Growing up in the footy capital of Australia, I was immersed in a culture where football was more than just a game, it was a way of life. In another lifetime, I was an VFL player for Hawthorn and St Kilda, racking up over 300 games from 1974 to 1988. Those years were filled with unforgettable moments – the thrill of the game, the camaraderie of teammates, and the roar of the crowd. After my time on the field, I transitioned into teaching, dedicating myself to shaping young minds. However, it was during this new chapter that I faced a significant new challenge – my struggle with hearing loss.
The wake-up call
The moment that changed everything came during a swimming class I was teaching. As I turned my back for just a second, a little girl jumped into the deep end of the pool. It was fortunate that I turned around at the right time, I can still see her blue eyes looking at me. Thankfully I was able to grab her before she went under, but it hit me hard: If I had wandered off, she could have died. There’s no doubt that the child’s safety was jeopardised because I couldn’t hear her jumping in the water. That moment made me realise my hearing loss wasn’t just affecting me; it was impacting those around me, too.
For years, I had been in denial about my hearing difficulties. At family dinners, I would pretend to hear conversations, but often I missed crucial parts of discussions. My wife, Roxy, had been urging me for years to get my hearing checked, but I brushed off her concerns. The embarrassment only grew when I found myself responding to questions in social settings that were completely off-topic. I’d say something completely leftfield and they’d look at me and go, "What are you talking about?".
I would avoid engaging with friends when I couldn’t hear properly. I just didn’t have anything to offer in conversation, especially if we were out in a public space. It was a humbling experience to say the least – going from a confident young footy player to someone who struggled to keep up with simple conversations.
"I would avoid engaging with friends when I couldn’t hear properly – I just didn’t have anything to offer in a conversation, especially if we were out in a public space."
Eventually, after much hesitation, I went for a hearing test at Audika and discovered that I had only 49% hearing in one ear and 50% in the other. Seeing those results really hit home how much frustration I must have caused my family by not being able to fully engage in conversations.
Getting the support I needed for my hearing loss was like stepping into a whole new, three-dimensional world. Sounds that had been muted came alive; birds chirping, cars passing by—simple sounds I hadn’t heard in years. I now have a newfound appreciation for the smallest things in life, including playing music while mowing the lawn or cycling.
Living in a new dimension
Looking back, I can see how unaware I was of the dangers of ignoring my hearing issues. It took that near-tragic moment for me to understand how critical it is to be aware of our health. Now, I get to enjoy the simple pleasures of life without straining to catch every word. These experiences remind me just how important it is to prioritise your health and take action, for both you and your loved ones.
For more Unheard Stories, visit audika.com/unheard-stories
