Front Porch: Hearing problems sometimes lead to serious laughs

My husband was at physical therapy a few weeks ago when a … well … interesting thing happened.

In addition to the cortisone injections he gets in his back, he’s having some PT appointments, which consist of the physical therapist working on his ailing back and hip flexor muscle, followed by Bruce getting off the table and doing a number of standing exercises.

Bruce was lying on the table recently as the first phase of the session was ending, when the therapist said, “OK, grab your crotch.”

That took Bruce by surprise, and after a second or two, he replied, “What?”

The therapist repeated: “Time to grab your crotch.”

Quite confused at that point, Bruce took a breath and calmly asked, “What is it exactly that you’re asking me to do?”

The therapist looked at Bruce, concerned (I learned later) that perhaps Bruce was having difficulty comprehending what was being said, which would have been a whole other problem. So he elaborated: “I said it’s time to put your shoes on and we need to do the exercises.”

Here is where I should interrupt the telling of this story to mention that my hard-of-hearing husband’s footwear that day was on the floor beside the table – a pair of Crocs.

When the therapist asked Bruce what he thought he had heard, and Bruce told him, they both broke out into tear-producing fits of laughter.

Bruce’s therapist is also mine. I see him for therapy for my hip. As it turned out, I had an appointment the next day, and when I walked in, I asked, “So what’s this about you wanting my husband to grab his crotch?”

We both had another good laugh, and he told me he couldn’t get the “what-if” image out of his head that day – supposed Bruce had just complied. And what would he, the therapist, have thought or done in that rather awkward moment?

It was funny.

That reminds me of another time, when Bruce and I were watching a TV news clip about the sandwich generation – middle-age people having to care for their aging parents while still raising their own children. A comment was made in the piece that often, a choice has to be made between caring for their children or their parents.

Bruce said, “What did they just say?” I told him.

He kind of smiled. “Oh, I thought the guy said they’d have to choose between their children and their ferrets.” And then he added lightly, “If it was me, I’d certainly chose my ferrets.”

Also funny.

But, sadly, a lot of the effects of hearing issues aren’t so funny. A lot of the bad stuff hasn’t happened to us, but we are definitely in the soup here.

In general, for those with hearing issues, miscommunication experiences range from the inconvenient or annoying to the potentially dangerous. The person with the hearing problem often withdraws from conversation or socializing and becomes isolated. People living with them tend to engage less in conversation with them because it’s a strain (emotionally and vocally) to have to keep repeating, remember to talk slowly and loudly, not talk while one’s back is turned and learn to be gracious in becoming a translator and interpreter. Hearing loss can affect personality, cognition and all sorts of things.

Yes, hearing aids can help, but not always. The hearing-impaired have to be able financially and willing physically to pursue help – and actually consistently wear the devices, upgrading and switching them out to find the right ones for their particular issues. Those in their lives have to calmly learn to work with the problem with an open heart and mind and not get frustrated.

In a perfect world, we’d all do what we need to do to make this better. Bruce does what he can and is willing to do at this point. He can only handle so much, too. I have a different view of how this is all going, but this isn’t a situation where I’m going to prevail, so all I can do is laugh when I can and work on my patience.

And go outside to take care of the ferrets.