I have a small bone to pick with people who can hear well. It’s not that I begrudge them their hearing—but do they have to be so show-offy about it?
These people let you know when they hear a pin drop. They can understand what’s being said way over there. They can understand speech in noisy situations—on a roller coaster, for example. And that’s all very nice but why do they need to ask me—a certified HoH (hard of hearing person), the crowned Queen of Pardon?—if I hear that itty-bitty chickadee on top of that tree half a mile away. Why even bother excusing themselves for a burp? There’s no way I would hear what must be all of 15 decibels, hardly a Richter-scale vibration.
In those moments, in the grip of a secret fit of hearing-envy, I have to remind myself, who really wants to hear all that stuff? Pretty birdsong is one thing, but when it comes to indelicate sounds, people with high frequency hearing loss