By Mac Pomeroy
As I mentioned in my previous article, I am hard of hearing and own hearing aids. Normally I would wait a while before mentioning it again, but this past week, something different happened.
I have had my hearing aids since I was about 5 years old. Obviously not the same pair, but in general, I am fairly used to owning some. They are a total pain to take care of and wear, but they are occasionally of use. For the most part, I only wear them for work, classes and if there is an event where I will desperately need full hearing.
Over the past 15 years, I can say I have been a mostly responsible owner. However, as with all things that are so tiny, I occasionally misplace them. They are always found, but sometimes I am not so lucky.
Last Monday, I was extremely sick. While I felt fine in the morning, I left class feeling like I was about to pass out. I was still wearing my hearing aids when I got to where my father was picking me up. I climbed into the car, took out my hearing aids and put them in their carrying case.
Truthfully, I don’t remember what happened after that. Or much of the next day. I was very sick and spent most of the time sleeping. On Wednesday, I tried going back to class. I gathered my materials, but when I reached for my fanny pack, my hearing aids weren’t there. I panicked. I wasn’t sure where they could be if they fell out in my room or if they were around my house.
Soon after, it was clear that I wasn’t much less sick than I had been the last two days. I ended up missing class again and did my best to search. But no matter how much I tore my room apart, they weren’t anywhere. I called my older sister, anxious that I would have to tell our parents.
With her sage wisdom, my sister told me not to tell them. After all, the tracker in them implied that my hearing aids were last recorded in my dad’s truck, so logically they must have gotten home. They had to be in my room somewhere, and I had to keep looking.
When we make mistakes, it’s often easier not to confess to them. Perhaps if no one knows, it can be brushed under the rug. Depending on the mistake, you may not want to upset anyone or be shamed for your actions.
During cases like this, it seems better to try to resolve it yourself. Forgot about an important assignment and took a dive in your grade? Ask the professor if you could make up the assignment or get extra credit. Break a valuable family item? Some duct tape or super glue may fix that. Get an embarrassing tattoo on a drunken night? Again, maybe some duct tape or super glue.
It’s natural to want to solve a problem by yourself, regardless of how terrible your own “solution” is. However, when it comes to the more severe issues, it’s usually best to ask for help. And in my case, losing my hearing aids is a very severe problem.
I spent the next week frantically searching. I just wasn’t sure where they could be. I had checked practically every inch of my room. By Saturday, absolute fear set in. Perhaps they fell when I was getting out of the truck and were crushed under the tires. Or, what if the hearing aids fell from the case and a bird mistook them as food? Each option seemed highly unrealistic, but I couldn’t think of a likely solution.
Sometimes, the answer to our mistakes may be right in front of our faces, but we are too frustrated to see it. You can run around in circles searching for it only to discover that what you were looking for was right where the problem began. It may take the help of someone else to figure out what to do.
Sunday came, and I still hadn’t told my parents. It seemed too late, and my sister was insisting there was no reason to tell them. At this point, I was convinced they were gone forever. Then my dad entered the living room and asked about them. I shrugged and replied as I normally would before realizing something.
I told him to give me my hearing aids.
As it turned out, the tracker was correct. Last Monday, I took them out and put them in the center console. They had been in my dad’s truck all week.
Sometimes, it’s best to fix our problems on our own. However, sometimes it’s better to ask for help.
