BioAid hearing aid app for iOS devices

BioAid screenshot on cookie bite setting

For anyone interested in the mysterious inner workings of hearing aid algorithms, this free BioAid app which transforms your smart phone or iPod/iPad into a hearing aid could be just the thing. The Open Source code behind it is also available for tinkering purposes, but count me out on that one since I don’t know my coding arse from my elbow.

Having had a quick play with BioAid on the spouse’s iPad this morning, I don’t think I’m going to be throwing away the wondrous Oticons just yet, but I’m quite interested in using it to try and get some understanding of how different hearing aid settings would operate in the background noise of the studio at work. Watch this space.

It will also come in very handy for listening at doors to check if a room is occupied. If I had a penny for every time I’ve forgetfully pressed my ear to a door and received a painful cranial embossing and a loud squeal of feedback from a hearing aid…

You can download BioAid and read about it here. There’s a 1, 2 and 1-2 kHz setting for Cookiebiters to play with.

via Hearing Aid Forums.com

The Return Of Auntie Mo

Festive Feedback 

Every time I hug someone to wish them a Merry Christmas, my hearing aids make an embarrassing squealing noise as our heads meet. Is there any way to prevent this?

The only way to prevent it is to thrust both arms rigidly out in front of you as the person approaches for a hug, and shout “Get off me! I’m wearing hearing aids!” This approach does have its limitations, however. At best you will be considered anti-social and, at worst, positively frightening. No, it is far better to accept the situation with humour. At the first signs of feedback during a festive embrace, pull away firmly and shout “Was that your hearing aids, HAHAHA!”

Other people always like to say that as a joke whenever there’s a funny noise, so it’s nice to have an opportunity to turn the tables.

Lipreading  blackout

My sister likes to have drinks and nibbles by the light of the log fire at Christmas, but I struggle to make out what people are saying in darkened rooms. I feel like such a party pooper when I ask for a light to be switched on. Have you any suggestions?

Carry some ball bearings with you in your handbag. Slip a few into the salted cashews when nobody’s looking, and those lights will go on without you even having to ask.

Pain in the ears

Over the festive period, my hearing aids frequently make me want to kill shrieking children and smash up their noisy electronic toys…is this normal?

Yes.

Telly Trouble

My family like to have the telly on in the background when we’re sitting around talking, but I find it hard to concentrate on what’s being said. When I ask if they can turn it off, someone always says “But I thought your said your hearing wasn’t that good…it’s not as if the telly’s that loud.” 

How can I make them understand?

Don’t bother. Just ask for the subtitles to be turned on, and watch that telly being switched off immediately. People with normal hearing can’t seem to tolerate a telly with the subtitles on.

Auntie Mo will be back some time next year. You can find more of her unique problem solving solutions here

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

“You’ve really captured the Easter Bunny’s expression there”, I said, after BatteryBot proudly showed me these snowmen, which he explained were built in the likeness of he and his best pal.

“…Maybe you could use this photo to wish your readers a Happy Christmas,” he suggested. “Both of them are very loyal, they deserve something a bit more cheery than…”

“Okay, okay, I get the message”, I said, hitting the ‘Cancel’ button on the post I was just about to publish. It was entitled ‘Christmas Earwax Special: 10 things every hearing aid wearer should know‘. Extensive personal research had gone into its production, and I had been particularly proud of the Fantastic Voyage-inspired visual journey beyond the second bend of the ear canal. Still, I supposed I could save it for Easter or something since earwax is such a timeless subject.

“Howzat?” I said, as I uploaded the cute snowmen and hit the ‘Preview’ button.

“Can you put some holly on it?” asked BatteryBot.

Hat Couture

It was the end of term Christmas Quiz party yesterday and BatteryBot had made me this charming pair of hearing aid Santa hats, to get me in a suitably festive mood for the occasion.

I must say they came in very useful when it came to the Christmas Wrapping Round, where the challenge was to wrap a willing team member with whatever materials were to hand. My colleagues enthusiastically swathed me in a dusty old sheet and some cellophane, and topped it off with a big feather plume stuck down my cleavage. The finishing touch involved wrapping my head with a large sheet of gold tissue paper, a process which took some time without the assistance of sticky tape, and proved to be very noisy despite the sound baffling qualities of my Santa hats.

As I waddled precariously to the stage looking like a post-Apocalypse version of the Statue of Liberty, I was told I looked uncharacteristically glamorous…

No Wax

Ahhhhhh, that’s better. My right ear is now open for business after Tuesday’s dramatic ear irrigation, which saw something the size, colour and consistency of a withered sultana shoot from the cookiebite ear canal into the nurse’s waiting metal receptacle.

