Starts with K

For more years than I’d like to admit, my hearing has been the source of a mixture of amusement and frustration.

I can remember laughing at my maternal grandmother’s interpretation of what someone said – and missing it by a mile. Every visit to California brought new stories for my mom, sister and me to laugh about.

Then it was our mother’s turn. Her hearing, too, grew worse and worse. She eventually caved and got hearing aids, but didn’t wear them often, “to save on batteries.” It was not helpful.

My sister and I realized we would likely be next; this hearing loss seemed particularly aimed at females in the family.

The shot across the bow came when I was pretty young – not yet 40, if I recall.

I was a reporter in a busy newsroom when a scanner transmission caught my attention.

“Meet me at the murder scene,” an officer requested, then repeated it a few seconds later.

My desk chair was still spinning as I grabbed my notebook and the portable police scanner, then called to a photographer sitting across the room.

“Get your stuff!” I yelled. “There’s a murder; I’m waiting for an address!”

About 10 faces turned my way, with a variety of expressions – none of which seemed appropriately urgent.

Apparently, there was no murder scene; instead, the officers were planning to meet at the Burger King.

There are waaaay too many other examples of my hearing loss; the most recent when my husband and I were flying to the east coast.

As a flight attendant made her way down the aisle, my husband looked first at her, then at me, and said something.

“Water,” I told him, in response to his question about what she had with her.

He stared at me, blinked a couple of times, then repeated himself.

“What time is it?”

Oh.

The hearing loss is why I often sit in the front row of meetings or other gatherings, just to make sure I catch everything. I often stay after to clarify, if I believe I may have misheard.

If city officials are soft-spoken – I’m looking at you, Blooming Prairie City Council – I have asked if I can put a recorder at their table, to make certain.

But missing a full comment or needing to double-check later is honestly the least of my worries.

If you read publisher Rick Bussler’s column last week, you may have learned that board games (and puzzles, too, by the way) can help stave off dementia.

But he told me something else, something that wasn’t in his column:

There is a connection between hearing loss and dementia, specifically, Alzheimer’s disease.

My grandmother – the one who didn’t hear well – died of Alzheimer’s.

My mother died of cancer in her 70s, but might she have developed dementia?

Multiple studies have reached the same conclusion: mid-life hearing loss increases the risk of developing dementia by double any other factor.

The mechanisms responsible for the link are still unknown, but there is a growing body of research that suggests that those who use hearing aids maintain better cognitive function over time than those who do not.

So, hearing aids, it is.

Just one question: Should I tell my sons beforehand, or wait and hear what they really say around me?

You know what my answer is:

Water.