I'm Not So Tough

I thought I was tough. Turns out - when it comes to my hearing - I’m not so tough. The thought of being without sound for even one day brings tears. Wouldn’t you think after losing my hearing little by little over 30 years I would be able to bear a day or two? Not so. 

Sunday night I noticed that my left processor kept cutting out. I discovered that the wire on my headpiece had a crack in it. It had been my practice to always have a backup on hand, but I discovered that I had forgotten to order a backup. Because I had a meeting on Tuesday that was important to me, I felt a little panic. 

Getting creative, I decided to charge up the batteries to my body processor which I had not worn in a very, very long time. The flashing light told me the processor was getting power yet I had no sound. Switching through the programs I finally got something on the last one. It then dawned on me that all but one of my programs was set on 100% T-mic and the body processor does not have a T-mic, therefore no sound. Settling on the one program that did work, I wore my body processor on the left side and a BTE with a poorly working headpiece on the right. This would get me through Monday and I would immediately order new headpieces. I knew I probably wouldn’t get them before my meeting on Tuesday, but with prayer and tape, I managed to wear both my Harmony processors and get through the meeting and that day.

Wednesday I started watching for a Federal Express delivery. When nothing came by 4:30 pm my husband, Paul, encouraged me to call customer service again and ask about my order. To my shock and dismay, the order had been put on hold due to new regulations and probably some confusion about my immediate need. As the customer service person was explaining equipment changes, the new procedures and how long it could take, I was overcome with emotion. I gave the phone to Paul, my rock. I am so blessed to have a husband who has been willing to come to my rescue and give me rest, or let me cry.

The customer service representative and insurance assistant stayed with us on the phone figuring out how to make sure I have sound as soon as possible. Replacement headpieces should be here by Friday and the order process for Naida has been initiated. With the new parts on their way, I have rallied and have much to look forward to as the Naida has some great new features I am excited to try. Still - I am not as tough as I thought - and I will never be without backup parts again!

Making a Come Back

While at a holiday party this past winter, I found out that our local theater was planning to do the stage show “Jesus Christ Superstar.” I had seen this show before my hearing loss was diagnosed progressive and when I still had almost normal hearing. It is one of my favorite musicals. 

When my daughters were in marching band I did a lot of volunteer sewing for the color-guard. I was missing the sewing and creating that goes into putting together a show so I decided to volunteer to help with costuming LTO’s (Little Theater of Owatonna) production of “Jesus Christ Superstar.”  About a month ago we got started on the process and I have been going to the theater a couple nights a week. I’m sewing costumes for five of the characters. 

This evening I happened to be walking into the theater on my way to the costuming room when the cast was singing the “Hosannah” song. I stopped to listen and was completely drawn in. It was beautiful. I sat down and ended up staying for quite awhile as they continued to run the scene. 

Although I have had my cochlear implants for quite a few years, giving me a fair share of CI moments (as we cochlear implant users call them), this was another CI moment  in a couple of ways. First, hearing the voices raised in song as they carried through the theater was awesome. You see, the last time I attended a production in that theater, my youngest daughter was playing a major role in “The Crucible” and my hearing was so bad that I had to read the script before going to see her perform. I had stopped going to plays there because I couldn’t get the dialogue on my own. Being able to hear and understand songs in this theater that I stopped going to many years ago felt almost unbelievable.

The second moment is a little different in nature as it goes beyond hearing. I lost my hearing gradually over 30 years and little by little I gave up activities and relationships in my life as I became uncomfortable with my inability to hear. It was easier to shrink my world than it was to battle the challenges of communication I faced every day. I looked around the theater at the people noting friends from many years ago and the new friends I’m making and realized that I am no longer minimizing my world. I’m growing it, jumping in, and just like the stage production of “Jesus Christ Superstar,” I’m making a come back. 

Clear Voice

People often ask and want to understand how I hear with my cochlear implant. When trying to help others understand, I and other CI users have described pictures. For instance, if moderate deafness is a blurry picture, then hearing aids bring the picture into focus. When you are profound to severely deaf and you can’t make out the picture at all, it is just a smear of colors - a cochlear implant brings the picture back so you can make out what it is. The degree of blurriness varies amongst users. My cochlear implant experience has been great and I have a pretty sharp picture that includes bright colors representing my enjoyment of music. 