Readers will be delighted to know that, unlike last time, I managed not to behave in a completely undignified manner while my ear was pummelled by the pulsed water jet. Instead, I adopted a pained grimace of stoicism, which I relaxed only once to shout a shaky “WHOA…OOA…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” as the wax plug finally came loose.

As you can see from my before and after thresholds below from the Equal Loudness site, there has been a dramatic increase in hearing after irrigation. It more than makes up for the shock of seeing what came out of my lughole…

Even Mo’ Wax

Oh dear. It’s now day 12 of my wax busting regime, and this time the oil in the ear hasn’t managed to clear it. It’s managed to soften it up though; just enough for the right hearing aid dome to act as a very efficient wax compaction plunger. Perfect for sealing off the ear canal completely to all but the loudest sounds in the mid-frequencies…like the circular saw ripping through piles of wood, in the room next door to the one I was running a student workshop in yesterday. Bah.

Fortunately, I have an appointment with the ear irrigation apparatus in T minus 2 hours and counting. Let’s hope that it works, I’ve been tapped on the shoulder so many times this last week, I’m beginning to feel like a typewriter…

Mo’ Wax

Hearing Aid Avenger tests his prototype Waxbuster gun on a candle. He told me the hearing aid dome on the end would protect my ear canal, but I wasn’t convinced.

 

At the end of last week, I emerged from the shower to discover that my right ear was no longer picking up sounds from the outside world. Strangely, it was picking up sounds from inside my head just fine, but who wants to hear the base of their skull grinding on their spinal column first thing in the morning.

A quick hearing test on the piano, whilst still wrapped in a wet towel and with a finger in one ear, revealed that an octave in the middle of the cookie bite zone was now completely missing, and that everything else sounded very far away indeed. A Google search on the matter of clogged ears and showers indicated that waterlogged earwax was the likely culprit, and I groaned at the thought of another protracted round of oil in the lughole every night to get rid of it.

I groaned even louder when I phoned my GP practice to see if I could pre-book an appointment with the nurse in five days time, so that I could do the oil routine then get my ear syringed if necessary, on the only day I can get time off work in the next couple of weeks.

“We like you to try to clear it yourself with oil, first”, came the reply. ” Only if you haven’t managed to clear it, can you phone to ask for an appointment. We can’t pre-book.” It seemed my window of waxbusting opportunity had just closed.

To everyone I’ve inadvertently ignored over the last few days, sorry, but it ain’t over yet…

Pocket Rockets

Last week’s field trip to a remote lochside youth hostel with the students came with an invitation to a Space themed party in the evening. As I considered my wilderness fancy dress options, I realised that packing a suitable costume into my already overstuffed rucksack was going to be tricky. Disappointingly, it looked like the scene-stealing silver spandex all-in-one body stocking was off.

After much deliberation, I settled for something slightly more compact and befitting of my age and status: a pair of silver spandex hearing aid rocket costumes. Not only could they be carried in my pocket, they came with the added bonus of knowing that no one else at the party could possibly come in an identical outfit.

Admiring comments on the night ranged from “Hey – I think your hair’s on fire!” to “Why have you got flames coming out of your ears?” In contrast, the weary hikers who had the misfortune of sharing the youth hostel with us that night, were simply speechless…

A Bad Lipreading Of The First 2012 Presidential Debate

 

Political debate can be engaging after all. Crank the volume up, turn the subtitles on and enjoy.

via The Limping Chicken

Forgoticons

It has been a bad week. For anyone, including the alarmed passer-by, who witnessed the swearing woman rooted to the spot at a street corner after touching one ear on Friday morning, I would like to announce that there is an explanation.

Since it is not the first time the scenario has happened, I feel it is now worthy of some definitions:

1. Lugstruck temporary state of paralysis induced by the realisation that your hearing aids are on the bedside table and not on your ears, as you’re running to catch a train or bus. The distance you are likely to cover before this realisation occurs is annoyingly governed by the equation: amount of pressure you are under to get to where you need to go, divided by degree of hearing loss. I seem to be able to get furthest on days where I cannot afford to be late.

2. Pessoptimism loop temporary fluctuating state of belief that you don’t need to hear anything today anyway, and that the 08:32 train will be leaving the station with you on board. Then reality dawns.

3. Hearing aid hotfoot ungainly sprint back to base to connect hearing aids to ears.

4. Delaid hearing aid related lateness, resulting from all of the above.