Down the Tubes Productions

We have a running list – currently 50+ items – of commonalities, coincidences, similarities, and links to one another that we have uncovered over the past 8 months. We should no longer be surprised at the unveiling of another through-line tying us together, but the discovery that two of our individual friends were former colleagues and good friends with each other warranted a dropped jaw reaction! The jaw dropped further with the revelation that both of these people were also hard of hearing and wore hearing aids. Immediately, introductions were made, lunch plans were proposed, and as a result of the magical collaboration of 3 teachers and1 librarian on a text chain – a date, time, and location were set for a lunch gathering a few weeks hence.

For those that know me well, I have an active (and what Brad would term as relentless) social calendar. I am a very social creature as evidenced by my gregarious and engaging personality, but I think it would surprise people to realize that the reason I consistently fill in the spots on my dance card is due to my hearing loss. My hearing continues to decline at an unpredictable rate. My most recent audiogram showed a negligible loss, but the fact remains that my hearing is going off a cliff. I am already plagued with the absence of high frequency sounds and conversational speech clarity continues to wane, directly impacting my ability to follow conversations in loud environments with background noise.  Nevertheless, I remain steadfast in my determination to experience as many concerts, plays, musicals, movies, sporting events, and game nights with friends as I can possibly manage. I want to commit to memory the voices of those I love the most to have in my mind when my world goes silent. I am hell bent on fitting it all in before my hearing exits stage left. 

As the days fell from the calendar, and our lunch date loomed larger, I was shocked that for someone that is instantly comfortable in social situations and relishes meeting new people, I was nervous about this lunch. I was flooded with social anxiety and rising panic about what it would be like to be with others that have experienced the same challenges I have with regards to my hearing loss. The fact that I am very close to 2 of the 3 people that we were dining with provided little comfort. I was shocked at these new feelings of social hesitation, but remained steadfast in my commitment to attending this lunch, no matter the feelings of trepidation.  

Upon arrival at the restaurant, we made our acquaintances and entered the dining area. I was thrilled that I was not the lead voice in asking the restaurant staff for accommodations including table size and placement. We all required similar adjustments to ensure a successful outing, and it was a new sensation for me to not have to feel like my need for accommodation was impacting everyone else’s enjoyment of the restaurant experience. 

We opted for a diamond shaped table as opposed to a booth which made both hearing and speech reading one another much easier. A booth set-up can create difficulties because it is not as easy to see one another “head on”, and the need to pivot and angle our bodies while sitting in a booth to follow a conversation is uncomfortable and draining.

As we selected seats, there was a jockeying for position to ensure that each of us was in the best spot for what we needed to maximize our ability to hear one another. I was fortunate to be seated with my back to the wall, which is a preferred seat when I am able to arrange it, because the wall absorbs incoming sound and minimizes the ever present, ever challenging, and ever annoying background noise. My left ear is relatively stronger (a laughable statement at this point), so Brad was seated on my left side. I am familiar with his voice and cadence of speech and knew that I could turn to him for a translation “back up” if I was having a hard time catching something that was being said at the table.

My friend was directly across the table from me, which was perfect because I know her voice and speech cadence well enough that a little more distance was fine. The new person was seated to my right side, which allowed me to comfortably turn towards him when he spoke and give my full attention to enjoying conversation with him while simultaneously learning his voice cadence. 

As we settled in, the conversation flowed seamlessly, and to my relief it was not dominated by hearing loss and hearing aid topics. Our steady stream of chatter interrupted our ability to place our orders with our patient server. 

I enjoy socializing with friends in restaurants and bars, but these environments are a minefield of challenges to navigate with my hearing loss. I need to manage large spaces with echoing acoustics, streams of chatter from fellow patrons, piped in music, and background noise ranging from clinking utensils to chairs scraping across the floor. All of these factors force me into “self-advocacy overdrive” and require me to request my companions to repeat/rephrase dialogue multiple times during a single outing which quickly becomes exhausting. There was an unexpected bliss being with fellow hearing aid users because we all needed repetition or clarification on more than one occasion. I never felt that I was placing an undue burden on anyone at the table when I asked for something to be rephrased or restated.  We all instinctively faced one another when we spoke to ensure maximum ability to lip read and gain context from facial expressions, body positioning, and non-verbal cues. I loved when a gentle check-in was uttered from one to another to ensure that we heard what was said in a way that was kind and supportive, not assumptive or patronizing. 

The afternoon sped by quickly, and as our visit came to its natural conclusion, we all rose with declarations of enjoyment and promises to connect again in the coming months. I left with a smile on my face and the warmth of camaraderie with friends both old and new. I was able to finally take a deep exhale and be fully present, for the first time in all of my life, in a public social setting thanks to my new willingness to embrace others that wear hearing aids.