And then came COVID.
Once the masks went on, the dimmer switch became a full-on brownout. Without lips to read, I realized I could not hear a thing! Conversations blurred into word-soup, and I was left stranded in the dark. That is when it hit me: I must have been lip reading for years without even knowing it. When those cues disappeared, so did my ability to follow conversation. I started avoiding social gatherings, inventing excuses not to attend, because every time I tried, I came home defeated, frustrated and exhausted.
Sometimes, the issue is mechanical – a matter of damaged hair cells in the inner ear, a stiffened eardrum, or bones that no longer vibrate as they should. This kind of physical impairment means that sound waves cannot travel properly, and the signal is garbled before it ever reaches the brain.
But for others, and increasingly as we age, the problem can be found in the brain’s ability to process sound. Even if the ears pick up the noise, the brain’s auditory centers might struggle to decode and interpret what is heard. Over time, when these neural pathways are not regularly activated, whether due to under-stimulation or neuroprocessing dysfunction, the brain’s regions responsible for sound can shrink or go dormant. That decline does not stay limited to hearing; it can ripple outward, affecting memory, focus, and even mood.
Stark
The research is stark: people with untreated mild hearing loss are twice as likely to develop dementia. Moderate hearing loss triples the risk. Severe hearing loss makes it five times higher. Five times!
And the scariest part? The decline is gradual. You do not notice it at first, because your brain works overtime to compensate. But that extra effort comes at a cost. I used to wonder why I would come home from dinner with friends completely drained, as if I had run a race without leaving my chair. Now I understand: it was hearing fatigue.
With a dysfunctional auditory center, the brain works overtime to separate signal (the words) from noise (the background chatter, the clinking glasses, the hum of the air conditioner). That constant decoding uses an enormous amount of mental energy. Short-term memory suffers because all your resources went into simply hearing. Over time, the fatigue becomes so depleting that it is easier to withdraw than to fight through the static.
That is why so many people with hearing loss are misunderstood as “anti-social.” We are not. In fact, for an extrovert, the irony is brutal: you crave connection, but every gathering feels like a marathon you did not train for. You go in knowing that noise, background clatter, and competing voices will drain your energy faster than it can be replenished. By Friday, when dinner with friends sounded fun on Monday, a week of straining to hear has left you running on fumes. The conflict is real – your heart wants to be in the middle of the laughter, but your brain is begging you to sit it out.
Nobody hesitates to wear glasses, and vision loss, while inconvenient, does not increase your risk of dementia. So why do people resist wearing hearing aids? Denial? Vanity? Ego? Cost? Of all the health issues that are resolvable, treating hearing loss sooner rather than later has dramatic consequences. Why would you resist something that could protect your memory, your energy, and your connections with the people you love?
Upside
Today’s hearing aids are not the squealing beige bananas of decades past. They are sleek, discreet, and smart. But they are not perfect. They amplify everything, so controlling your environment goes a long way to improving the quality of conversations. Sit away from music speakers, with your back to a wall or in a cozy booth to help minimise surrounding noises. Dine in popular restaurants at off-peak hours. When no one else is around, ask to have background music turned down. Sit outside and avoid sounds bouncing off the hard surfaces of floors and walls. My favourite sized dinner “party” has four people; I still rely strongly on lip reading, so I need to be able to see everyone’s faces. I often remind my loved ones that “if they can’t see my face, I can’t hear them”.
There is an upside to hearing loss. When my hearing aids are out, I am gloriously immune to crying babies on airplanes, thunderstorms and snoring Shih Tzus. Selective silence is its own kind of luxury.
If you are over fifty, do not shrug off a hearing test. The longer you wait, the harder it is for your brain to “wake back up.” Hearing devices need to be worn consistently – 10+ hours a day – to keep those neural pathways alive. You would not work out once a week and expect six-pack abs. The same goes for your brain. Train it daily, and you are not just protecting your hearing, you are protecting your memory, your focus, and your future.
Libby Heath recently became the first Mayo Clinic certified wellness coach in Asia. She shares her insights and advice through her column ‘Wellthwise’ here in The Phuket News. Please note that if you have a condition that requires medical treatment, consult your doctor. Contact Libby at: BeWellthwise@gmail.com.