Chris Pascoe’s Fun Tales

Chris’s additional communication difficulties continue… but relief is at hand

Carrying on from last week’s column, after failing to convince my local hospital to syringe my ears before they were ready to be syringed, I found myself facing another week of almost total deafness. After initial household anger at my lack of hearing – and I quote my teenage daughter Maya here, “IF YOU CAN’T HEAR, THEN DON’T SPEAK!” – both humans and pets became used to my situation and began taking advantage of it.

Maya would claim to have definitely received a “yes” to her chocolate bar request when I could have sworn she’d asked if I’d like a coffee.

My wife Lorraine could chat on the phone about my shortcomings while I sat smiling benignly, wondering why Maya was taking so long with the coffee. Jojo the cat suddenly started jumping at me from all angles, in much the way Cato attacked Clouseau in the PinkPanther movies, delighted by my inability to hear her un-ninja-like approaches.

Meanwhile, Barry from a few doors down discovered my condition in the most ridiculous of circumstances. Emerging from our cars at the same moment, we shouted our hellos. Then Barry shouted again.

“I can’t hear you, I’ve gone

Jojo began jumping at me in the way Cato attacked Clouseau

deaf!” I bellowed, pointing at my ears. Barry seemed to understand as he responded by pointing at his own ears… but then he yelled again. “No,” I shouted, “I’m deaf!” With that Barry shouted something else and began walking towards me. I walked towards him. As we reached one another, both still shouting, I realised Barry was trying to tell me that he’d gone deaf. It turned out he’d had the same ear infection, and was also smuggling olive oil within his auditory canal. We laughed in mutual understanding, each said something the other didn’t hear, and went on our way.

Then, on Tuesday, the most wonderful thing happened. I went to the ear clinic, carefully on the lookout for enraged ambulance drivers and, after a brief inspection, was deemed all clear to have pints of water shot into both ears. As the water seeped away, I sat up unsteadily, and suddenly became aware of all sorts of weird sounds – the sounds of everyday life. I could hear!

“IS THAT OK?” said the nurse, her voice sounding like a cannon going off two feet from my right ear.

“Yes,” I whispered, wondering how I’d never realised the world was such a loud place. I could even hear a clock ticking. It was fantastic!

Off I went on my catsitting rounds, in a state of near ecstasy. It proved a strange, very loud day. One cat mewed behind me and I almost jumped six feet over the sofa. Another hissed and I went looking for a gas leak.

Maybe the best part, though, was arriving home and hearing my daughter tell her friend that I’m a “good dad”. She wouldn’t have said that in a million years if she’d known I could hear her…