The company that makes my cochlear implant, Advanced Bionics (AB), is a progressive company that continues to seek ways to bring better hearing to the deaf and hard of hearing. They keep fine tuning the picture and since I got my first cochlear implant in 2001, AB has presented their cochlear implant users with three advances in the processing technology. The last improvement I received was like getting a high definition television. Today I got the third. It is called “Clear Voice” and my hearing picture just went 3-D. 

Clear Voice processing is able to identify background noise that may interfere with understanding speech and then lowers it to a level that gets it out of the way for better speech comprehension. There are three levels to choose from, low, medium and high. 

While I was being fitted with Clear Voice, there was a steady rain coming down pattering on the window of my audiologist’s office. When she first turned Clear Voice on for me, I immediately noticed the softening of the sound of the rain. She had it set to medium. When she put the Clear Voice on high, the sound of the rain disappeared. Then we tried the low setting, which I liked. I could still hear the rain, but it felt pushed back and out of the way of the conversation with my audiologist.

For my three programs, I decided to go with Clear Voice low on one map, medium on the second and my old favorite map in the third slot. I had my processors set to the first map with Clear Voice low for the drive home. I was planning to test the sound of music during the drive and I discovered that I really like Clear Voice low to listen to music. This map pushed the car and road noise down enough so that the music sounded wonderful. 

This technology is amazing! I think I’m going to love hearing with Clear Voice. It is a whole new picture!

Thankful for Health and Hearing

There were some rough patches for our family during the 2011 holiday season which served to enlarge our blessings with the contrast of getting through some moments to celebrating others. Due to illnesses with a daughter and grandson, I found myself in emergency and hospital rooms more times than I care to remember over a two month period. We all value health and it is during these times we are reminded to be grateful for it. So we start off 2012 recovering, being well and looking forward to living well.

During one of my daughter’s hospital stays, I had the opportunity to share how I hear with a senior resident. He said they tend to go over cochlear implants fairly quickly in medical school and he was truly interested in how I hear with them. He was genuinely surprised at how well I hear. The conversation moved along without any phrases like “pardon me” or “I’m sorry, what did you say?” The doctor admitted that had no one told him, he would not have been able to tell that I don’t have natural hearing. It was fun to share with him and I enjoy every opportunity to educate medical professionals. Fortunately that conversation took place when the doctor and his team were preparing to discharge my daughter and things were looking up that day.

It was approximately a month later, on Christmas morning, that I was in the emergency room with another daughter and her son. Her husband was unable to go with her because he was sick and we were taking their one month old baby boy, Jared, to the hospital. I was glad I was able to be there for them. It is hard when they are so young and blood draws and an IV are needed. I watched as the RN explained to Paula, my daughter, how hard it can be to get an IV into a baby and that often they have to try twice. Upon hearing this I immediately began to pray for Jared asking God to bless the nurse’s skill and help her to get it the first time so that this precious baby boy only had to be poked once.

Paula was helping to hold Jared and I was sitting in a chair at the side of the room. The nurse had her back to me and I had my head down praying. After giving it to God, I sat there just listening and waiting. The nurse and lab tech were taking there time with the process. When I sensed the RN was ready I was holding my breath. Before I took in any air, I heard her say, “Well there is your Christmas present. That is a Christmas miracle right there!” The IV was in on the first try. I sighed a prayer of relief, “Thank You Jesus,” and then I smiled for Jared. When I realized how well I had heard the nurse I smiled again and sent another thank you to the Lord for my hearing. A little while later, a diagnosis was made and Jared was admitted to the hospital for treatment. He was discharged after three days and continued to recover at home.

On a daily basis, I experience the extreme of complete silence to being able to hear most everything once my AB cochlear implant processors are on.  You would think after ten years that I wouldn’t still be amazed by this, but I am. I will never take my hearing, my health, or the health of my family for granted. Now that I have had some recent reminders of how precious all that is, I will try to remember to thank the Lord for it all every day.

Ten Years Ago

Ten years ago today I was healing from my first cochlear implant surgery and waiting for my activation day. I was recovered enough to go back to work and since my job did not require phone communication, I was back at my desk doing proofing and data entry. I was living in complete silence with hope that the cochlear implant would ease my struggles with communication.

