Oh, damn. My hearing aids are falling apart. I’ve had them for the allotted time. They are National Health Service hearing aids. And the audiology department at our local hospital is behind schedule. My new aids were scheduled for February 2014, and we are now in May.
One hearing aid is sitting in its box, waiting to go to hearing aid heaven in the NHS sky. The other is in my ear. But this morning as I was putting it in my ear, it all fell apart in my hand. The expensive section (the one you have to pay £75 for if you lose it) dropped on the carpet and disappeared into the completely vanished dimension so common in the Furlong house. So this morning had Mr Furlong peering under the bed with his vision assisted by two large 1000watt torches trying to enter the vanished dimension. At last, in the distance, in the deep recesses and dust under the Furlong nuptial bed, he discovered it lurking, sulking, just watching us.
My hearing aid is extremely annoyed that it hasn’t retired yet. It is angry that the OTHER one is happily serene in the box in my beside drawer, but IT still has to work from dawn till dusk.
C’mon NHS, I’m having disciplinary problems here. I want my new hearing aids NOW.