Weeks ago, my husband nudged me awake.
“Babe, your alarm is going off.”
I sat up and listened. Hard.
“I don’t hear anything.”
He pushed me again.
“Trust me. Your alarm is going off.”
So I rolled to the edge of the bed and, sure enough, my iPad screen was on and a still, small sound was barely audible. I’d left the volume turned down to the lowest possible setting from the night before. I pushed the button and rolled back over.
“How can you hear that but you can’t hear me when I’m talking to you?”
“What? I dunno.”
[flash forward a few days]
“Honey, I still don’t know how you could hear my alarm the other day, but you can’t hear me when I’m talking to you. I was right next to it, and I couldn’t hear it ringing.”
“Well, I spend all day, every day, listening for small sound changes. Heart murmurs, valves closing, that sort of thing. So big sounds just get tuned out. You talk all the time. You’re a big sound. I don’t even hear those anymore.”
Well, there you have it.