No Greater Love…

i heart hearing aids

“This is all your fault!” I shouted at the spouse on the station steps, “If you hadn’t decided to get the same train as me this morning, I wouldn’t have forgotten to put my hearing aids in!

The spouse took a deep breath. Now was not the time for him to question the logic of this last statement.

“…Today of all days,” I ranted on, “I can’t be late for the assessments… and I need to hear what’s being said!”

“Do you want to go back and get them?” interjected the spouse rather sensibly. “We can just get a taxi into work instead.”

I hesitated slightly at the attractiveness of this proposition, but decided to take a more hormonally irrational approach.

“No.” I said, “I’ve managed to get by without the damn things for forty-odd years, and I bloody hate taxis.” A vibration on the metal steps underfoot spurred me into action. “Hurry up!” I snapped,  “we need to get tickets, I can hear the train coming…”

The spouse rolled his eyes as he watched a dustbin lorry rumble past. It didn’t sound anything like a train to him.

Half an hour later, as everyone gathered with their clipboards in the studio at work, my heart sank as I realised I couldn’t make out the pre-assessment chit-chat. I felt a pang of remorse and wished I’d listened to the spouse on the station steps instead of shouting at him. Why hadn’t I just gone back to get the bloody aids when I had the chance? What an idiot. This was going to be a very long day.

Just as the assessment proceedings were finally about to get underway, the studio door opened and the spouse appeared. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be hanging an exhibition in another building…I was confused. Heads turned as he strode in and handed me a tiny plastic snack box. I couldn’t believe it. This was either the smallest packed lunch of all time, or…

“My hearing aids!” I exclaimed, as I noisily snapped the box open in front of my curious colleagues, “Thanks Hun!”

Unbeknownst to me, the spouse had waved me off at the entrance to work and gone all the way back home to fetch my ear gear. Even after being shouted at.

If I hadn’t already married him, dear readers, I’d have decided to marry him on the spot.

“How very dare you, Sir!”


To have been erroneously issued one Senior Citizen’s Concession rail ticket at the tender age of 48 is unfortunate; to have been issued two in the one week by completely different Scotrail ticket staff is positively alarming. I’d like to think that both ticket men belonged in the British College of Optometrists comedy annals of Severe Visual Inadequacy, along with the man who ate his hearing aids thinking they were cashew nuts, but it rather looks like I could be needing a bigger makeover than I previously thought.

Bloody beige hearing aids ageing me prematurely, that’s what I say…

Fashion, body taboo style…

Fashion special mastheadDebora Dax Beer Belly Sweater

Above: Debora Dax Beer Belly Sweater and Cellulite Trousers image via Dezeen

Ever since unveiling my Age of Beige hearing aid stickers back in 2011, I’ve looked forward to the day when the fashion world would catch on to my radical Beige is the new Black concept, which shamelessly promotes NHS beige as the colour for those in the know.  When I saw the garment above, I thought that day had finally arrived, but it turns out that it’s actually part of a concept range based on female body image taboos.

Nevertheless, I like to think of the illustration above as the perfect fashion embodiment of how someone under the age of 50 feels on the walk back home from the hospital after a first NHS hearing aid fitting, and no one will persuade me otherwise.

Of course, a garment like this can’t be found on the high street, but for anyone out there who wants to join me at the beige neoprene cutting edge of NHS orthotic styling, there are a few more readily obtainable suggestions below…

ear gear beige   composite

Beige spray

How to end up having your hearing aids surgically removed

nutty hearing aid nibble

If you wear hearing aids and glasses, don’t leave your hearing aids near a bowl of nuts or you’re just asking for trouble, according to this recent article in the Telegraph. Apparently, the short sighted man in the story ate his hearing aids thinking they were cashews, and had to have emergency surgery to remove them from his stomach.

Presumably, two cashew nuts were removed from his ear canals at the same time…

When Santa could do with hearing aids…

creda cavalier cooker


Over Christmas, I was wondering when I first became aware of my propensity for mis-hearing things, when I suddenly remembered an early childhood incident. On that occasion, it was not my own hearing which was at fault, but that of the elderly Santa, upon whose knee I was excitedly perched, in a grotto in the middle of a Glasgow department store.

