WHEN I discovered I was going to be spending the day with my ears blocked wandering the streets of Worcester, I must admit I was rather nervous.

Having spent my 25 years enjoying the full use of my unimpaired hearing, I had no idea what to expect.

As I met Scriven's hearing aid audiologist Hugh Jeffery, at Dolland & Aitchison, in the High Street, for a hearing check, I wondered whether a decade of listening to loud music may have had an impact on my hearing - which my mother is convinced of.

I was relieved to discover, after an intensive test listening to various high and low pitches and pressing a quiz show-style buzzer when I heard the faintest of noises, that my hearing was indeed in tip-top condition.

As my palms started to sweat at the thought of my impending challenge, Hugh and Scriven's regional support manager and fellow hearing aid audiologist Debbie Risbey, soon put me at my ease.

Keen to promote National Deaf Awareness Week, which ran from Monday, May 3, Debbie explained that it was very important the public realised the difficulties facing those who have hearing problems.

"For people that are partially deaf, they find themselves in an increasingly isolated world," said Debbie, who revealed that more than one million people in the UK would benefit from wearing a hearing aid don't use one.

"They can't hear what's going on around them so, in the end, they give up trying - which really cuts them off from society. It's very worrying."

Hugh went about the job of blocking my ears by syringing a blue putty into them that is normally used to take impressions for hearing aids.

Once the putty had set I not only resembled something like a blue version of Shrek, but I was also 60 per cent deaf.

I felt as though I had been swimming and still had water lodged in my ears.

As Debbie and Hugh tried to talk to me, all I could hear were muffled noises and I immediately found myself trying to lip-read.

Walking down the stairs out of the shop was also disconcerting - I suddenly felt unbalanced and had to cling to the banister.

Instead of hearing the clunk of my high-heeled footsteps, I could only feel the vibrations of walking along the street.

I sensed the hustle and bustle of the world moving around me but, as I stood in the middle of the High Street and people jostled past me, I felt alone and totally vulnerable.

My confidence disappeared and I became jumpy when people - who I had not been able to hear approaching from behind me - suddenly bumped into me.

As schools broke for the day, all I seemed to be able to hear clearly were the screams of children running up the road.

"That's because when you have difficulty hearing you tend to be able to hear higher pitched noises rather than low tones," explained Debbie.

Crossing the road at the traffic lights at the Cathedral roundabout, the intensity of my fears increased.

I could no longer rely on my hearing to let me know when traffic was coming and felt very unsure about crossing.

And by far the worst experience was going into a travel agent and asking for some holiday brochures.

I had no idea how loud I was speaking and was self-conscious that I was shouting at the staff member who came to serve me.

When she asked me if I could speak up, I felt frustrated and embarrassed.

When Hugh finally removed the plugs from my ears, I have never felt so relieved.

To suddenly lose one of the senses that you rely on in ways you don't even think about knocks you for six.

I now know what it is like to be trapped in the scary and isolating world of muffled words and confusing silence.

n For advice and information about issues raised in this feature, log onto www.look-at-me.org.uk, or to book a hearing appointment with a Scrivens audiologist call 0121 622 2674.