Other posts related to voices

I need MORE Power, Scotty!

Lincoln Adams | September 21, 2007 @ 3:12 pm

Hearing aid fittings seems to be more of an art than a science, evidently.

I noticed a clarity right away to the sounds I was hearing after being fitted with my new aids, but it’s possible these aids might be a bit underpowered for my degree of loss, so the audiologist wants to fit me with a more powerful version of the same aids next Friday.

My previous aids were very powerful, but failed to distinguish the most important sounds I really needed to hear, and while I was able to hear a broader range of sounds, I usually couldn’t make any sense of it. It was frustrating, especially in noisy situations, so I had basically given up on the idea that I could ever be able to intelligently talk to people outside the home and workplace.

With the new aids, despite being a bit underpowered (maybe), I was able to have conversations I hadn’t been able to have for years, and I was understanding speech far better than I ever used to, perhaps a little TOO well. Like with this coworker of mine, she just loves to talk, talk, talk, talktalktalktalk, and then when she’s not talking I’m betting she’s thinking about talking too. After hearing one of her usual 45 minute monologues, I was starting to think, maybe ignorance was bliss after all. :D

Digital hearing aids by the way are designed to continuously analyze and filter out background noises, while attempting to leave in the vocal sounds that we need to hear. I could tell my aids were doing the same thing, and the results could get weird at times. Sometimes a sound will be really loud, and then suddenly it will get soft or disappear altogether, the result of the processor deciding the sound was irrelevant and actively squelching it. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but the worst offense is when it comes to listening to music. It thinks just about everything I listen to is noise, and actively tries to suppress it all. The more I cranked up the volume, the more the aids cranked it down. Excuse me, but Steve Perry is NOT noise. :tongue:

Fortunately, there are musical programs or similar settings you can upload to the hearing aid’s memory banks to compensate for this, so when I try out the next set of hearing aids next week, I’ll see if I can have those implemented as well. I almost got into it with my audiologist last time though. He’s a good guy, but he is way too used to dealing with people 50 years older than me and adjusting hearing aids according to their typical needs. I was ready to tell the guy, “Look, I have a life, or at least I’m trying to. I need adjustments that will allow me to hear everything, including music and crickets and doorbells and the sweet, dewy sounds of beautiful women whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I don’t need you setting these things thinking the only important sound I’m ever gonna need to know is the voice of my doctor telling me when I’m gonna die, a’ight??”

Sheesh.

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Broken Wings of Love

Lincoln Adams | July 19, 2007 @ 8:55 pm

“Linkie?”

“Yeah, Karen?” Karen was a co-worker of mine who worked in our firearms division. I’ve had a thing for her ever since she started working here…that is, until she passed me up and married another co-worker last January. Of course.

“Do you know what band sang the song with the line ‘broken wings’ in it?” She then proceeded to hum the song, her cute face partly visible as she leaned over the cubicle wall that divided us.

“Hmmm, not sure, but I can Google the lyrics pretty quickly for you if you want. You can check to see which band rings a bell.”

“Is Mick around? Maybe he knows,” she said, completely ignoring my suggestion. Her hands were on top of the wall now, the shiny wedding ring on her finger gleaming in the light. I cursed inwardly.

But it wasn’t just the ring that annoyed me. I also HATED it when people would initially ask me for help, and then quickly dismiss me out of hand in favor of someone else. Don’t even give me a chance here to prove I’m not the idiot they think I am. Sheesh.

Dammit people, I’m a @#$%-ing human being. Can I not be afforded some modicum of respect at least?

“Sorry, Mick went on vacation. Let me look it up for you though, I’m sure I can find it. I’ll let you know.”

“Ok…” she said, and her head dropped out of sight. I could still hear her humming the song from beyond the wall.

I went to Google and found the lyrics to several songs containing the phrase “broken wings”, so I jumped up to call Karen over and have her take a look.

“Hey Karen,” I said, peering over the wall, “I got a few hits here and…”

But she was already gone.

I just stood there, marveling over how easily this woman could still hurt me, even now.

“Take these broken wings,
And learn to fly again,
And learn to live so free.
And when we hear the voices sing,
The book of love will open up,
And let us in….

Up yours Mister Mister.

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