Christmas Letter to the Audiologist

Last thing I posted on here was a bit sad. I hope therefore to give you all a laugh with this. Not quite sure how it fits with Life Writing, but, it sure is from life.   Yes, I know it's unseasonal, but hey, so is the weather.  Enjoy!
Hil.

Dear Audiologist

Thank you so much for your prompt and expert attention during my husband’s recent visit to the walk-in audiology clinic.  We are most grateful. I feel that I would like to set the record straight, however with regard to your misconception that we had ‘walked in’ just because it was almost Christmas. The timing of our visit and the fact that it was close to Christmas was entirely coincidental. In fact, Christmas means nothing to us as we are both committed atheists and so ‘that time of year’ signals only a minor disruption of normal services, more rubbish even than usual on TV and various random visits from younger relatives who feel a familial duty to call upon us but whom we otherwise rarely see.

Allow me to explain. Last week I was about to make an appointment for my husband with a private hearing clinic, since he felt his present hearing aids were not working effectively and was entertaining the entire street with the increased sound levels demanded of our various audio appliances, (not to mention entering into an unseemly competition with the young man up the road who plays the drums and wants to start a rock band). I was about to use the said private clinic because the last time we approached our GP for a referral to the NHS we were told it would take ‘eight months to a year’ to get a referral and I feared that the noise level I was having to endure would render me quite insane, as well as deaf like my husband.

I mentioned this to a friend, who informed me that nowadays the NHS situation was much improved. With this in mind, I telephoned your audiology department to ask for information. I spoke to a very helpful lady called Maureen who told me that the audiology service now operates a walk in clinic in a number of local areas, and we could access this clinic without the necessity of seeing our GP first for a referral, especially as my husband has had NHS hearing aids in the past. [I should say at this point that in our health centre, although we are treated with the utmost courtesy, there is sometimes the underlying feeling that patients are an inconvenience, to be brushed off, rather like flies; hence our reluctance to, as my mother would have put it, ‘bother the doctor’ unless it is for something obviously life-threatening, or very unsightly.]  Bearing in mind that my husband had an appointment at the hospital Orthopaedic Centre on the following Monday I asked Maureen if it might be convenient for us to come along afterwards, and was assured that it would be fine.

I wonder have you any real idea how much effort is needed to get an eighty six year old, who is deaf, disabled with only one foot, suffers from dementia, is incontinent, has poor eyesight, and is used to having his own way, out of bed, washed, dressed, fed, toileted and into the car in order to get from Our Town to Your Hospital to make a nine thirty appointment?  No, I thought not. (Unless of course you have a disabled relative/are a carer in which case I take it all back)  The opportunity of making one such journey instead of two was therefore, a chance not to be missed.

We both admired the expertise with which you dealt with his present hearing aids. I do apologise on Gerald’s behalf for his lack of ability in this area. Manual dexterity has never been his strong point. During his working life he was an eminent scholar and acclaimed world class authority in his field, but nowadays his general agility has deteriorated somewhat.  I’m sure that  he would very much like to be able to ‘fiddle with’ his appliances like you suggested, to keep them in good working order, but I fear that anything requiring attention to such detail is quite outside of his capabilities, mentally and physically. Indeed, as his latest pair of hearing aids seemed to come at a cost above the price of rubies, £4,790 to be exact, we amateurs did not dare fiddle with them in case of causing unnecessary damage.

We were of course quite unaware that you would be so busy, and I must again express my apologies for our lack of forethought. Having, thank goodness enjoyed relatively good health in the past we have not been regular visitors to the seething parallel universe that is an NHS out-patients’ clinic so we were both taken by surprise and would have handed back our ‘number’ and gone home, to spare you the extra work, but it seemed such a shame to waste the opportunity for a consultation, having made the effort to get there.  I had also had a rather close call with the car park barrier mechanism earlier.  I regret to say that after driving round and round and noting that there were no ‘disabled’ car parking spaces free within a reasonable distance of the West Wing entrance, I was obliged to leave Gerald at reception on his own, (always a hazard for him despite having instructions not to stray) and having discovered the main car park notice saying ‘full’ even though at least six cars had left during the fifteen minutes that I waited, I somehow seemed to lose all sense of reason, got out of my car and physically attacked the barrier. I was no doubt observed on CCTV kicking and punching it, not to mention swearing profusely, until a brave and kindly member of the public approached me and pointed out that in spite of the ‘full’ notice I should have pressed the button in order for the barrier to open. After all that, I needed a bit of a sit down I can tell you, so the audiology department waiting area proved to be a godsend.

I did feel that the way you expressed your little criticisms was masterly. Your low key delivery, and chatty manner, would have been lost on Gerald had you not already deftly repaired one of his aids in what seemed a matter of seconds and popped it into his ear. He was able to pick up the subtleties of your intonation straight away. The irony was not lost on me, either, but I tried to keep out of things as I was not the patient. I wondered did you train as an actress before you took up audiology? I feel you could have an alternative career in voiceovers if ever you need it.

Many of our failings alas are due to advancing age; it comes to us all, and I’m sure that if we older  people could actually get to the floor with any realistic chance of getting up again unaided, we would be prostrate with contrition on every occasion that we come into contact with any of you healthcare professionals, for taking up so much of the NHS’ valuable resources. We don’t choose to become infirm and incompetent, as in due course you will discover.  (Personally I can’t wait for there to be NHS walk-in euthanasia clinics, although I can’t help feeling that demand – like that for divorce solicitors - will rocket both before and after the season of goodwill)

In spite of arriving at your clinic just before Christmas when you were busy, and having to endure your gentle admonishment for doing so, my dear Gerald is actually thrilled to have his hearing restored so unexpectedly. I too, am thrilled with the outcome of our visit. Just think of the knock on effect; the lad up the road can drum to his heart’s content without having to vie with our TV/Radio, the neighbours will be able to hear themselves shouting, the dog can bark with impunity and the local police will have one less ‘domestic’ to deal with over the festive season as I shall cease to suffer from noise related homicidal tendencies. (Believe me, I know about these things; I used to work in a police station)  I’m sure if Gerald and I were Christians and could still get onto our knees, we would be thanking God for our great good fortune in discovering the walk-in audiology clinic in time to hear the Queen’s seasonal message. My only lingering anxiety is that CCTV footage of my shaming episode at the car park might appear on U-Tube.

With all good wishes and inclusive winter greetings
Yours etc.