“Homeless Tequila”

Misunderstandings happen to everyone; they’re a part of life that we generally just deal with, without giving them much thought except for maybe a brief annoyance or chuckle.  However, for people with hearing loss, both the frequency and the frustration of misunderstandings are much greater, often leading to intense embarrassment and even social isolation. 

There are two types of misunderstandings: knowing you didn’t hear it right, and thinking you heard it right when you didn’t.  The second type is much worse, of course, and can cause all sorts of problems.

The worst/best/most memorable misunderstanding Brandt and I have had was about 2 years ago.  (I knew his hearing was getting worse, but “Dr. Smith” kept refusing to test it.)  I asked Brandt an innocent question when I got up one Saturday morning: “Hi honey, how are you?”  A mixture of pain and confusion pulled down his face. 

“Why am I Homeless Tequila?”

he asked in disbelief.  “What—?!” I stammered.  “Why would you call me that?” he continued.  “I would never call you something like that.” 

Another time, Brandt was doing Statistics homework and grumbled to himself.  I asked him, “Why are you grumbling, honey?”  He made a sad, insulted face and said,

“I’m not ugly!”  

I was a little taken aback.  “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re adorable!  I asked why you were GRUMBLING!” “Oh…” he answered, laughing, “I’m grumbling because I’m tired but I have to finish my homework before I can go to bed.  By the way, EARS SUCK!”  I responded, “Apparently!”

A less offending one happened when we were in Brandt’s hometown for his high school reunion.  As we drove by the old school buildings, I asked him, “Does it bring back memories?”  He coughed and asked,

“Does it bring back ovaries?!”

This reminds me of the Sprint PCS commercials from a few years ago that featured “Trench Coat Guy.”  He would appear when bad cellphone service caused hilarious misunderstandings.  In my favorite of the commercials, the wife calls her husband to say, “Get a movie; you know, something old,” but the husband hears, “Get a monkey, with a cold.”  Trench Coat Guy tells the wife, “It’s not his fault, it’s the cellular static.”

In another commercial, the wife asks her husband to bring home shampoo, and instead he brings home the killer whale Shamu.  Trench Coat Guy again explains to the angry wife, “It’s the cellular static.”

This is what we’re dealing with in Brandt’s situation, too—cellular static.  In his case, there are two types of static: the literal, LOUD static that he hears all the time (tinnitus), and the “static” of hearing loss that garbles and muffles what he hears.  Both of these are caused at the cellular level, by his damaged inner-ear hair cells.

The initial reason that I decided we had to learn Sign Language was to help cut down on misunderstandings caused by Brandt’s “cellular static.”  So if he’s about to go grocery shopping and asks me, “Did you say to get grapes or cake?” then I can repeat it with both speech and sign (as soon as I learn more food signs; so far I only know APPLE, POTATO, COOKIE, and MILK).

Another big help for cutting down on misunderstandings, especially when we’re not face-to-face, are e-mails and text messages.  I don’t like having to pay for every text, but they’ve been a huge help!