What?

So today I had an appointment at Kaiser Permanente, our local HMO. My wife has been bugging me for some time to get my hearing checked. I already have to wear reading glasses. I think the next stop is the incontinence pads, isn’t it? I digress. So it really bothers my wife and daughters that they have to repeat everything to me. It doesn’t bother me, however. They have been saying for some time that I need hearing aids. No way. Not until I’m at least 65.

My grandfather, Carl, was always the joker. Once he told me in a very serious and believable tone, “Scott, I have aids.” I must have given him the required look of shock and confusion as he pulled me closer and whispered to me, “Hearing aids,” then he gave me a wink.

Sometimes being hard of hearing is not a bad thing. With three women in the house, all listening to those Project Runway beauty shows I completely detest, not being able to hear the TV is great. Sometimes when Sheri is asking me something from downstairs and I don’t reply (because I can’t hear her as I’m sting in my comfortable chair with my fan running), it’s not because I don’t love her. I just don’t hear her sweet, soft voice. And besides, it’s nice and quiet in my head. I like it in here.

But again, I digress. So I’m in the waiting room for an ear check. Before I can be referred to an audiologist, they need to check for blockage. I was a bit nervous given my last ear encounter. Click on this link to read all about it. So, I’m in the waiting room, waiting because that’s what you do. I was there about 10 minutes. The thing about being in Kaiser’s waiting rooms is that because they are so large something interesting always happens. And today was no exception.

Across from me was an old hippie with an ulcerated leg. He kept talking about it to his old hippie girlfriend. She thought everything he said was funny. This told me she was his girlfriend and not his wife because we all know that our wives never think we’re funny. But they did when we were dating them, right guys?

The door to the exam hallway opens and a nurse walks out. Everyone says the same silent prayer, “Lord, please let her call my name and rescue me from hearing about an old hippie’s leg pus.” But to my great disappointment she says, “Katrina.” The old hippie immediately looks up at someone whom just moments before he could have cared less about. Katrina and her husband stand up and walk toward the open door. “Katrina!” shouts the old hippie, scaring us all.

She looks and curtly says, “What?”

“Can’t you say, ‘hello’ to your ex-husband?” the old hippie asks.

“Gross! Shut up,” she replied

Here’s where the conversation got real interesting. Apparently, Katrina never told her current husband that she had been previously married. Visibly upset, Katrina’s husband asked the old hippie what he was talking about. “We were married for four years, then she left me.” They had lived in Burlingame (a bay area suburb) and had both moved to Santa Rosa, unknown to each other. “We got married in ’83.” During this awkward conversation Katrina was quite visibly upset and kept trying to pass off the old hippie as some delusional old man that should not be listened to. But Katrina’s husband was very interested, for good reason. He quizzed the old hippie for about thirty more seconds before Katrina exploded on him, “He’s lying! Now will you please get in here!”

They disappeared behind the door. All eyes now shifted to the old hippie. “Wow, what were the chances of seeing her again?” he said. He then rambled on about both being in Santa Rosa, more about being married for 4 years, more about the lesion on his leg, and something about his drug habit driving her away. His hippie girlfriend didn’t seemed phased by any of this. Had she been his hippie wife, she would have.

The nurse then returned and called my name. She checked my ears and told me they looked great. And then we talked about the little exchange we just witnessed. As I left, I thought, “I bet Katrina was wishing her husband had a hearing problem.” It’s amazing to think that Katrina thought she was going to a routine appointment at Kaiser today. Little did she know that her life would change tremendously because of the words of an old hippie with an oozing leg. So would Katrina’s husband.