03/08/2026
A message from Alan - owner of The Hearing Centre.
One of the very first things my father taught me when I started in audiology has stayed with me for my entire career.
One day, after seeing a particularly difficult client, I said, "Boy, that client was a cranky old man."
Dad pulled me aside and, quite sternly, said, "Don't ever say that again."
He then said something I've never forgotten.
"When you get to that age, you spend more time going to funerals than you do going to dinners.
Your friends and family are disappearing. Your mind may still feel young, but your body isn't. You can't do the things you used to do, even though you still want to.
Many people are living alone. So, before you judge someone, try to understand what their life might be like."
Those words changed the way I looked at people.
Whenever I have a bad day, I remind myself of that conversation.
My clients don't deserve to carry the weight of whatever is happening in my own life. They deserve patience, kindness, and my full attention.
Sadly, that lesson was put to the test last Monday.
Our beloved family dog had come to work with us because we had made the heartbreaking decision to take him to the vet that morning to say goodbye.
Like anyone who has loved a pet, our hearts were breaking.
My first appointment of the day was a hearing test for a young girl.
I'll admit, I wondered how I was going to get through it.
Thankfully, she was a beautiful, polite little girl with an equally lovely mum.
The appointment went perfectly, and I had the privilege of telling them her hearing was perfect.
For those few minutes, they unknowingly gave me something I needed, a reason to smile during one of the hardest mornings I've had in a long time.
Some people may think, "It's only a pet."
Others know that losing a pet means losing a family member, a loyal companion who loved you unconditionally every single day.
The grief is overwhelming, and the silence they leave behind is real.
We miss him terribly, and we're still struggling with the loss.
But last Monday reminded me of something else.
Every person who walks through our door is carrying a story we know nothing about.
Some are grieving. Some are frightened. Some are lonely. Some are simply trying to get through the day.
As health professionals and as human beings, we never know what burden someone is carrying.
A little kindness, a little patience, and a willingness to listen can mean far more than we will ever know.
