Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Scenario: Woman with hearing impairment in the shower. Water running; bathing; washing of the hair; much singing. Yes, singing! Woman has found it’s the best place for vocal exercises: warm, moist air, solitude, sound of shower dampens outside sounds. Although in this case, the type of hearing impairment causes the speaking and singing voice to be resonated in the head completely, filling the consciousness with only that sound, creating a serene rehearsal space.

I am this woman.

This is, indeed, a serene moment. The spouse and children have left the premises for a promised couple of hours. There will be no one within striking distance who needs anything right now. Ahhhhhhhhh… Let us pause here and feel that sense of peace that comes with this knowledge of being…just being alone in the house; like the quiet after a storm…

Okay, now start singing. Do the warm up, the light vocalizations as you lather the skin. Begin the intervals as you rinse out the first shampoo. Remember to breathe--deep breaths! Increase volume as you progress into the melodic exercises, modulating up by half-steps each time. Scrub in the second shampoo.

AHHH!!!

“We’re home, we’re home” ::knockknockknock:: on the open door as he repeats “WE’RE HOME!”

“AHHH!!! You scared the heck out of me!!!”

“I just wanted to let you know.”

Never mind that I ignored the water going cool a moment earlier. That would have been ::THEM:: using the kitchen faucet.

This happens at least three times a week; more often, when the eldest son is in house (much to his chagrin). Not the shower surprise—no, if that were the case, it would have to be planned—and hey, I was talking about my child, don’t be thinking like that, oh! Tsk, tsk…

The hearing impairment is due to a perforation of the eardrum which didn’t heal closed from a severe infection two years ago (It’s healed, just not closed). Result: Serious reduction in volume from outside sources, with lack of clarity as a result of loss of high tones, which would be the range in which we hear consonants. Very disappointing, to say the least!

Now you know why, when I’m in a room, concentrating on a task, or banging pots and assorted utensils around in the kitchen, or near a running faucet, or actually, when any other device or person who is making another sound at the time, I either jump when I turn around and see you six inches from my face, as the first realization of your presence (son #1 hates that), or can’t understand a word coming from your lips.

Have you ever spoken with your parents, who are much older than you, or elderly folks, or others likely to have some sort of hearing loss (teenagers? heh-heh T1), and then later have a conversation with them where it becomes clear they don’t know what you’re talking about, making you feel hurt because you think, surely, what you had to say is worth their remembering it! yet it is plain to see they haven’t--? I know you have. It could be that they didn’t understand what you said the first time ‘round.

This blogging stuff is wonderful—the above written notion just occurred to me as I wrote. I think it's a valid consideration. Now, I just need to figure out what’s up with the B-WHAT! syndrome (But—We Haven’t Addressed That!). ‘Cos I know the entire household couldn’t have the hearing loss they exhibit. That’s right, that’s how we speak at home, very formal. Well, that’s all I could think up in the moment. Maybe you in the audience would share your more clever anagrams for this affliction?