“So, little girl, what’s your name?” said Santa, before being seized by a sudden phlegmatic bout of coughing.

“Moira!” I replied with great enthusiasm. With three days to go until Christmas, I needed him to remember me.

“Eh?” said Santa, leaning a bit closer. His beard smelt of nylon and cigarettes.

After several repeats of my name, I was getting impatient, but eventually Santa seemed to have got the message.

“So, Moya, what would you like me to bring you for Christmas?”

I decided it was best not to antagonise Santa by correcting him on the name front.

“I’d like a scooter please Santa!”

“A cooker?” said Santa, a little incredulously. “That’s a very unusua…”

“No, not a cooker, a scooter! A red one!” I interrupted loudly.

I was getting slightly anxious now. I had to make Santa understand what I was asking for, since the last thing I wanted to wake up to on Christmas morning was a cooker. That special treat is reserved for when little girls are much older.

“A what?” said Santa, looking round to my mother for help. Unfortunately she had been abducted by the nearby shoe department and was busy eyeing up a purchase with four inch purple platform soles. Poor old Santa was on his own with my high pitched voice and confusing consonants. After several unsuccessful repeats, I was still in danger of getting a cooker, but this time a red one with wheels and a bell.

Finally, Santa looked at his watch, changed the subject and reached into his sack. I thought I was going to absolutely die with the suspense and did my best to suppress a little shiver of excitement. What was going to emerge from that sack? After another short bout of coughing brought on by the exertion, Santa handed me a very small parcel.

My heart sank. I was devastated. There was no way there was a scooter inside THAT.

“Thank you Santa”, I said politely, hoping that Santa’s elves might have overheard the earlier part of our discussion, and safely deliver me a red scooter with a bell on Christmas morning.

A Cautionary Christmas Tale

Ice swan

Hearing Aid Avenger pictured on top of his ladder seconds before disaster strikes

Moments after this stunning photograph was taken at the Govanhill Ice Carving Championships yesterday, a terrible double misfortune ended Hearing Aid Avenger’s chance of winning Gold in the Medical Devices and Prosthetics category (a triple misfortune, if you count the fact that he was the only entrant).

Just as he was putting the finishing touches to his daring and technically challenging re-interpretation of the traditional ice swan, an infuriating scenario occurred which will be very familiar to all hearing aid users; both Left and Right batteries ran out unexpectedly within minutes of each other, with no new ones to hand.

Keen not to interrupt his creative flow by going in search of batteries, he carried on smoothing a tiny imperfection on the swan’s neck, an imperfection which, ironically, not even the most eagle-eyed judge would have spotted. Unfortunately, with his batteries gone, he heard neither the final time up signal, nor the ominous creak which signalled that he was now dangerously overworking the ice.

He was immediately disqualified for carrying on after everyone else had finished, but worse was to come. An impatient official tapped him on the shoulder from behind to alert him to his disqualification, and Hearing Aid Avenger got such a fright that he accidentally snapped the weakened neck of his beautiful swan and sent it crashing to the ground. All that remained on the display pedestal was an ugly frozen blob, which local youths later used to smash the window of a local off licence shop in order to get at the Buckfast display.

So, dear readers, remember to pack those spare batteries over the holiday period and have a very merry Christmas!

Hearing Aids with Attitude

hearing aid tattoos

I can’t seem to find time to write anything these days, so here is a Photoshop version of my latest ongoing hearing aid pimping exercise instead. I can’t think of anything better than a nice tattoo to set off a pair of flesh coloured NHS hearing instruments, and I’m hoping they might intimidate those irritating people in shop queues who helpfully insist on poking you on the shoulder from behind, if you don’t move at the speed of Usain Bolt once a till becomes available.

It would appear that, for some people, the sight of hearing aids in a queue can bring out the same primitive instinct as the sight of a caravan ahead on the road; they become impatient to overtake even when the caravan is travelling at the same speed as all the other vehicles…



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