I had a gradual decline for years but coped fairly well. I realize now what I didn’t then - that I was increasingly putting far more work into stitching together what I did understand with faint clues from what I didn’t, along with the context of the discussion.
Then one day we got some tragic news that the son of some dear friends had committed suicide. They were loved within their church as well, and at the funeral it was packed to the rafters with mourners. Afterwards there was a reception that completely took over a large nearby restaurant.
At one point the father of the deceased came around to our table and thanked us for our concern, and since many were in shock at how such a thing could happen, the father gave a brief but gut-wrenching account of what had ultimately brought us all together like this.
He went on for a few minutes, but I could get virtually nothing of what he said. The restaurant was too noisy, the only context I could have had was what he was delivering and I couldn’t get a toe-hold. He addressed everyone, and when he looked at me I couldn’t even know what facial expression was appropriate. And I certainly couldn’t ask him to repeat it.
I should have resolved right then and there to look into hearing aids. I never even considered it. I learned what had happened to our friends later from my wife.
A few years later I retired and we moved to a new house. The living room was open to the second floor, which offered acoustics that were very different from our previous home. We spend a lot of our time there, and even my formerly-workable frantic real-time sound-bite assembly process wasn’t cutting it. My frequent requests to have her repeat things got just too annoying. (“What was the first part of what you said?”)
I talked to my PCP, went to her recommended audiologist and nearly fell off my chair when I heard what HAs would cost. (I’m a mechanical engineer with background in electronics packaging, so I knew those prices were just bonkers. I came here, learned a lot, including about Costco, and got the same HAs the first audiologist was selling for $4000 less.)
I never thought about stigma. I had worked with someone with profound hearing loss who wore HAs that were almost as big as my finger. My impression was so what - if he needs them he needs them. I was quite surprised at how small and innocuous most of them are today.
My issue was that I just didn’t want to deal with all that when I was doing OK without. And I was, sort of - until I wasn’t.
If you’re getting indications you need HAs, be proactive. FAR better to start using them when they’re a little more than you think you need, than to encounter a situation where you really need them and not have them. And if you’re like me, you’ll find that all that frantic background processing just to keep up really takes its toll. You don’t notice it as much when you’re doing it because it’s just the reality you have. I didn’t even know it was happening. Getting HAs is a little like the alternative to banging your head against a wall - it feels so good when it stops.
If you’re wondering, get tested. Until then, you don’t have the objective reference you need to make that decision.
My kick in the butt was when my last remaining HA (I usually have my current pair with my previous pair as a backup) had the earhook break and I was getting it fixed the same day by a very nice HIS I had never met before and who was doing it for free during his lunch break. We finished up and my husband said “why don’t you make an appointment since you need new hearing aids anyway” - he never puts me on the spot like that normally! But I made the appointment and both he and I are very happy to have my ears back 