My Love-Hate Relationship with Hearing Aids

by Robin Bonner

True Confessions
Okay. So. I have a confession to make.

I have hearing aids.

You didn’t know that, did you? So, here we are. It’s not like I wanted them. And it’s not like I wanted anyone to know about it, really. But I think it’s important to talk about it, to take one for the team, so to speak: Somebody’s gotta do it. So, I’m here to say: If you need hearing aids, get them. Figure out a way to pay for them. If you do it right, they’ll work, you’ll get used to them, and no one will know you have them. Finally, you’ll be glad you did it. If you can’t hear, you don’t know what you’re missing.

But, I didn’t always see things that way. . .

It all started when I was in my early 40s. I found I was having trouble hearing conversations, especially during meetings at work. And, when our kids were home and we’d all hang out and everyone would (invariably) talk at once, I couldn’t hear well enough to follow the conversation. So, I couldn’t join in myself.

Eventually, my older daughter married. Our new son-in-law was (and still is) soft-spoken, as well as smart and funny. However, I often couldn’t make out what he said, so I wasn’t able to get to know him as well as I wanted to, and our relationship wasn’t as rich as it should have been. At the same time, Gary and the girls were getting impatient with me asking them to repeat everything. It was very frustrating.

In addition, when I went to the movies or watched TV, I couldn’t hear the dialogue. How much of a plot is revealed by dialogue? Right. I’d whisper to Gary, “What did they say?” Of course, that disturbed the other patrons in a movie theatre and disturbed Gary, who was also watching and trying to figure out what was going on, every time I did it.

So, I began to feel isolated and alienated and, sometimes, stupid. In reality, I began to feel a little depressed.

My ears, nose, and throat specialist (also my allergist) did some testing and diagnosed a “mid-range hearing deficit,” although she couldn’t tell what caused it. It wasn’t a tumor. Was it a virus? The tests were inconclusive. Still, she recommended that I look into getting hearing aids. However, I did nothing about it.

After all, I was a young woman, and only “old” people have hearing aids, right?

Thus, obstacle #1 to hearing aids presented itself: I didn’t want to look like an “old person.”

Once I began to toss around the idea, though, obstacle #2 reared its ugly head: Hearing aids are expensive—as much as $2,000 to $3,000 per ear—none of which is covered by health insurance. (Because, you know, it’s not necessary for you to hear. It doesn’t matter that you feel isolated and depressed and are doing poorly at work. Don’t get me started . . . )

One more thing (obstacle #3): If I did get hearing aids, would I be able to get used to them? After all, I had tried contact lenses many years ago, couldn’t stand them, and went back to glasses.

Finally (obstacle #4), would they really work? Would they, in the end, be worth it? If I wasn’t happy with them or found I wouldn’t wear them, for whatever reason, I would have wasted a LOT of money.

Taking the Plunge: Attitude
Ten years passed after I had first noticed problems with my hearing and had the initial testing done. Of course, my hearing had only worsened. Could I find a way to live with hearing aids? Could I find a way to pay for them?

I was more than 10 years older now, I reasoned. That was true, but I was only in my 50s, and looked even younger. Looking older never helps a person in a job search, in a new social situation, or in any way I could think of. There are hiring laws there to protect us, and in reality, we are only as old as we see ourselves (!), but you know how it is. The bottom line is that looking old can only be a hindrance.

On the other hand, my job had become more demanding: I needed to participate in more and more sales calls, in person and via teleconference, often with people whose native language was not English. (Accents posed a major problem for me.)

In addition, I had by now asked hundreds (and hundreds?) of people (both at and outside of work) to repeat themselves—many of them strangers. My family had virtually stopped repeating anything for me when we all got together, so I just was no longer in the loop at family gatherings.

Finally, I found that I was answering questions I thought I had heard (but, in fact, something else altogether had been asked), often to comedic effect.

What, would I continue to be unable to hear for another 10 or 20 years, until I felt I “looked old enough” to have hearing aids? Was it possible that I might completely lose my quality of life and ability to communicate long before then, without doing a thing about it?

A chance happening provided the epiphany I needed. We were attending a noisy social event, and I asked an acquaintance to repeat herself several times. Then, a little embarrassed, I apologized, saying I had a hearing problem. She asked, “Are you looking into hearing aids? If not, you should!”