It was just another day to pass while waiting for the big activation day. The waiting was hard as my mind was filled with constant wondering about what hearing with a cochlear implant was going to be like. The distraction of work was a good thing until there was a change in the people around me. I could see them talking, but nobody would tell me what was going on. The co-worker next to me was crying and though she was usually willing to talk to me so I could read her lips, she was unable to even look at me and tell me what was going on - until she was able to say, “Paula is okay.” My daughter Paula is a flight attendant with United Airlines.

After my mother-in-law had called the office and told the receptionist to tell me that she talked with Paula and that she was on the ground in Cincinnati, my co-workers then did their best to tell me what was happening. Some of them decided to leave work early so I did too. I wanted to know more about what was going on and I needed a TV with closed captioning and the comfort of familiar communication with family. At home, I watched in silence the horrors of the attacks and the updates the media provided. The captioning on my TV being my link to the world.

Today, I remember the horror of September 11, 2001. I pray for my country and my fellow Americans and find comfort in the tributes and memorials created in the process of healing. As I reflect on all this, I am reminded how far our souls travel from sadness to joy and silence to sound. 

Getting off the Roller Coaster

Something wonderful happens to people after they have had their cochlear implants for a while. They get on with life!

As a late-deafened adult and cochlear implant recipient, I know the emotional roller coaster of losing one’s hearing; the life and relationship issues that go with that; and finally the high of getting sound back. Definitely “emotional roller coaster” is the right descriptive phrase.

Have you ever ridden a roller coaster? What can you do when you are riding one? About all you can do is ride. You might talk with the person next to you, laugh, or yell, or scream, but you won’t be composing a report or holding a meeting.

As my hearing loss progressed, I participated in life less and less. I quit going to movies, parties or anything that involved a large noisy group or a large room that might echo sound. I stopped using the phone and pretty much limited my communication to family and close friends. Anything beyond that was intimidating, like standing up in a roller coaster. If I had to be on this ride, then I was going to stay seated in my little box and hang on so I felt safe. I might look at the scenery once in a while, but it was easier not to.

I like the feeling of getting off a roller coaster. That first step of putting solid ground under your feet feels so reassuring. I love looking around and being able to walk away and put some distance between me and a ride that I don’t like.

With my cochlear implants, I can get off the ride. I’ve got the ground under my feet again. I can walk away and join the world for the day and I don’t have to get back on until the sun is down and the roller coaster sleeps.

It is fun though, especially when you don’t like a ride, to go on the ride with friends. I attended my first Hearing Loss Association of America (HLAA) convention this year in June. It was a wonderful experience and the first time I really enjoyed the ride, the hearing loss roller coaster. When we get on the roller coaster together, we hug, we smile, we share the ride and we laugh!

I have noticed that many of the friends I have made through my blog, the Bionic Ear Association, the HLAA and the online forum, Hearing Journey, are getting off the roller coaster and walking away. They have other things to do and lives to live. What a wonderful thing this is!

I Can't Hear You

I am the oldest of five. For the most part, my siblings and I share similar political beliefs. Unfortunately, our parents seem to feel quite the opposite, so if we happen to end up talking politics at a family gathering, a heated discussion may escalate into a shouting match. We are learning to avoid certain subjects.

Last time I was visiting my parents, while my mother and I were preparing breakfast, the conversation started dancing around a sensitive subject. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I happened to announce where I stood on the issue. My dad didn’t agree and started on a tirade denouncing what I believe. Immediately I regretted having said anything but I was not going to back down. My mother was getting uncomfortable and wanted everyone to stop - which was fine with me, but dad was not getting the message. I was at the kitchen sink wiping a dish and dad had his back to me. I decided to give him the message visually. I put the dish down, wiped my hands, walked around to get in front of him and when he was looking at me, I reached up and with exaggeration I knocked my CI headpieces down to my shoulders. He got it. He looked at me and his mouth stopped moving. There I was in my silence feeling like a naughty child. I didn’t enjoy disrespecting my father, and I didn’t enjoy being disrespected.

