Hearing Aids

Being a senior, I quite naturally come in contact with many other seniors. At the Jewish Community Center and M'kor Shalom, or at any synagogue or church, you can meet seniors by the dozens. Some are fairly well off financially, while many must live on less-than-adequate limited incomes. If you speak to a senior and get no answer, chances are he or she suffers from some degree of hearing loss. So why don't they take advantage of the relief that hearing aids might give them? First, take this quickie quiz: What's the size of an average microwave oven, contains myriad microchips and countless other electronic parts, is able to compute at lightning speed, and costs about $1,000?

The forlorn man in the hearing-aid ad said he used to dread going out with his friends. "Background noise kept me from joining in the conversation," until a new type of hearing aid, a Miracle Ear Clarifier, ended his social isolation, according to the television advertisement. "Now I can hear and understand just fine even in noisy restaurants," the smiling Miracle Ear user gushed. Such glowing testimonials were just noise, according to state officials. Claims that Miracle Ear hearing aids with Clarifier circuits could eliminate background noise, allowing users to understand conversation in noisy environments, are "false and misleading," according to settlements filed yesterday by attorneys general in 36 states, including Pennsylvania.

Health insurers in New Jersey are now legally required to cover hearing aids for children. Acting Gov. Richard J. Codey signed "Grace's Law" yesterday, requiring insurers to cover the cost of hearing aids for children 15 and younger. The benefit can be capped at $1,000 per hearing aid every 24 months. Codey is filling in while Gov. Corzine is away for the holidays. The estimated cost to the state is $348,000 per year for the next three years for children insured under state programs.

Carol Honneger has a tiny magnet in her head that helps her hear better. The 64-year-old retired Temple University biology professor had the dime- size magnet implanted just behind her right ear in February. The rare-earth magnet holds a small external hearing device in place and they vibrate the mastoid bone, allowing her ear to pick up sound. "For four or five hours, I forget it's there," said Honneger, who still sometimes wears her conventional hearing aid. The implantable hearing device, called a Xomed Audiant Bone Conductor, is one of the latest advances available to the hearing impaired.

Some people start a business because they want to help others. John Stephenson wanted, first of all, to help himself. When the retired aerospace engineer bought hearing aids for himself in the mid-1990s, he did not like purchasing them through the usual source: audiologists. They regularly dispense, fit and adjust hearing aids, a process that sometimes requires several visits. Stephenson said he thought: "There should be a simpler, more affordable way. " So he invented a computer tool that serves as a shortcut, allowing customers to use their PCs and the Internet to fine-tune their hearing aids without a visit to an audiologist.

At age 6, Elienne Lawson came home from school and made an announcement. "Peace is too important to be left to the politicians," she told her parents. "I'm going to Russia to do something about this. " Soon after, the elementary schooler traveled to the Soviet Union as part of an international project to show the children of the world they were all, basically, the same. She was the youngest ambassador to the Soviets ever. "Elienne's always been an unusual child," said her father, Greg.

At first, you wonder what is going on. When the whistle blows to stop play, Shawnee sweeper Katie Ritter turns to goalie Jessica Malone and goes through a series of motions with her hands. Malone responds by tapping her leg pads with her stick and flashing a smile. At first glance, Ritter's hand signals appear to be a secret code between players on the Renegades field hockey team. In reality, it's sign language. Malone, a junior, is hearing impaired, but the situation hasn't stopped her from becoming one of the rising stars in South Jersey this season.

Those tiny little batteries that power hearing aids and watches are more potent than they look. They are packed with mercury, a substance that can be hazardous even after the batteries run out of steam. Wheelabrator Environmental Systems Inc. is starting a pilot recycling project in Falls Township to keep the batteries out of household garbage sent to landfills and incinerators. "Mercury needs to be taken out of the solid-waste stream," said Christine Meket, public-relations manager for Wheelabrator's mid-Atlantic region.

At times while he was growing up, Andrew Friedlander could sense the curious stares he would get from others, and would be tempted to remove the hearing aids that made him feel different. "I was definitely self-conscious when I was growing up," the 22-year-old St. Joseph's senior said. "It would come to the point where I didn't want to wear the hearing aids. But I've learned to accept my hearing loss as part of who I am. " Those feelings of discomfort are long gone, and Friedlander stands as a shining example that much can be overcome with perseverance and dedication.

It would be easy to simply pass on the butterfly. His left shoulder, injured when he was wrestling in junior high, wouldn't feel as if it's ready to burst under the torque of the butterfly motion. His freestyle, his best stroke, would be that much better if he didn't spend time toiling with a technique he has yet to master. But easy has never been Fred Tanzio's way. Easy, as much as the clowning side of his dual persona would like it to be, has never been an option. Not for the fastest swimmer at Cherry Hill West and one of the top freestylers in the state.

