Can You Hear Me Now?

Years ago at the school where I got sick, I was responsible for organizing, presenting and being the MC for Grandparent's Day, which was always the day before Thanksgiving. It was a nice fundraiser for the school and a way for the parents and grandparents to see the children in their classrooms, have a bit of breakfast while being serenaded by students playing the piano in the ballroom then ending the day before lunch with a formal choir concert featuring every grade singing a couple of songs. It was held in the gym/community center. In other words, it was a huge gym with a stage. Not the best for music.

For years, I loved presenting the children and they always did a great job. But the year I will never forget was when a storm blew through and knocked out all the power. The head of the school spoke with me and had decided to cancel the final concert as there would be no lights or microphones. I smiled at her and said, "We'll throw open all the blinds for light and my voice can hit the back wall of any auditorium!" She looked relieved, the children did great and every single older person heard my voice as the MC for the event.

When I am with mom, I tend to talk louder and slower as her hearing is not the best, even with hearing aids. I also noticed that when I am out with other people, I am now in the habit of talking louder. When I had coffee with Marty after his lung transplant, I was sitting in a corner and my voice really bounced off of it. A couple sitting one table over very politely requested that I lower my voice. Yikes! I try to be more careful now.

But, all of this is thrown out the window when I arrive to doctor's appointments, especially with mom. When she first moved here, she was nervous going to all the new doctors and the new specialists and all the new receptionists who didn't know her. I had learned throughout the years that the front office people are so important to long term care. They have personally saved me and put themselves out because of our relationship. So when mom began meeting all the new doctors, we would arrive together, always smiled and said some complementary comment to the check in person, commented to the intake nurse (you have a beautiful name or you have amazing hair) and always had a chat with the person making the next appointment. When returning to the next appointment, we were remembered. After the third visit, we discovered they no longer needed to check mom's ID though it took a bit longer for them to remember her name. Now, we will be wandering the hallways of her huge hospital when someone will stop us by name and ask how we are doing. When we arrive to mom's appointment, we never arrive quietly. With my voice, everyone hears us. Everyone from the doctors and nurses and other receptionists come over to say hello and give us a hug. In the waiting room. Pretty special. It makes mom feel loved and cherished and not just an older person needing a doctor.

So, my voice is still able to hit the back wall of any auditorium, though these days I try to use it for good instead of irritating people.