I have shared the story of that incident with my girls and one of them said she finds herself wondering how many children with cochlear implants or hearing aids, have, or eventually will, take their hearing off in the face of being scolded or lectured. I suppose it is the equivalent of a hearing child plugging her ears with her fingers and taunting, “I can’t hear you.” With a CI it is much more dramatic and effective - but still naughty.

HLAA

I have been thinking about this for awhile and I finally decided to go to the HLAA Convention in Milwaukee in June. I have never been to one before and I'm really looking forward to it.

Last spring I attended a mentor training for the Bionic Ear Association. That was the first time I was part of a group with the commonality of hearing loss. I really enjoyed the feeling of kinship and continue to enjoy the friendships that developed. I'm really looking forward to this convention and hanging out with my friends.

A Book Review - "Wired for Sound"

I recently finished reading Wired for Sound: a journey into hearing by Beverly Biderman. Beverly writes about her personal experiences as a person with severe to profound hearing loss who chooses to pursue receiving a cochlear implant when it becomes available to her. An excellent author, she also writes beyond her own experience and eloquently shares information about deaf issues as well as technical issues regarding hearing with cochlear implants. Some of the technical information is becoming outdated as this book was written over ten years ago, but as a history of the development of cochlear implants most of the information still applies. This is a very good book that covers a lot of territory regarding deafness and regaining sound. I recommend this book for anyone contemplating getting a cochlear implant.

Morning Light

From the silence of my night
I wake to morning light
I don’t begin to hear
Till my CI is on my ear
I sleep without sound
I can’t hear a barking hound
So my days begin
Not with an alarm’s din
But from the streaming light
Of a morning sky so bright
It reaches to my eyes
In the bed where my head lies
And wakes me
So that I might see
This day

Fast Talkers

I know that I’m fortunate that I am a cochlear implant user that can use the phone and is no longer afraid to answer it. I really do as well as most hearing people. Today I spoke with a person that spoke so fast I don’t know how anybody could understand her.

Really fast talking should be against the law. These people should be cited and fined for saying more than eight syllables per second and should not be allowed to work a business phone if they talk so fast you think they may be speaking in a different language.

When I could not understand the name of the company she was calling from, I felt like I was having flashbacks to the days when I started giving up on communicating on the phone. She wanted my business ID number, so I figured it was an employee of one of my clients and I had to make sure I knew who I was talking to before I gave out this sensitive information.

I gave in to something I now do only when I have to and told her I hear with cochlear implants and that I needed her to slow down. “Okay,” she said and then she said the name of her company again - and I missed it. Unh. I hate this. She explained what form she needed filled out and I got that. Did I have a fax number she could send it to? “Yes, I do,” I said and then I asked her again to tell me what company she was calling from. Out it came and I could practically see it speed past my ears and out of reach before I could make out what it was. Aaaaahhhhh! I was getting really frustrated, but I tried to keep a smile on my face and calmly asked her again to tell me the name of her company. Swish, there it went and I had to ask her again. I took a breath and politely told her I missed it again, could she please say it one more time and then I focused and hoped I would catch it this time. She said it again and slowed it down just enough that I got the first two words and I said, “Oh! it’s ____ _____ _____. Thank You.” What a relief.

This is the stuff that wears on my confidence. Fortunately there was quite a bit of the conversation that I did get, so I know that it wasn’t all me. Sometimes I wonder, can they really listen and hear as fast as they can talk?

Trusting My Ears

We had our piano tuned in November. When the girls come home, they enjoy playing some of their favorite songs as well as Christmas music and complain if the piano hasn’t been tuned, so this year I did manage to get the tuning scheduled and done.

While trimming the Christmas tree, I started thinking about the Christmas concert at the high school and the tradition they have carried out for many years of singing “Beautiful Savior” to close the concert. They invite choir alumni on stage to sing this hymn with the present choir and then the audience is invited to join in for the final verse.

I was never a soloist, but I participated in choir at high school and church through my junior year. Now with my cochlear implants, I have been trying to listen to my own voice and get the confidence back to sing. Since the piano had recently been tuned, I decided to pick out the melody of “Beautiful Savior” and try matching my voice to the notes. My thoughts were, “My piano is in tune, my hearing is great with my cochlear implants, this should work.”

