Say What? I Can't Hear You.

That's exactly what I said to my husband, as I blissfully placed myself in a somewhat quieter world of my own. How did I do that? Ear plugs! (Yep, ear plugs seem to be a popular topic for me these days. It's abundant at my university!)

It was an assignment for my aural rehabilitation class. My lecturer gave us students ear plugs and asked us to go back and try wearing the ear plugs at different environments to experience having some level of hearing loss.

It was the day that me and my husband moved in to our new place (I will remember that day for the rest of my life - it was embarrassing and pretty stupid actually, but that incident shall not be elaborated here). I realized that once I open the tap water at the sink, it's pretty noisy! And also annoying. So I thought it was the perfect time to put on my ear plugs. I did just that and cleaned the pots and pans that we got for free that day. Naturally, I felt that my ears are blocked, but I ignored that feeling and focused on the comfort of the noisy sink being somewhat reduced. At the same time, I was cooking something as well, which required me to turn on the overhead fan. Obviously, that's noise as well. So the earplugs was really handy at that moment of time, and I was appreciating it for the wrong reason than what I was set out for. Not to piss my husband off, I eventually told him I had the plugs on, and he didn't bother to talk to me after that. After a good 40 minutes (yes, the washing took that long), I felt that the blocked feeling was too much, so I took the plugs out. Definitely no lesson learned from that.

I tried again the next day, putting both plugs on my way to officeworks, a stationary shop. Again, I enjoyed the somewhat reduced environmental noise (mostly the sounds of trams). But the sounds of my footsteps were really obvious to me. My husband talked to me, and I had to strain myself to listen to him. Again, he didn't talk much when I had to point out that I had the earplugs in again. When I reached the shop, I went to the counter to ask to do some printing. I actually asked my husband to lead the conversation, but when he looked stuck, I jumped in, and both of them looked at me puzzled. I think I did not answer what the counter guy asked, but I just said what I needed and he did just that. So that wasn't too bad. I then went around the shop looking for a pen, and another shop assistant came to me, asking whether I needed any assistance. I didn't hear him clearly but I could make out that was what he asked, and I answered appropriately. At that moment, I realized that is how it is when people say they miss out parts of conversations and do a learnt guess (I think there's another term for it). Learnt guess by means that you can guess what a person would say at a particular situation as it is expected that the person would say so. That's why people with slight hearing impairment would insist they can still hear, because of that particular adaptation strategy. But when I went back to the counter to make payment, I already took out the plugs because I think it was already about 40 minutes and obviously I couldn't stand the blocked feeling, and I didn't want to risk the possibility of miscommunication with the cashier! I went back home feeling slightly guilty.

I think my husband wouldn't be so mad at me if I made such a cute face like this boy 

My third and last attempt wearing the plugs: I wore only on one side, this time to the Victoria Market. The blocked feeling was not so bad, and I could still hear my husband talk clearly, especially when he's on the side not blocked (obviously). However, upon reaching the market, as I was about to make my first purchase, after just one question from the fish guy, I immediately took out my plug. I have to say, it was a market, and it was pretty noisy. With that plug inside my ear, I was definitely struggling. But as I continued on with my shopping with my normal hearing, I felt kind of bad, and guilty, because I've been telling people that I know what they're experiencing, and counseling them on strategies to adapt, but when it was my turn to experience it, I couldn't even handle it. At least I could take out the ear plugs, but what of those with permanent hearing loss? They can't simply take out their ears and replace with a good one now, can they? :(

Definitely a good lesson, and made me appreciate my hearing much much more. Hopefully I'll remember this the next time I'm counseling a patient. We may "experience" it, but we can never truly be in a hearing-impaired person's shoes, as everyone is unique and has different problems/situations. I think as long as you are sincere in helping these people, they'll know that it's coming from your heart :)