Andy's Odyssey - Part 1

The figures I see and hear indicate that most people who could be benefited by competent hearing health care, mostly through properly fitted hearing aids, are not receiving or pursuing those benefits.  Based on my life's experience, my question is, "How do you help people who don't know they can be helped, think they cannot afford any degree of help, or who don't necessarily think that they even need help?"

I'll contribute the following thoughts and observations as a person who has shied away from the hearing health industry for almost a lifetime.  Hopefully the reader will find something useful, be it for his own or another's benefit. My awareness of hearing loss began as a small child, with doctor's appointments, hearing tests, speech therapy, and a growing awareness that my hearing loss made me different, and that my opportunities and interactions were also different.

My parents think my loss occurred around age 2 as a result of a high fever. It is a moderate, bilateral sensorineural loss, being nearly normal at low frequencies and worsening with higher frequencies.  I did pretty well with my mainstream education by sitting near the front of classes and developing self-taught lipreading skills. I did not use any hearing aids or other appliances with the exception of an attempt in the mid 1970's at wearing aids as a high-school sophomore.  This experience left little doubt that I wanted nothing to do forevermore with the hearing aid industry!

I'll argue that this was acceptance; I was going to cope as well as I could and find a way to have a happy life.  And for the most part, that's what happened.  I chose a technical education in a field where the loss wouldn't pose a major problem, then found a job in this field.  I met and married someone wonderful, changed jobs a time or two and now I find myself with a great job with a company worldly regarded as "one of the best places to work."  And I'm still happily married, too!

But there were always nagging thoughts about the choices I didn't make, or felt were not viable choices given my hearing loss.  I've often wondered about the things I didn't do, the situations I avoided, experiences bypassed, and the opportunities others had. I needed to explore these questions.  I needed to cross this physical and mental barrier that lay across my trail.  New and exciting work opportunities loomed, and our first child was on the way.

I began by gathering courage and attending a conference for deaf and hard of hearing employees put on by my company in June of 1998.  For the first time I met others who understood this struggle.  I met people of all occupations right on up to corporate staff, with all degrees of hearing loss, and with a wide variety of life experiences.  I came away with good information from comfortable sources, and determination to seek more knowledge and to do all I could to go beyond my previously held limitations.  I made an appointment with a recommended audiologist who thoroughly measured and tested my hearing, sharing his knowledge, strategies, and also amazement that I had waited so long before seeking help.  We tested a couple different types of hearing aids, and I've been wearing a pair just about every waking moment since.  I took subscriptions for informational hearing journals and joined a couple of local hearing related groups, one of which I'll tell more about later in this article.  I sought out and networked with some of those I'd met at the conference and at these meetings.  I joined an email list dealing with this topic where I again experienced the profound comfort of others who understood, and who were trying and succeeding in all their diverse lives.

In thinking about my own situation I have a few observations that might apply to others who don't seem willing to do anything to address their hearing difficulties.

1. Suspicion of an industry that has shown and continues to demonstrate suspicious practices.

The advertising that looks so reassuring.  In fact, the better the claims are in these ads, generally the more misleading they are.  "So small you won't even know they are there" comes to mind.  In my recent experience small may be less noticeable for others, but more noticeable to the wearer in terms of comfort, convenience, dependability, and cost. With the experiences we've all had with marketing bombardment in life, it is easy to want to avoid that which comes from the hearing aid industry.

2. Embarrassment of a visible handicap.

We somehow think we are not handicapped or are less handicapped if our aids are not readily visible and other people don't know that we need them.  While we need for society to change and be more accepting of hearing loss, some of the change can come from ourselves in making a realistic assessment of our abilities with and without assistance.  I have found it more rewarding to rely on better comprehension than my own good looks (hah!). Wanting to hide our assistive devices tends to cultivate the same attitude around us in stigmatizing hearing aid use.  On the other hand, a display of confidence and competence immediately renders the hearing appliance obscure.

3. Avoidance of accepting help that is accompanied with implications of a solicitation or obligation, or a guilt trip.

There are some really good professional folks and service organizations out there that want nothing more than to serve valuable assistance.  There is also a reluctance to use that help.  It takes a very confident person to accept help. Something that comes to mind as a less threatening way to reach people who might be skeptical would be widely available pamphlets with accurate information, plainly and publicly endorsed by a broad coalition of well known organizations and groups that are not in business for the reader's money.  

Here's Part Two