Flashback Friday - Loudness

From the archives, December 9, 2004

I like people to give me details when telling a story. I like to give details when telling a story. I feel that details are important, and I want to tell and hear a story from beginning to end in order. Sometimes when I'm telling a story I speak like the person I am talking about. I'm not very good with voices, especially dialects, but I always do this to add to the story so that people can get a picture in their head.

Last night while telling my husband about my visit with his sister in the hospital, I was using the voice I used while talking to Julie. My husband pointed out that I was talking in a louder voice than normal.

Tom: "She isn't deaf."

I had to think about this for a minute. Was I talking louder when talking to her, or had I added that while telling the story to differentiate between the story and my regular talking? I mean, I've always talked loudly. We all did this in my family because most everyone in my family WAS deaf. My father was hard of hearing, as were his father and his brother. My aunt Lorene is hard of hearing. My aunt Helen, on my mother's side, was losing her hearing. Family gatherings were always a loud affair. I grew up talking loudly, mainly due to my father being in the same house. Friends would have to tell me to tone it down when I was just with them.

Talking loudly made me fabulous, however in many things. I could project well during speech class or acting on stage. No one ever asked me what I was saying after I blew my whistle and corrected incorrect behavior while lifeguarding. My children always hear me no matter how far out of range they may be.

Today, I observed myself while sitting with her, and realized that I did talk louder and had been since she ended up in the hospital. It was as if I thought her ears were damaged instead of her brain. I can remember in the beginning when we weren't getting response from Julie where I talked louder thinking that would help. I have never toned down the volume now that she is communicating. Then I discovered that I wasn't the only one.

Today, her brother, the big medical doctor, did the same thing each time he addressed Julie. He would be talking to me in a normal tone, and then he would turn to Julie, and raise his voice when asking her a question. The nurses too would talk to us one way, and talk louder when talking to Julie.

It fascinated me. I've decided it is a medical thing after spending the morning observing everyone. And, obviously, I should have been in the medical field. Someone get me some scrubs!

2017 Update: Wow! I wanted scrubs back then! Obviously, fate. We no longer talk loudly to Julie who had one more brain surgery, and who recovered very well.