My Mom’s Hearing
My mother’s name was Donna. She was great at softball player, could kick your butt in crib and baked the kind of buns that made you give up keto. Mom had a quick wit, a great sense of humour and could tell you the capital city and major export of any country in the world, even though she never got to travel beyond North America. Mom had 8 children. I was the last and it was a tough birth. Dad chose to name me after her. I was proud to be Little Donna – Mom tolerated being called Big Donna.
One of my earliest memories was taking phone calls for Mom – being her ‘go-between’. We would sit face-to-face on chairs in front of the phone. I would tell her what the caller said and she would give me a response to pass along. Eventually, Mom was fit with hearing aids. I remember laying in the front seat of the car with my head on her purse, sleeping on the drive up to Moose Jaw to see the audiologist. On the way home, I stayed awake because we could visit - she could hear me without looking at me. I was amazed.
Every year we would make the trip up to Moose Jaw for a hearing test and to have her hearing aids serviced. We generally managed to get our ‘city shop’ done that day as well – running around to stores to pick up items we didn’t have access to in our tiny town. When I was about 14 years old, I asked if I could stay and watch the audiologist for the rest of the day, rather than go shopping. Watching people smile and relax with their new hearing aids after years of not being able to comfortably communicate fascinated me. My future career was chosen.
I was able to fit Mom with one set of hearing aids during my brief time working as an audiologist in Saskatchewan, before moving to BC to practice. I was nervous about her appointment. Rightly so as during the test she stopped me to point out some smudges on the window of the sound booth.
Mom’s hearing deteriorated rapidly when she was in her fifties, in hindsight, possibly due to an undiagnosed autoimmune disorder. In her seventies, she received a cochlear implant. Sitting in the booth with Mom and Dad while the audiologist activated the implant processor was the only time I’d ever seen my dad cry. She did so well with her implant – her hearing was not returned to normal, but it was a miracle of science that she could hear at all.
Mom passed away during the COVID lockdown. I hadn’t seen her in well over a year. The day before she died, she called each of her kids. We had a good visit and the last words I heard from her were “love you”. I will always be grateful that, at the end, she was able to hear over the phone, even without her ‘go-between’.
Hear Inc. Hearing and Balance