As I picked my way through the first verse, I felt I was doing pretty good at matching my voice to the notes, but it sounded a bit off. I stopped singing and played the melody one note at a time and one spot sounded off to me, so I played the top two notes at a time, still off. Because I was unsure if I could trust my digital ears to be an accurate judge of whether or not a piano is in tune, I asked my husband when he came home to listen to the notes I was playing and tell me what he thought. To my surprise he said, “Yep, that one note sounds like it could be a little off.”

I emailed our piano tuner and he said he would come back and check it out. Our piano was Paul’s mother’s and is quite old. This piano has not been tuned regularly in the past ten years so it is not unusual for the tuning not to hold. The piano tuner came back, made some adjustments and now it sounds as good as the old piano can.

I have known for a while now that I would prefer a new digital piano and someday I hope to have one. From this old piano I learned that my new hearing is pretty awesome and I can trust what I think I hear. I remember the notes and how they are suppose to sound and my brain sings in tune. Now if my ears and my brain and my voice would all work together - maybe I could be that soloist I have always wanted to be. (*Dream*)

Beautiful Blogger Award

Beautiful Blogger Award & Nominations!

Speak Up Librarian nominated me for this award and I am honored. Thank you Speak Up Librarian.

Now here's my job:
The rules:
1) Thank the person who nominated me for this award.
2) Copy the award & place it on my blog.
3) Link to the person who nominated me for this award.
4) Tell us 7 interesting things about yourself.
5) Nominate 7 bloggers.
6) Post links to the 7 blogs I nominate.

Okay, here we go. I may be repeating some nominations, but it can't be helped.

(1) Speak Up Librarian - It is always a joy to read her reviews of books or television shows, check out her pictures and share her thoughts about the challenges of being hearing impaired.

(2) Mog Renewed - Has shared her journey from choosing to get a cochlear implant, waiting for the day and now discovering the sound it brings her. She punctuates this with delightful pictures and ancedotes.

(3) Jelly - You know you will get cupcakes, but the variety is a constant surprise!

(4) My CI is Amazing - A friend that I met on another forum, she shares her experience and offers her caring support to others with the same hearing challenges.

(5) Laura's Medical Journey - Another brave woman facing challenges with a great attitude and sense of humor.

(6) Surround Sound - A cochlear implant user and busy Mom that shares her hearing experiences and supports others in their hearing journeys.

(7) Elliott's Journey - Ellliott's mom does a great job of sharing their journey as her adorable son learns and lives life with his cochlear implants.

"Tell us 7 interesting things about yourself"

Interesting, hhmmm, is that one of those things that's in the eyes of the beholder?

(1) I was a Brownie, then a Girl Scout and finally a Cadet.

(2) I sang in the church and school choirs until my last year in high school when I failed to make the Concert Choir.

(3) I wanted to be a Wave in the Navy, but by the age of 18 my hearing loss had progressed to the point where I couldn't pass the physical.

(4) I had a motorcycle when I was 19.

(5) After a van hit me when I was driving my motorcycle, I traded it in for a Fiat X19 (2 seater sports car) - I loved that car!

(6) From the time I started thinking I would be a mother someday, I always knew I would have three girls. I just knew.

(7) The man I married was my kindergarten sweetheart. He kissed me at the drinking fountain and I told the teacher!

Thanksgiving

I have been trying for several days to put into words

The thankfulness I feel, for all that I have heard

The words keep escaping me

They never seem enough

So it seemed there was only one thing left

A picture of my cup.

This Is Who I Am

Sometimes a dream can seem so real that when you wake up you wonder if it happened. I had a dream like that last night and what I dreamt is impossible, but it seemed so real. I dreamt that my husband was leaving for work, on his way down the stair he said over his shoulder, “Good-bye,” and I responded, “Good-bye,” and then it hit me, I didn’t have my processors on. I said, “I heard that!” and Paul, knowing that I wasn’t hooked up, turned right around and came back upstairs. He was talking to me and I was repeating back to him what he was saying almost word for word. I would miss one now and then, but still we were thinking how could this be? 

After I was completely awake and thinking about this dream I realized it was like dreams I had after I quit smoking. I would dream that I smoked and then in the morning wonder if I did. I didn’t want to start again so I would be relieved that it was just a dream. I guess we dream about what we miss and I think I was missing those spontaneous moments that happen at the beginning or end of the day when I might not have my hearing prothesis on.

