Pianos, Air Vents and Birds

Some six years ago, I was in the car with my good friends Rick and Paul and they were strongly suggesting I get a hearing aid. Or at least a hearing test. When I countered that I had thought of getting a hearing test, but was nervous about hearing the results, without missing a beat, they both shouted:   “You won’t!”   But the time has come. Finding myself saying “say it again” far too often when conversing with friends, hopeless in noisy restaurants and unable to understand what a kid with a high voice is saying to me in the middle of a class, I finally relented. As is typical for people my age, much hearing loss in the higher register and perhaps a bit more because of playing Balinese gamelan and Bulgarian bagpipe indoors. So today I was fitted and here I am with a new device—well, two— fitted to my body.    My first reaction in the office was not wholly positive. My own voice sounded like I was talking through a microphone and I could hear the rush of something that turned out to be an air vent. Besides the high price (I chose not to join Costco), there was now that extra thing to keep track of, to re-charge every night, to be out $300 or $600 (deductible) if I lose it.    Yet about to go to a group lecture this weekend, to teach kids for three weeks in Toronto, to visit friends there probably in restaurants, it is time to give it a try. I rode my bike back from the appointment and sat in the park and there, some 200 yards away, was someone playing the piano in the park and I could hear every note clearly. I heard snippets of conversations as I biked past people. I heard the wind rushing past my ears.    But most astounding, I sat on a bench and was surrounded by bird song. High pitches, low pitches, middle pitches. Had I really missed that all these years? Perhaps that alone is worth the price of admission. And I could listen to my Audible story directly through the hearing aids. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.   However, now I’m at home and the clicking of the computer keys is annoying. Much worse, I played a little piano and it sounds a bit tinny. Not good. The doctor advised me to keep them in as much during the day as I can to get the brain accustomed to it and avoid constant adjustment and re-adjustment. But I think I need to draw the line at piano playing. Or get some advice on how to re-calibrate it.    So tonight my daughter is coming for dinner and let’s see what it’s like when I hear everything she and my wife have to say. Wish me luck!