I was taken aback. As it turned out, though, she was wearing a pair, and I didn’t even know it! This woman was my age, I had known her for some time, and she had hearing aids for years. She was happy to show them to me and to explain the technology. The bulk of the device rested behind her ear, covered by her hair. Only a very thin clear tube was visible over the top of her ear (she had to pull her hair aside so I could see it). The tube was attached in the front to a tiny transmitter covered by a small rubber “basket,” which resided completely inside the ear canal. All of this was essentially invisible unless you were looking for it. So, acting as if you didn’t have them, at least in public, was definitely a possibility.

I decided then and there that other than my family and close friends, no one needed to know about it, and no one would. Once I began to carefully, calmly look at the remainder of the facts, a plan unfolded.

Taking the Plunge: Financials
Thus, with obstacle #1 to getting hearing aids (privacy) firmly removed, I turned my sights to obstacle #2 (paying for them).

Perhaps I could (finally) figure out a way to pay for them. The fact is, as my hearing steadily declined, we were also whittling down our kids’ college tuition bills and freeing up some disposable income. Around the same time, I got a promotion and a raise at work, which also put a little more cash in the bank account. In addition, I found out about a “flexible spending” plan offered by my company. The planets were aligning.

A Flexible Spending Plan could soften the financial blow of purchasing hearing aids in a number of ways. First, the medical bill is paid by the plan provider with pre-tax income, so the hearing aids end up costing less because the income used to pay for them is tax-free. Second, each pay period, a set amount is deducted from your paycheck to fund the plan. So although paying for the hearing aids can be a bitter pill to swallow, it can be accomplished without any additional effort.

Finally, and probably the financial clincher for me, was this (a tip I received from my friend with the hearing aids): Signing up for the maximum amount (by law) that the plan offered (in my case, $2,500) two years in a row would allow me to get hearing aids for both ears (about $5,000) almost simultaneously, yet over two years, have the expense for both ears covered. Thus, I had one ear fitted in late November 2011 and the other in early January 2012, just a few weeks apart. So, I received both hearing aids fairly quickly but was able to spread paying for them over two years. This took some planning (I needed to sign up for the max amount on the plan in November 2011), but I had already been mulling the idea over for 10 years, so it was a non-issue.

I still needed to deal with obstacle #3—the feeling that I would not get used to them—and that one was difficult to overcome. After all, hearing aids are foreign bodies. Wouldn’t they “feel weird”? Would that odd sensation ever go away? Or, would it drive me nuts? Probably the latter, but I would HAVE to deal with that. I prayed I could get used to them. Of course I would; thousands of people wear them and do fine with them. I would, too. I wasn’t going to worry about something I couldn’t control now.

Finally, obstacle #4 nagged at the back of my mind: Would they even work? God, I thought, being able to hear well again would be nothing short of a miracle. What if they didn’t work? Again, no sense worrying about what hasn’t happened yet. Still, I decided to keep my expectations modest. After all, the aids would surely help, even if they did not clear up 100% of my hearing problems. So, not expecting 100% (and warning my family to do the same) seemed wise. That way, none of us would be disappointed. And, any improvement at all would be, well, an improvement.

I had run out of excuses. It was time!

Meeting Doctor Anger
Moving forward, I knew that choosing the right doctor would be paramount. This would greatly increase my chance of success in choosing the right type and brand of hearing aid, having them set up accurately, ensuring that they work properly, and resolving any problems later. So, I set about doing the most important thing: I looked for an audiologist and a practice I could trust.

My friend had told me about her doctor—Pam Anger, at Penn Radnor (University of Pennsylvania’s Radnor, PA, campus)—and that she was knowledgeable, patient, and helpful. These all were attributes you want in a doctor you’ll be working with in choosing, fitting, and maintaining your hearing aids, as well as guiding you through the entire process. I would trust Penn Radnor to give excellent customer service.

Different than her name might imply, Pam Anger is friendly, patient, knowledgeable, and thorough. I couldn’t have been happier with her. Every interaction we had further convinced me that I had made the right decision. I had taken the plunge the previous year and signed up for the maximum amount on my flexible spending plan. So, as I approached the end of the year, I made the first appointment.

