Wasting Time on Hearing Loss?

Gael Hannan
January 5, 2016

People with hearing loss – have you ever considered the time you’ve been wasting?

If we no longer had hearing ‘issues’—if our hearing was suddenly and miraculously restored—what on earth would we do with all that extra time? How would we replace all those minutes and hours spent on the technology, rituals and emotions of hearing loss?

When I was a little girl, the doctors said there would never be a cure in my lifetime—very inspirational sorts, those doctors. But they also neglected to say, or perhaps couldn’t foresee, that technology and peer/professional support would improve my life to the point that every moment I spend on my hearing loss is worth it.

Hearing loss is one of the key shapers of my day; it’s there when I wake up and one of my last thoughts before sleep. Here’s an average day in the life of one hearing aid user who also has tinnitus.  (I don’t know if this time commitment will change once I receive my cochlear implant. But I do know that one CI friend spends a lot of time looking for her spare batteries.)

Upon Waking:

  • 1-2 minutes: Listening to see what tinnitus sounds are playing as my brain comes to life. Is it the tiny construction worker with the sledgehammer? The waterfall?  The hum of an orchestra tuning up?  A combination?  Then I think, “Yup, it’s still here, dammit, now get up!
  • 1 minute: Unscrewing top from my drying aid, pulling out the hearing aids (sometimes referred to as Billy and Bob), turning them on and inserting.  Alternatively, I insert them before turning on, but then I have to listen to the loud chimes that say, “Yo sister, Billy and Bob are ‘hear’ for ya!” I could probably accomplish this in under 60 seconds but this takes place in very early morning when fingers are bit sluggish.

During Day, Every Day:

  • Constant awareness of tinnitus. How to drill this down to actual minutes? I’m not a mathematician, but let’s assume that as I’m awake approximately 16 hours every day, tinnitus is present for all 16 hours but I give conscious thought to the sounds perhaps one fifth of that time, which comes out to 3 hours, 20 minutes. Sheesh, that’s a big chunk of time.
  • 2 minutes: Pushing hearing aids back in when they sometimes slide out of the ear canal a bit.
  • 30 seconds: Replacing hearing aid behind my ear if it flops out when I take off my reading glasses. This is embarrassing if someone else is the first to notice something bouncing in the air by my ear.
  • 1-2 minutes: Pushing button to change hearing aid program to telecoil for phone calls. This process can be shortened by using my Bluetooth neckloop which requires 20 seconds maximum for all phone calls—IF I’m wearing the neckloop.
  • 1 minute: Looking around the house for my Bluetooth neckloop.
  • 5-10 minutes (sometimes less, usually more): Asking people to repeat themselves—and then waiting for their response, which can take a while if they can’t remember.

Upon Retiring for the Night: 

  • 15 seconds: Taking hearing aids out and put in drying aid.
    Drying aid, as decorated by a 3 year-old

    Drying aid, as decorated by a 3 year-old

  • 30 seconds (later): Groping for drying kit, opening it up and reinserting hearing aids because the Hearing Husband asks me an important question just after I’ve taken them out.


  • 2-3 minutes: Changing hearing aid batteries.
  • 1 minute: Changing wax guards.
  • 5 minutes: Giving hearing aids a good cleaning. This takes less time if I haven’t lost the manufacturer’s cleaning supplies. Otherwise, I have to be inventive to get wax out of the air vent. What works well are the plastic wires attaching price tags and other labels to new clothes. (Remove the clothes first.)
  • 5-60 seconds: Turning the TV’s closed captioning back on after Hearing Husband has watched a sports event.
  • 8 hours (give or take a few): Writing, editing, and posting this blog.

And let’s not forget all that random time spent on hearing loss when we are traveling, on the job, shopping, working out or running around the house trying to figure out where that noise is coming from.

OK, I admit that if you add it all up, living with hearing loss doesn’t take that much time. But what about quality of the time? Most of us might classify the precious minutes and hours wasted on our hearing loss as poor, irritating, a nuisance, anxiety-inducing.

Or—we might also be grateful, especially for those moments of hearing and understanding such as this comment by Catherine Mellor, a friend who is still hearing new sounds several years after receiving a cochlear implant:  I fell asleep watching TV with my ears on and woke up hearing the liquid dropping sounds of rain.

Moments like that are no waste of time.

Billy and Bob having a 'thumbs up' chat

Billy and Bob having a ‘thumbs up’ chat

  1. Hearing loss use to be something we had to live with and in the 1950’s hearing aids made every sound loud. Today more seniors are losing their hearing and only the ones who recognize this disability are able to help themselves hear again. Even professional social workers who are suppose to help people ignore hearing loss. They are already want to blame it on dementia, age and everything but what the real problem is. I tried to tell them that about the personal assistive listing equipment like the PocketTalker Ultra and how it would help if they had one on them including a head set when speaking one on one to a senior who is losing their hearing. They accused me of trying to sell them. It is a sad world out there for seniors with hearing loss.

  2. It’s sad whether you are a a senior or not. No one except those who have it understand it, insurance does not help the cost. It’s ridiculous because they help with eye glasses but not hearing devices.

    1. If eye glasses cost as much as hearing aids, they would not cover it. Sad but true.

  3. Love Billy and Bob! My right aid is female, and the left is male. Go figure.
    I actually save some time by ignoring things that my husband says from down the hall, and save money by not going to noisy cafes/restaurants. But, then, I’m a “glass half full” kind of girl….

    1. Actually, Bob is a girl – short for Roberta, I think. Their full names are therefore William and Roberta Hannan.

  4. Oh Gael, you always make me giggle when I read your blogs. You might need to invest in another dry-aid kit now you are on the left coast! Your next set will have to be Doug and Bob a la McKenzie-truly Canadian 😉

Leave a Reply