When people with hearing loss turn out the lights at night, what comes next? All sorts of things, but usually not more conversation.
One of our fundamental truths: the better the lighting, the better we communicate. During the day, there is light. During the dark hours, we turn on the lights. But at bedtime, when the lights, hearing aids and cochlear sound processors all go off, conversation comes to a halt.
So much for the joys of pillow talk, which is unfortunately because apparently couples who talk in bed have happier relationships, probably due to the proximity in warm blankets.
But there’s no rule that the lights must be off for good pillow talk, right? When the lights are out, the Hearing Husband and I can’t have a meaningful conversation, or any conversation. I can’t hear him or see his face although I know it’s there. I could try patting his face but might hit him on the nose. Years ago, because I wanted us to be in the category of ‘happier relationships’, I suggested glow-in-the-dark lipstick to help with the lipreading, but he’d rather risk a broken nose than wear the stuff.
I could leave in my hearing aids, but in the dark, no matter how he bellowed his words, there are words I’m just not going to ‘get’. Maybe we could pretend we’re talking and simply recite stuff. I could do poetry, and he could do baseball stats, which can’t be any more boring in the dark than they are in the light.
I do admit being envious of people who can lie together in bed in the dark and chat easily, intimately. How nice to start yakking as soon as they wake up, without waiting while somebody grabs their hearing device to get connected.
But we’ve got a workable system going now. Before the lights go out, we say whatever needs to be said. Then:
Gael: Ok, we done now?
Doug: Yeah, I think so.
Both: OK, g’night.
I take off my devices and we turn out the lights and although what comes next is none of your business, it’s usually sleep.
But just because we can’t communicate well in the dark, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, if it’s necessary. Occasionally I get a tap on my shoulder. I turn on the light, grumble what? and then lipread the urgent message he feels I need to receive. To avoid fully emerging from the sleep-state, the soft light of a cellphone is often enough for the exchange. And if the message is did you prep the coffee, there will be more words, not of a loving nature.
Although pillow talk in our family may be different than that of other couples, it works for us.