This dream surprised me and it feels like it came at an odd time. On the last Saturday we spent at our cabin before closing it up for the winter season, I felt like I had crossed a threshold. I got up that morning and Paul was preparing to take the boat to the storage place. He indicated that he was leaving and I knew I had at least an hour to myself. My normal routine in the morning is to get ready for the day and get my hearing on first thing. On this particular morning, knowing I didn’t need to communicate with anyone for awhile, I decided to relax in my comfortable pajamas, and linger over breakfast and coffee while I enjoyed the vision of the lake outside my window. Sitting in the silence, I came to realize that I have finally found peace with my deafness. 

It is okay. This is who I am.

I am a woman who puts on her hearing in the morning

and takes it off at night. 

I am a woman who sleeps in total silence

and wakes to the morning light. 

When I look out the window to see what kind of day it will be, 

I may notice the birds in the branches of a nearby tree.

I need not wonder if they are chirping or singing a song,

even though I knew their silence many years long.

It is now in my blessings a matter of choice,

If I want to hear birdsongs or the beautiful human voice.

The sounds of life are mine to have no matter the place,

And the silence is mine to choose, to reject or embrace.

A Gutsy Girl

I first met Kristin on Hearing Journey. Today her cochlear implant is being activated. Kristin's road to this day has been bumpy due to other health issues and she has hurdled or gone around every road block. To read her story go to The Telegraph Hearing Blog.

Choosing a Cochlear Implant

You are at a point in your life where you have to make a life altering decision and choose a cochlear implant either for yourself or your child. Where do you start?

I had to make that decision eight years ago. After going through all the testing and qualifying for the cochlear implant, the audiologist gave me all the brochures he had from each of the companies and answered the questions I had that day. An appointment was then scheduled with a surgeon.

While the surgeon was willing to answer any questions l had about each appliance, he would not advise me in a way that indicated any favoritism of one company’s product over another’s. We picked the date for the surgery and then he said, “You will have to let us know which implant you want two weeks before the surgery.”  

Whether they realized it or not, both the audiologist and the surgeon gave me body language clues as to which product they thought was the best at the time. Since I was good at reading visual communication due to my hearing loss, those clues did not get past me.

Armed with my brochures, the answers I got from my audiologist and surgeon, I went home to read and discuss with my husband which implant to choose.

Eight years ago, that is what I had to work with to make my decision. I had to rely on the integrity of the companies whose brochures were going to tell me all about their cochlear implant. I knew what was most important to me and I was able to figure out which implant I wanted. I know I made the right decision and I am very happy with my cochlear implants and the company that makes them.

In the time that has passed since I had to choose a cochlear implant, independent studies have taken place and now a person trying to figure out which cochlear implant to choose has more information available to them when making their decision. The key here is to make sure you have an independent report and not a report that has been construed to favor a company that didn’t do well in the study.

Advanced Bionics made my cochlear implants. I received my first one in 2001 and had the other side done in 2007. The number one thing on my list when I was choosing my first implant was the ability to upgrade without surgery; to have an implant with internal technology that would grow with the science and that is what I have. There is six years between my two implants and I have modern cutting-edge technology on both sides and love the hearing I get with my two implants. My older implant was able to upgrade to the technology I was getting with my newer model on the other side. How great is that? 

For anyone making the decision today, it is still a difficult decision with even more information to peruse. As I learn more about the technology and advances, I know that Advanced Bionics would still be my choice today.

Click here to read an excellent and well researched article about choosing an implant.

Vaulted Ceilings and Wood Floors

Where I live, the popular home design for quite a while now has been vaulted ceilings and wood floors. I cannot think of another design in home planning that is more unfriendly to the hearing impaired except maybe smooth tile with vaulted ceilings. 

I really enjoy hearing with my cochlear implants and in most situations I hear very well. In my own home I have a combination of carpet and brick tile and my ceilings are flat and eight feet high. Sound doesn’t bounce or echo like it does in homes that I have been in with wood floors and vaulted ceilings. 

