Can You Hear Me Now?
"What did you say?" said my husband. "You think I need to get my meerkat net?"
"No. I said, 'I think you need to get your hearing checked!'" I sighed.
"My hearing is fine," he argued. "You were mumbling."
I shook my head. I am not a mumbler. Nor am I a soft talker or a dog whisperer. If anything, I'm typically whisper-challenged, which is why I knew the issue was my husband, not me.
"Just go to the audiologist," I said.
"Why do I need an archeologist?" he wondered.
I just stared at him and then left the room, muttering under my breath. Now if he didn't hear me at least there was good reason.
I, myself, had recently been diagnosed with an issue called "hidden hearing loss," which is really just a problem hearing conversation in a crowded room. On a side note, I also suffered from "silent reflux" and "phantom knee pain," so apparently, all my problems were secret ones. My husband, however, had a hard time hearing me clearly all the time. It was pretty obvious, at least to me, that there was nothing phantom about his hearing issues, although he may have had some not-so-hidden denial about it.
"I hear everything I need to hear," he said
"So, you have selective hearing loss," I said.