When I met Pam, I liked her right away. First she did an hour-long barrage of testing in a sound-proof booth. (“Push the buzzer when you hear a sound!” which I did, dozens of times, wishing I hadn’t forgotten to bring coffee!) This gave her a fix on the current state of my hearing and helped her create a program for my hearing aids that would “fix” those problems for me.

Then, Pam educated me on the various types of hearing aids and made recommendations. She also explained their features, including Bluetooth, remote, TV transmitter, and other gadgets, available for an additional fee (about $400). We tried on various models. I picked the one that showed the absolute least without being surgically implanted. (It was similar to my friend’s set.) Based on the various brands and models Pam showed me, and her recommendations, I was able to make the requisite aesthetic choices and then hone in on final costs. In the end, the aids themselves cost $2,200 per ear.

The contract would give me two years of unlimited office visits, so Pam could fine-tune the “program,” and all parts would be covered under warranty, even if the aids were lost. It was an amazing deal, even if it was costly. At least I felt as though I was getting my money’s worth, and nothing would be left to chance. If I was unhappy with how the aids were working, I’d make an appointment, and Pam would fine-tune things until I was satisfied. At the end of the contract period, I could pay more for a longer warranty or go without a plan and pay for additional office visits (or maybe just an annual “tune-up”) at a rate of about $50 each.

Going through the process, I was convinced that taking the plunge was the right thing to do. Pam’s mirror convinced me that in all likelihood, no one would, in fact, be able to see any remnant of a hearing aid on or around my ear. The aids come in colors, and I picked “pearl,” which would blend best with my blonde/gray hair. So, the casing that would rest behind my ear would be camouflaged.

Thus began my great professional relationship with Pam Anger. I had been a little nervous, but she quietly answered my every question. Never once did I feel that I was being pushed into anything. Pam’s explanation of how the program worked was perfect for the lay person. And, I would have a 30-day trial period. I’d have a month to wear each hearing aid, and I could return it for a full refund (less a small processing fee) within that time period, should I decide hearing aids were not for me.

I was ready.

Wearing Hearing Aids
Two weeks later, the first hearing aid came in. Pam fitted it to my ear and set the program. We also set up the remote to adjust volume and also to cycle through the four settings: normal, background noise (for noisy social settings), Bluetooth (for use with my iPhone), and TV. The aid ran on one #13 battery, available at any drug store. If I removed the battery at night and reinserted it before wearing again the next day, it would last about a week to a week and a half. And, I could attach the remote to a lanyard and wear it around my neck, where it would serve as a microphone to my phone’s Bluetooth, allowing me to have hands-free phone conversations while driving or working at home or in the office.

Pam warned that at first I would hear Every. Little. Thing. And, she was right. Those first few days drove me nuts. I heard every single crackle made by a plastic bag. Just making lunch for myself the first day caused a racket. I heard every tiny creak of a floor board. It sounded as if the place was overrun by burglars! Pam had said, “Don’t worry about it; your brain will tune out those “unimportant” noises eventually.” It was difficult, but I did my best to remember that.

I also knew the hearing aid would irritate my ear canal. I could tell just from trying them on in the Penn Radnor office. So, after wearing the aids for a couple of days (except while sleeping), I decided to take a day off, to let my ear canal heal and give myself a break from all the new noise. Eventually, though, I could tell that my ear canal was toughening up and my brain was compensating: I felt like I was under water when I was wasn’t wearing them. What’s more, the tinnitus I had experienced for years was pretty much gone when I would wear the aids. (However, when I had them out, it would come back with a vengeance.)

I had a month with the first aid to decide if I wanted to keep it and proceed with getting the second one. I could still back out and get my money back. It was a completely guaranteed venture. Pam and Penn Radnor believed that I would be a happy customer, and they did everything to assure that I was one.

Well, as odd as it all was, I had no complaints—there was nothing I couldn’t handle. I was becoming a hearing aid wearer, and, since the device wasn’t noticeable, I was doing it in secret. Perfect!

Several weeks later, I went back to get the second aid fitted, and it was the same deal.

