I went to London yesterday and am still in recovery. I could be described as hearing impaired; in the old days it would be half deaf as I only have one ear that actually functions. In most circumstances I cope with it, though stereo sound is wasted on me and I have no idea where sounds are coming from. I prefer one to one contacts and avoid crowded rooms as all sounds come in through the left channel and are mixed hopelessly.
The problems started on the train; shifted from my safety zone into public transport is not my idea of a good time and although we got seats, the noise was almost overwhelming. The sound of the train itself was bearable, but there was a high pitched whine at around the 15khz frequency, that penetrated where few sounds can. It remained for the entire journey, a harbinger of what was yet to come.
We disgorged at London Bridge and joined the seething mass of humanity. It was reminiscent of an anthill that has had the top kicked off, with people rushing around in all directions in a recreation of some version of hell. The whole thing accompanied by a barrage of noise from traffic, overhead aircraft, road works and every other possible means of creating sounds. For me, any sort of meaning is very hard to distil from this and so I wandered around, admiring architecture and being moved by the ceramic poppies. We did find a reasonably tranquil spot by the river and conversation was temporarily possible.
Next came the restaurant - a trendy place on the south bank more or less underneath the Shard. Putting aside London prices, the place was lovely and the atmosphere was, well, loud. As soon as we sat down, I realised that wherever I sat was not going to make the slightest difference. As with all restaurants, there is background noise which escalates exponentially as it fills up. The lack of soft furnishing, and the nearby espresso machine complimented the bashing of crockery and cutlery and immersed me in isolation. The food was good and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, but by the end of the meal and the second bottle of house red, my head was throbbing, and we still had the train journey to come. We declined going on for a drink and headed for home. There was no whine on the train home and within the hour I was back into my safe zone and the peace and silence that is my normality.
It is hard to explain to others how monaural hearing can be so handicapping, as one functions well in normal circumstances; hearing difficulties are hard to empathise with as there is no visual clue, thus people have little patience when they are not heard.
The problems started on the train; shifted from my safety zone into public transport is not my idea of a good time and although we got seats, the noise was almost overwhelming. The sound of the train itself was bearable, but there was a high pitched whine at around the 15khz frequency, that penetrated where few sounds can. It remained for the entire journey, a harbinger of what was yet to come.
We disgorged at London Bridge and joined the seething mass of humanity. It was reminiscent of an anthill that has had the top kicked off, with people rushing around in all directions in a recreation of some version of hell. The whole thing accompanied by a barrage of noise from traffic, overhead aircraft, road works and every other possible means of creating sounds. For me, any sort of meaning is very hard to distil from this and so I wandered around, admiring architecture and being moved by the ceramic poppies. We did find a reasonably tranquil spot by the river and conversation was temporarily possible.
Next came the restaurant - a trendy place on the south bank more or less underneath the Shard. Putting aside London prices, the place was lovely and the atmosphere was, well, loud. As soon as we sat down, I realised that wherever I sat was not going to make the slightest difference. As with all restaurants, there is background noise which escalates exponentially as it fills up. The lack of soft furnishing, and the nearby espresso machine complimented the bashing of crockery and cutlery and immersed me in isolation. The food was good and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, but by the end of the meal and the second bottle of house red, my head was throbbing, and we still had the train journey to come. We declined going on for a drink and headed for home. There was no whine on the train home and within the hour I was back into my safe zone and the peace and silence that is my normality.
It is hard to explain to others how monaural hearing can be so handicapping, as one functions well in normal circumstances; hearing difficulties are hard to empathise with as there is no visual clue, thus people have little patience when they are not heard.
1 comment:
As a fellow hearing impaired person, not as bad as your condition I understand, I thank you even more for making the journey x
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