary tests through their schools.
— LauraI believe my husband (age 41) also needs hearing aids. He often doesn’t hear me, especially when I ask him to change a diaper or give the kids baths.
Cathy
— Cathy ChenThank you for sharing your story, Grace ( and boy is your name appropriate). Your students are lucky to be in your air space.
My mother Joan, at age 67, lost all of her hearing, as well as her balance and some eyesight because of bacterial meningitis. Without TTY and e-mail, our communication would be challenging.
She had a cochlear implant put in at Stanford, but still, our in-person conversation is slow and stilted. Joan is a people person, so she experiences great frustration. Still, she chooses to focus on what she has, not what she has lost.
Cheri Block Sabraw
http://www.CheriBlockSabraw.com
essay entiled ” My Silent View”
— Cheri Block SabrawMarch, 2008
I grew up with a family member who profoundly denied she had profound hearing loss. My beloved maternal grandmother began losing her hearing in her mid-forties due to an untreated ear infection, and by the time she was in her sixties, she had lost about 75% of her hearing in both ears. I remember, as a little girl, accompanying her to a hearing clinic and watching her take a hearing test. The audiologist wanted to fit my grandmother with hearing aids immediately - but she said she’d come back after the holidays (it was spring, so I thought she was referring to Passover). When we got back to the car, she told my mother the test was stupid, there was nothing wrong with her hearing, and we all just needed to talk a little louder. There as no way she (a very stylish woman at that time) was going to wear hearing aids.
Of course, as we all got older, her hearing became worse and worse. Accompanied by ever encroaching senility, communicating with grandma was a hardship for everyone. My mother swore that if her hearing got bad, she’d get hearing aids immediately.
About 5 years after my grandmother passed away, my mother went to her ENT for a sinus infection. The doctor must have noticed that her hearing was not good (we had noticed too), and had a hearing test done. The results showed that she had about 50% hearing loss in one ear, and 75% in another. Did she get hearing aids? Absolutely NOT. When reminded of her promise, my mother, in typical fashion said, “well, the hearing aids aren’t going to keep me from losing my hearing, are they?”
In actuality, her reasons weren’t quite so selfish. She had recently learned that her cancer had come out of remission and was probably terminal. She simply didn’t want to spend $4k on hearing aids.
My father lost his hearing in a car accident - the explosion of the airbag release damaged his auditory nerves. He did get hearing aids, but frankly, they really aren’t the miracles that Grace Lim talks about. He comprehends about 3 out of 5 words - and has trouble using the devices when on the phone. Oddly enough - or maybe because of the type of hearing loss, he has no problem hearing sounds at the lower register. He can hear more words spoken by men than women. He hears the slightest bump, thump or bang - even 30 feet away.
In fact, I often suspect that a bit of my Dad’s hearing loss is selective - he just tunes his daughters out.
— LitaA challenge for many of us is that hearing aids often aren’t
— Stevecovered by insurance like dental or visual needs and
much of the marketing seems more focused
on making a fast buck than helping patients/customers.
My hearing is still good enough to understand the
many stories told by friends and family about the
thousands of dollars wasted on so called
“hearing aids” that didn’t work. How do I get
real help and not become a “mark” for hustlers?
Adjusting an earring on my right ear one day, I was startled to hear the click-click of my watch. How odd - why hadn’t I noticed how loud it is before? I held my watch up to my left ear - nothing. I held it to my right ear - loud clicking.
One of the first questions the audiologist asked was, were you in an orchestra, seated in front of, say, the horn section? Asynchronous hearing loss points to some kind of trauma, such as loud music or a gun going off. I think it could have been from my colicky baby who screamed for the first 4-5 months of life as I comforted her on my left shoulder. The doctors discount this. I don’t - she was loud.
I got a very good (expensive) hearing aid that is sensitive to the vocal range and directional (picks up human voice in front). I am usually enthusiastic about cool technology but I adjusted to it. it definitely makes it easier to hear - everything - but it felt awful, the batteries ran out all the time, and it “heard” differently from my good ear which was highly disconcerting.
I gave up wearing it. It’s a $3500 tiny jewel sitting in a case in a drawer now. I just position myself - whether in classrooms, at dinner tables, in conferences - so that my good side can hear the entire conversation. I can’t hear the guy at the drive through at the bank - I can live with that inconvenience.
My experience highlights for me how hard a problem this is. I am not anxious about change and technology, yet I had a lousy experience. It helps me understand why so many elderly people would rather just not bother with hearing aids. I appreciate why they feel this way. When my “good” ear gives out, I’ll look forward to trying the Lyric.
— DebbyTHANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.
I am 34 year old with moderate to severe hearing loss and this article described my life to a T. Even with hearing aids I don’t always do so well - it’s not like getting a pair of glasses. My hearing has gotten worse in the high frequencies over the years and I can no longer hear the high notes when I attend classical music concerts, unfortunately. But conversations with other people can be even harder. Thanks for writing this.
— CarolineI am 77 year old semi retired cardiologist whose congenital deafness became manifest in my early 40s. Not good advertising for a cardiologist, however technology kept up with me as my hearing has become worse (amplifying stethoscope, amplifying telephones, vibrating alarm clock, etc) and, of course, excellent hearing aids. I want to emphasize, strongly that the key is an excellent audiologist, well trained, dedicated, who has the time to select the proper aids and, most importantly, fit them properly. It takes patience on the part of the audiologist and the patient also. I have been very fortunate mainly because of my superb audiologist. Beware of the hacks and quacks.
Paul R Minton, MD
— Paul R Minton, MD