Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.
Then maybe I could hear better.
That was my sad conclusion when I finally overcame years of procrastination and got my hearing checked out.
For a long time, I thought it was just fine, thank you. My wife did not. After too many conversations punctuated by, “Say that again?” or, “What did you say?” or just, “Huh?” I agreed to get help – my own discovery that, as they say, “Denial is not just a river in Egypt.”
On Valentine’s Day, I became the proud owner of high-tech, state-of-the-art hearing aids prescribed and fitted by a professional audiologist here in Jefferson County. My “ear doc” put me through a two-and-a-half hour hearing test that determined I have “moderate” hearing loss, mostly in the higher frequencies, a little more in my right ear than the left.
Now my little helpers, not much bigger than a couple of pieces of candy corn, sit atop my ears like hidden sentinels amplifying and sharpening a whole range of sounds, from chirping birds and rustling leaves to thunder from an oncoming storm or a quiet voice across the room.
More importantly, I can hear people again, even soft-spoken folk. Loud restaurants are still a problem, but I can adjust for that.
We take our two most vital senses, sight and hearing, for granted. Bad nearsightedness put me in glasses at age 10, then I got Lasik surgery 20 years ago that enabled me to go without glasses except for up-close reading and computer work.
My hearing was normal and healthy for many years and I didn’t fall in with many of my fellow baby boomers in attending loud rock concerts.
I have a story about that. For my 60th birthday, nine years ago, our children gave us tickets to a concert at the Hollywood Casino (old Riverport) Amphitheater up in Maryland Heights, featuring Earth, Wind and Fire and Chicago. These were premium tickets for the 10th row from the stage.
As we approached our seats, the bands were warming up and vendors hawked earplugs. That got me wondering. Then we sat down and the volume was painful.
We traded seats with a lady who was about 20 rows behind us. Still too loud. Finally we climbed to the back fence, 300 feet from the stage, and were able to enjoy it from there.
That experience was a little jarring for us because about a year earlier we had gone to the same venue to see James Taylor, one of our favorites and a much quieter performer, whom we enjoyed from the 25th row.
So, if loud rock music didn’t cause my hearing loss, what did? Probably two things. First, aging itself. We all lose our hearing over time; it’s not if, but when.
About 15.5 percent of American adults (18 and over), around 40 million people, have hearing loss, according to the National Council on Aging. That number is expected to grow to 70 million by the 2060s. While it currently affects only 2 percent of young people (12-19), that slice swells to 68 percent for ages 70-79 and 90 percent at 80 or older. And between ages 20 and 69, men are twice as likely to suffer hearing loss as women.
But this goes beyond your ears to what’s between them. Higher rates of dementia and depression track closely with hearing loss. The good news is that studies show treatment with hearing aids can significantly reduce the incidence of those conditions.
The connection of hearing loss with dementia ought to scare the bejeebers out of my fellow boomers, which is why I’m writing this. Unfortunately, less than one in three adults 70 and over have ever used hearing aids. Among the 20-69 age group, that number drops to 16 percent. The NCA also reports that those who get their hearing loss diagnosed and treated wait an average of 10 years to do so.
I probably started the long, slow decline back in my teenager days, from mowing lawns every summer. I spent countless hours, over the decades, behind a 20-horsepower Briggs and Stratton engine at 95 decibels, with anything above 85 considered harmful. (Rock concerts are 120-125.)
I still cut my grass, but now I use an electric Ryobi mower that hums along at about 75 decibels. And I wear ear coverings.
Hearing loss is inevitable but not untreatable. My advice is, if you’re 40 or over, with or without symptoms, get a hearing test with a professional audiologist. (That’s a story in itself because there aren’t enough young people, pursuing careers in medicine, who are choosing audiology.) And don’t settle for the do-it-yourself approach. Over-the-counter hearing aids recently became available and are better than doing nothing, for sure, but hearing loss is serious business. Buying eyeglasses without a professional prescription is a disservice to your eyes, so treat your ears with the same respect.
No doubt many of you readers have your own stories to tell about hearing loss, either for yourself or a family member. Write to us and share your insights and experiences.
We are all ears.