moses and starfish

His name is Moses. He’s adorable, sweet and loving. The first CTT heart he stole belonged to Team 3 member Kaley. That was back in 2009.

Kaley noticed that Moses couldn’t hear very well. She taught him how to sign the alphabet. They hung close whenever the team was at the orphanage. When we left Uganda, Moses gave Kaley some rubber bands so that she would not forget him. He had been wearing them on his wrist and wanted her to do the same when she went back to the US.

We’ve learned a lot about Moses since that trip. All of our hearts have been stolen by him now.

Team 4 member Avis began the process of teaching him sign language this past December. He was like a sponge. He soaked it up. He memorized the books she brought with her, then wanted more.

Moses has some very devoted buddies, each of whom looks out for him and makes sure he is able to make his way through the day in spite of his rapidly progressing hearing loss. Antwain and Francis have got his back. It would warm your heart to watch the boys together. It certainly cooked mine.

Recently CTT Liaison Melissa took Moses into Kampala for a complete hearing exam. Probably his first ever. He didn’t fare so well. The audiologist reported that Moses borders between significantly and profoundly deaf.

Meanwhile, a woman from Amsterdam stepped into the picture. Her name is Monique, and she is planning to go to the orphanage as a CTT volunteer this summer. She read about Moses on my blog and emailed me immediately. Turns out she has a friend who runs a hearing aid shop. His name is Gerben, and he wants to donate a set of hearing aids to Moses. Seems that when a customer dies, the hearing aids he/she wore make their way back to the shop. He just happened to have such a pair that would be perfect for Moses.

After a bunch of emails between Gerben, Monique, Melissa and me, it is now official:

Moses will get the chance to hear. The Oticon hearing aids are now on their way from Amsterdam to Uganda.

Remember the story about the starfish on the beach? The one about a man walking along the beach and noticing 
a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean?

Approaching the boy, he asked, "What are you doing?" The boy replied, "Throwing starfish back into the ocean. 
The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die." “Son,” the man said. "Don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? 
You can’t possibly make a difference!" After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish 
and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said, ”
I made a difference for that one.”

Yes we did.

hearing aids revisited

My phone started ringing and emails began arriving soon after my June 9 post about hearing aids.

“My, um, FRIEND sure could use one. What company makes that really cool one with the Bluetooth connection?” “My elderly father can’t stand his old hearing aid and refuses to wear it anymore, should we check into one of these groovy new ones?” Or… “You know, it’s true, I do seem to turn the TV up really loud now, and going to a crowded restaurant for dinner on a Saturday night, well, forget it.”

Too bad I’m not getting a commission from the company that makes these cool devices, although my audiologist did get a huge kick out of my post and said he was going to show it to the sales rep. The company is called OTICON. They make several models, but the one that I am sporting is called EPOQ and it just came on the market the end of May (like the day before I got mine, thus making me the first person in Kansas City to have one!) I am really pleased with the way they work, the way they look and the way I can hear now. (Warning: they are expensive.)

But here’s the burning question everyone kind of danced around: Gloria, did you get that, um, big blue fish hearing aid or was that just an illustration of what’s available and you know, if you did get that big blue fish one, that’d be cool, if you really want to make a statement about yourself or whatever.

Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t get the fish.

My “personal communication assistant” is not even aquamarine or sunset gold.

Here’s what it looks like.




The first picture, expertly taken by Eddie, shows pretty much what it DOESN’T look like – that is, my hair covers up the amplifier that sits on the back of my ear. The only thing you might possibly see is the little piece of clear tubing that runs into my ear canal. The second photo, also expertly taken by Eddie, features me pulling my hair up and out of the way to reveal the said “hearing assistive device.” (I haven’t quite decided yet which high tech, boomer-esque, soft sell term for hearing aid I prefer.)

Now, if you are interested in reading more, by all means check out this article from yesterday’s New York Times (Fashion and Style section, by the way). It’s chock full of interesting information. Thanks, Linda, for sending it my way.

WHAT’D YOU SAY?

this is not your grandmother’s hearing aid

My audiologist and I have been watching my hearing test results closely for more than ten years now. They are starting to look not so pretty.

No surprise. My mother and grandfather both suffered from hearing loss. Throughout the seventies I attended more than my fair share of very loud rock ‘n roll concerts, occasions where I’d flash my press badge and end up standing excitingly close to the stage and those huge, pulsating speakers. I have always relished settling in with a new album or CD in a comfy chair with headsets on, new music happily blaring away. And, oh yes, I am over fifty. Every year after fifty, we lose one-half of one percent of our hearing.

Throw in noise pollution, which has increased by leaps and bounds over the past few decades, and, well, here we are.

So when I got the news that my numbers have now officially dipped into the “hearing aid zone” I marched bravely into the office to try one on. Nowadays, they call it “test driving” – that is, you can be fitted for a device and see what you think, or maybe I should say hear. After four weeks, if you hate it, you can return it.

The industry probably couldn’t wait for baby boomers to hit this phase of life. No longer are the products bulky and unattractive. Now they come in small sizes, trendy shapes and all sorts of sexy colors. In fact, thanks to the age of IPODS and ear buds, some people who don’t even HAVE a hearing loss are opting for these things because they actually can make life a little easier. The one I’m trying out, for example, can be hooked up to a bluetooth phone, meaning that I wouldn’t need to actually pick up the phone when it rings – just push a button on the little IPOD looking device I’d wear on my person somewhere, and I could have a conversation right through my hearing device. Once televisions become bluetooth accessible, the same will be true there. The sound system would be fed directly to my cute, colorful, and don’t-you-wish-YOU-had-one hearing device!

And the advances in digital technologies mean these puppies can now do much more than simply amplify sound. Directional microphones can be fine tuned to zero in on specific frequencies coming from specific directions, or to cancel persistent background noise such as fans or traffic. There’s even a model that allows you to replay the last ten seconds of conversation, just in case you missed someone’s name. As I said, not your grandmother’s hearing aid.


Apparently, it’s cool now to wear a hearing aid. Who knew? Just as coke bottle glasses have been transformed into glam, stylin’ fashion accessories, the type that everyone wants to have on their face, hearing aids will soon be the next “have to have” item. Some are being made to resemble earrings or pendants. For kids, there are slipcovers that fit over their device – making them look like little dinosaurs or rainbows.

Disappearing is the stigma of wearing a hearing aid. Apparently, there is a huge percentage of the population that could benefit greatly from one, but refuse to go there – a deep and untapped market, wouldn’t you say? Even the names and the faces behind the industry are starting to scream coolness. One company is called “Pulse.” And Huey Lewis looks pretty hunky sporting his salmon colored “assistive device” for the company that pays him to be its spokesperson. His device is very small and comes in an array of sleek, colorful designs.

Basically, I just want to stop uttering the question “what?” and be able to fully appreciate what someone is saying to me, especially if we’re in a room full of people who are all talking at the same time.

I guess if I can look good doing it, that’s pretty amazing.