The plan was that I would go back for an adjustment every few weeks. We finally began to taper off our visits as things got “under control”: My questions were becoming fewer, and fewer adjustments were necessary so that the program offered the highs and lows I needed for the conditions to which I exposed my ears. I found I was adjusting nicely. Once I had both hearing aids, if my remote needed to be charged, I could reach behind my left ear and by touching a small lever on the aid, I could cycle through the same mode settings. Alternately, the volume control (up for loud, down for soft) on my remote was also reflected at the top of the right hearing aid. I could nonchalantly reach up as if I were scratching my ear and adjust the volume.

So, for the past two years, I’ve worn my hearing aids while doing everything except swimming (and I have to remember to take them out—they’ve become so much a part of my ear!). I’ve gone hiking, biking, beaching, rock-climbing, and sailing with them. I have had a few hairy incidents: I’ve worn them sailboat racing in the summer, so I could be sure to hear Gary the Skipper’s instructions, but I’m having second thoughts about doing that anymore because of the risks. (They can’t get wet, and sometimes the conditions are severe—very windy, with waves crashing over the bow—so they could get knocked right out of my ear. A few hikes that turned rainy had me nervous. I now remember to have a waterproof case with me on such ventures.) On the other hand, I haven’t heard creek frogs in years, but heard them again with my hearing aids. I had no idea what I was missing!

Most important, I’m part of family conversations again. And, I was right: My son-in-law is truly hilarious.

What to Tell People
What do I tell people about my hearing aids? I don’t tell them anything. If necessary, I still ask individuals to speak more loudly. The fact is, if I turn up the volume too much on the hearing aids, they squeal. And, some people are still too soft spoken for me to understand their every word. Making it known that you don’t hear very well usually solves the problem. You just need to be assertive and matter-of-fact about it. People will enunciate a little better and speak a little more loudly if you take that approach. One thing’s certain: I need to do that much less than I used to!

I never announce that I have hearing aids, and I’ve found that no one knows they’re there. That said, I did ‘fess up to one complete stranger recently. I found myself at a rather cozy committee meeting for a nonprofit I belong to—only four of us had shown up—and after asking the one woman I didn’t know to repeat herself a couple of times, I learned she was VP of marketing for the hearing aid division at Siemens—the manufacturer of my brand, if you can believe that. Of course, before we departed, I just had to tell her.

It was like a magic trick my dad used to perform on me when I was a kid: “pulling a coin” (that I knew wasn’t there) from behind my ear. Of course, when I reached back and pulled out a hearing aid—showing off the Siemens brand—she was quite surprised. She said I had “made her day.” Only one of the two other meeting-goers knew the situation, but I’m friendly enough with both of them that we all were able to just laugh it off. Everyone loves a good story and a surprise. I think she was stunned that she didn’t already know. So, what do I tell my classes? After all, I’m an English teacher. (Side question: Why do students always insist on sitting in the back of the classroom and leave the front rows empty?) First, let me say that I can hear much better in class now than I could before getting hearing aids. That said, though, things are not perfect. The room is large and students tend to talk softly. So, I always tell my classes at first opportunity that my hearing isn’t great, so I’d appreciate it if they would speak up. Then, I adapt as best I can. I walk around the room and position myself near the student speaking. When I can’t hear someone, I look him or her in the eye and ask him or her to speak up. If I have to ask more than once, I have a classic retort: “Look, when I was your age,” I tell them, “I was too busy hanging out at bars boasting live, loud bands to bother taking care of my hearing.” So, even if they haven’t yet spotted the telltale plastic tube draped over my ear, they are still sufficiently distracted by my romantic rock-and-roll tale from thinking, “Wow, she’s old!”

Epilogue
Finally, I’ll repeat the advice I offered in the first paragraph: If you are having a hearing problem, take care of it. Don’t worry. Find a great audiologist and get the hearing aids. You’ll be glad you did.

And, I won’t tell anybody if you don’t.

LINKS
http://www.asha.org/public/hearing/Treatment/ American Speech-Language-Hearing Association offers practical information on hearing loss and hearing aids, including common myths and facts.
http://www.consumerreports.org/cro/hearing-aids/buying-guide.htm# Consumer Reports did a comprehensive article on choosing and purchasing hearing aids. A must-read if you’re even thinking about it.
https://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/hearing/pages/hearingaid.aspx The National Institutes of Health offers a rich compendium of valuable information on hearing loss and hearing aids.
The American Academy of Audiology offers helpful info on taking care of your hearing.