I called my mother on Saturday, and as usual nowadays, she couldn’t really hear me. She misplaced her hearing aids while in rehab earlier this year, probably the third or fourth pair she has lost. Pity, because these were very advanced and expensive ones, probably costing $5,000.
But really, they provided only limited help. Her hearing, like my own, has declined to a point where hearing aids can’t do much to correct the problem.
Mom mentioned something annoying one of her caregivers had done. I said, “Was it Alejandra?”
“What?” Mom said.
“Was the caregiver Alejandra?”
She said, “I heard you say, ‘Was there a salamander?”
I can laugh because the joke’s on me, too. I have worn hearing aids since I had a disabling double ear infection in my twenties. The problem is getting worse in my sixties. In supermarkets and coffeehouses, and I can’t hear a word the cashier or barista says from three feet away.
I keep turning up the volume on my hearing aids, but that doesn’t clarify the buzzy noises the devices deliver. Audiologists and otolaryngologists have recommended that I get a cochlear implant, a matter I am exploring. (An implant probably wouldn’t help my mom, since she’s 89, a time when it is difficult to retrain the brain for an entirely different way of hearing.)
My wife, younger son Lev, and I occasionally add to a list of my ridiculous misunderstandings:
CBS NEWS: A university today removed a divisive symbol…
RUSSELL: A device that’s sinful? Well, I should hope so.
NONNA: A divisive symbol.
RUSSELL: Oh. Well, good on them!
And there was this:
NONNA: I lost a pound and a half.
RUSSELL: You lost and found a cat?
NONNA: A pound and a half.
ENTIRE FAMILY: Hahahahaha!
LEV: Write it down, Mom!
When I spoke to my mother, she sounded sad and frustrated. Finally, I had her hand the phone to my mentally disabled brother Jeff, who lives with her. I asked him to translate the conversation.
“Tell Mom I had an MRI today for a cochlear implant. You remember MRIs Jeff? You’ve had a lot of them.”
For some reason Jeff exploded in laughter. “Yeah.”
“Tell mom.”
Speaking slowly to help her understand, he said, “Russ. Had. An. MRI.” She responded indistinctly from across the room.
“Do you feel claustrophobic when you get an MRI?” I asked Jeff. “Is it scary to be in the stuck in the tube?”
He kept laughing and laughing.
I told him, “I felt like a big burrito.”
Jeff called to Mom, “Russ. Felt. Like. A. Burrito.”
“What about a greedo?” she said.
Still, he proved an able interpreter, and she replied at length to several of my comments. I thanked Jeff for his help.
He said, “She doesn’t hear me very well, either.”
I suppose Mom should get new hearing aids, but even at Costco, a less technologically advanced pair would set her back $1,500. They’re not something you can lose and replace every few months.
I guess I’ll just keep writing her letters.
The Elephant Box 