I cheaped out on Mother Mary for Christmas. I didn't mean to, actually. What really happened was that I gave up. I surrendered. You can't buy present for Mother Mary without a fistfight. Here's what happened. A month before Christmas, I started asking her what she wanted, but I should have known better. Joking aside, she's the best and most unselfish mother on the planet. So I know that she doesn't want me to spend money on her. That she would rather I didn't worry about her. That she would prefer it if I got gifts for Francesca instead.

You may not know that you can see a movie in closed-captioning, but I do, and it's all because of Mother Mary. That it was the wrong movie to see in closed-captioning is entirely my fault. We begin when I realize that she's getting bored. To be honest, I don't realize it at all, until she tells me so, one day. "I'm bored," she says. This happens to be a pet peeve of mine, as I believe people have an obligation to busy their own minds, and whenever anybody says "I'm bored," I always think: Read a book.

Joan Strachota, 71, formerly of Wallingford, who taught hearing-impaired children in Delaware County for 36 years, died of kidney cancer Wednesday, June 15, at White Horse Village in Newtown Square. Ms. Strachota spent her professional career working with hard-of-hearing children at Delaware County Intermediate Unit in Morton. She believed most children born with a hearing loss could learn to speak and to "listen" by reading lips and using hearing aids, said Marcia Finisdore, whose three children inherited hearing loss from her and were taught by Ms. Strachota.

We're in Day 16 of life with Mother Mary, which is now a countdown, like the Iran hostage crisis. I'm waiting for the cable company to rescue me. Until they get cable to the cottage, Mother Mary watches TV at my house, with the volume on 86. That's the highest number of the volume on my TV, and it's not a number you should know. It's like having a car that goes 130 miles an hour. You don't need to drive that fast. Mother Mary does. UNDERSTAND? ALSO, ARE YOU GETTING UP?

Almost from the time Lois McCallister was moved to the dementia unit at the Quadrangle nursing care facility, her daughter says there were troubling signs. Her mother's $5,000 hearing aids went missing, Mary French said. Staff members were overheard shouting at each other. Insurance forms, to be filled out the the staff, went unfinished. But it was her mother's claim that people were hitting her that sent Mary French and her husband Paul to their computer. "I Googled hidden camera," Paul French said Tuesday.

IT'S USED IN so many sports-related television commercials for dramatic effect. The competitors square off and the camera zooms in to show grimacing faces and beads of sweat. A coach is screaming, but the sound is muted. There is a jump to a crowd scene, but again, the noise is absent. The slow-motion scene is a preamble to the climactic moment. Then when the final moment of achievement occurs, the scene explodes with sounds of triumph. That's sort of how things are for University of Wyoming redshirt sophomore wrestler L.J. Helbig . . . well, except for the explosion of sound at the end. Helbig, 21, was born deaf.

TUCSON, Ariz. - The scene of the crime is a suburban strip mall as typical as any in America. Anchored by the Safeway, it includes a Walgreens, a florist, a dry cleaner, a nail salon, a pizzeria, a barber shop, a cell-phone store, and, reflecting the neighborhood's many retirees, a place to buy hearing aids. "Arizona is kind of a hotbed right now, but this could have happened anywhere," said Jeff Edwards, a driver for the florist. "Tucson should be known for our nice weather, not this.

Melvin L. Snyder, 80, a retired executive in the computer industry and an advocate for the hearing-impaired, died of kidney failure Friday, Dec. 24, at Doylestown Hospital Hospice. A native of Philadelphia, Mr. Snyder lived in Cherry Hill for 46 years before moving three years ago to Ann's Choice, a retirement residence in Warminster. Mr. Snyder began his professional career in the new computer division at Radio Corp. of America in Camden in 1951. He spent 20 years with RCA, then worked in computer technology for other companies.

Everyone takes different risks in life. Some people defuse bombs. Other people juggle knives. I give a microphone to Mother Mary, in front of 350 of my readers. If you ask me, it's safer to skydive than to ask Mother Mary to speak in front of an audience. You never know what she's going to say. Remember "Kids say the darnedest things"? Mother Mary says the darnedest things, too. Here's what I've observed. When you're young, up to the age of 7, you can say anything you want and people will think it's adorable.

  "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?" CLEARWATER, Fla. - They came for Tyson Gillies just after 12:30 a.m. Friday. Served him with an arrest warrant after a baggy containing a white powder that was confiscated from the back seat of a Clearwater police prowler on June 11 tested positive as cocaine. Dickie Noles, the best substance-abuse counselor in the professional sports business, was on the plane before bail was posted later in the morning for the troubled minor league outfielder.