I Kept Telling Myself to Slow Down

Last autumn I was visiting some friends in Virginia who had an additional houseguest for the weekend, a woman who, it turned out, was profoundly hearing impaired.  As soon as we were introduced, she explained what her limitations were, but said that she wore hearing aids and could read lips. She had two requests of us though - would we please face her when we were speaking, and would we speak one person at a time. When everyone spoke at the same time, she couldn't follow what was being said.   Those sounded like reasonable requests to me. (Did we really all try to speak at the same time?)

It turns out that yes, we did.  I guess I had gotten so accustomed to the constant over-talking and interrupting that characterizes the type of verbal interaction I usually have in the excitable groups I pal around with.  Conversation is practically a contact sport for my friends and me. I was shocked to discover that slowing down, facing Cindy, and taking turns speaking was incredibly difficult to do.

It took quite a while for me to get the hang of it.  But eventually I was able relax, and accept the idea that there was enough time for all of us to get to our ideas out there in a way that we all could hear and comprehend.  We managed to get through dinner, engaged in lively conversation.

But the next morning, I had reverted to my old ways and was trying to talk to Cindy while I moved away from her, or worse, turned away from her, or even while I was leaving the room!  

Good grief.  Why was I finding it so difficult to slow down and be in the present moment?  It turns out that my brain, my mouth and the rest of my body are often not in the same place at the same time. When I am in one location, I am thinking about where I'll be next. When I'm answering one question, I'm imaging what the next question will be. 

That weekend was a real learning experience for me. I learned  many things about myself, but I also learned how frustrating it is to be an active, engaged , intelligent person with a hearing impairment.  Cindy was not going to sit on the sidelines while the rest of us sped on, talking too fast, not speaking clearly,  and not taking the few moments of care that would enable her to keep up with us. She was not a shrinking violet, smiling and trying to pretend that she heard what we were saying. No, she would stop us, and remind us to slow down.  

When I got home to Dover, I was newly aware of how many times I found myself in situations where hearing what was going on might be difficult for some people.  I kept attending meetings where the acoustics were awful - all hard surfaces, high ceilings, no mics.  

Speakers who are addressing a panel or committee speak with their backs to the audience and hence cannot be heard.  Some people speak so tentatively and quietly that they cannot be heard.  They use the same voice level as if they were talking to two people who were only 12 inches  away.  Many people, even when they do have a hand-held microphone, brandish it as if they were warding off the evil eye,  only occasionally getting it close enough to their mouths so that it can pick up their speech.

Maybe this is one of the skills that keeps getting cut out of the school curriculum  - speaking effectively to groups. I'm sure that many people who do not hear well simply do not bother to go to meetings or other gatherings.  

Well, enough complaining.  I have made a promise to myself  to slow down, look at the person or people to whom I am speaking, and to try to be aware of the sound level of my voice.  I learned public speaking at a time when we had to pitch it to the last row in the auditorium, under the balcony, so usually I have to remember to dial it back.  I am also going to do what I can to suggest that public gatherings take into consideration what accommodations might need to be made so that hearing impaired people can hear what is going on.

Hearing impairment is a growing phenomenon - all those baby boomers who went to all those concerts where the sound level was so high it seemed as if the band was inside your own chest - your ribs rattled from the sound.   And our kids are making the same mistake. So audiology is going to continue to be a good bet as a career choice.

Oh, wait. I thought of one more point.  Hearing impaired people can sleep through a smoke alarm.  I know this, because I know someone who did just that. It turns out that the regular smoke alarm is pitched to a high note. There are smoke alarms that emit the same decibels, but at a middle "C" pitch, which hearing-impaired people can hear. But because so few of these are sold, they are extremely expensive compared to the smoke alarms you can just buy at the hardware store for very little money.  OK, that's all I have to say on this matter.