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When I was young, we dreaded the visits of my Great-aunt Julia. She would sit on the sofa, prim and proper, with her orthopedic shoes flat on the floor, her heavy support hose camouflaging whatever part of her legs showed beneath her floral dress, her waist thickened under that dress because of the money belt she always wore, and her white hair wound in braids close to her head. We children would be expected to sit primly as well, politely attempting to hold a conversation with her while our mother prepared a meal. The conversation was made particularly difficult since Aunt Julia was fairly deaf. She wore a hearing aid, but her head would have to be turned just so towards the speaker. We would have to repeat ourselves frequently and wince at the screech of feedback when she would turn it up too far. Too bad Aunt Julia didn’t live long enough to appreciate the advances in hearing aids today. If she were looking today at the hearing aids South Yorkshire audiologists have available, she would be amazed. No longer would she have to tilt her head, as she might choose a programmable device with separate channels set to enhance different frequencies or the capability of amplifying soft sounds. If Aunt Julia was concerned about appearances (although the support hose might belie that notion), she would have quite the array of choices there, too. The hearing aids East Sussex doctors might prescribe could range from a traditional behind-the-ear instrument to a virtually invisible one deep inside the ear canal. Known as a “completely in the canal” (CIC) hearing aid, this instrument helps reduce the wearer’s impression of talking in a barrel. It would also have helped save the ears of us children, since using a CIC reduces that lovely squealing feedback noise. Yes, Aunt Julia would have been amazed and delighted at the advances she could have enjoyed in today’s hearing aids. Perhaps when I’m an elderly aunt myself, I can remember and be understanding with my great-nieces and –nephews. My hearing aids from my East Sussex doctor will be so subtle that my young relatives won’t even know I need them. This, of course, will give them less to laugh about. If I can just remember never to wear orthopedic shoes. . .
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