I find these homes to be so irritating the way sound bounces around that it is getting difficult for me to enjoy going to the homes of friends or family with vaulted ceilings and smooth floors. I don’t want to limit my social life again due to hearing issues when it seems like I have just gotten it back, but more and more I find myself in this situation as friends and family buy or build new homes.

Why are acoustics in home design ignored? Why is this design so popular? The world is  noisy enough without creating a situation in your home where noise is amplified. Do others think about the acoustics in their home or is it all about big space?

In my home I want cozy, warm, conversational space. No vaulted ceilings or floors that bounce sound for me.

It Feels Good to Feel Normal

Yesterday was eventful with two experiences to remind me how fortunate I am to have hearing with my cochlear implants.

It started out with a trip to the grocery store. I was driving down Main street when I noticed a motorcycle behind me. I “see” motorcycles because I used to have one and I try to be very aware as I was hit by an unaware driver on mine. So, I was keeping an eye on this guy as we left the changed light to move through the next block. Half way up the block I decided to take a right turn at the next light and I needed to change lanes. As I was preparing to signal and move over, I “heard” the motorcycle’s engine rev up and sure enough the impatient driver decided to pass me on the right. It was a stupid and unsafe move on his part that could have ended in an accident if I had not “heard” him because he moved into a blind spot and I would not have seen him. It was also ridiculous on his part as we both ended up waiting at the same light half a block ahead.

After the relief of a near miss, I was quite angered at this motorcycle driver as it is his kind of driving that gives motorcycle enthusiasts a bad rep and leads to accidents. If I would have had the opportunity to tell him so, I would have.

Next on my agenda yesterday was a trip to my audiologist to participate in a study regarding cochlear implant use. That involves a 40 mile drive to another city. I was ready early and thinking about leaving early when I decided to read the newspaper instead. Funny how the timing of things sometimes works out to put us in a certain place  at a certain time.

After reading the newspaper, I headed out. I was barely out of town on a county road heading for the highway when the SUV in front of me crossed into the oncoming lane, came back across both lanes, went into the ditch and rolled completely over. As I was pulling over, I was reaching into my purse for my cell phone and was on the line with 911 in a matter of seconds. I didn’t think, “Will I be able to hear them? Can I do this?” I just did. Another car pulled over and the man asked if I was on the line with 911 and I said, “Yes.” He proceeded ahead of me to the car to check on the driver. She appeared to be fine with only minor injuries. I stayed on the line with 911 to give them directions to where we were. 

Before my CI, I might have hit the motorcycle. Deaf people are very good drivers, but without sound we rely solely on our vision. Also before my CI, I wouldn’t have had a cell phone to call 911 after witnessing the rollover. I still would have stopped to help, but my assistance would have been very restrained by my limited communication.

It was a dramatic day with a roller coaster of emotions: relief, anger, shock, concerned panic, and relief again. As I finally calmed, relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the day, I thought, “It feels good to feel normal.”

Name That Kitty

This is my cat. We brought him home in June of 1995 when he was about six weeks old. With five family members trying to come up with just the right name and not agreeing on anything, he lived with us for three days as “Kitty.” At that point, I just thought it was terrible that we had not named him yet, so I began to question the family to try to come up with something. I could not hear him, so I asked, “What does he sound like?” My husband and kids said he had kind of a high pitched, squeaky meow, and since he was a kitty, that description seemed right to me. Mittens, Streak, Phantom, none of the names we were coming up with seemed to suit him.

On the evening of the third day, my youngest daughter was playing with our still unnamed kitty when an advertisement for an Elvis CD came on the television. At that point, I suggested to the family, “Should we name him Elvis?” There were no objections, only smiles. So the kitty finally had a name, Elvis.

When we got Elvis I was wearing the strongest analog hearing aids I could be fitted with, but I could not hear my new kitten’s meow. He was a cute, playful kitten, so I enjoyed everything else about him; his adorable face, pretty eyes and really soft fur. I did not hear Elvis until after I was hooked-up with my first cochlear implant in September of 2001 when he was six years old.

Elvis is 14 now and I have listened to him greet, complain, beg, scold and give his opinion for eight years now and I am grateful for every “meow” I hear. He still has a high-pitched squeaky meow and he likes to use his voice. If I could have heard him when we were naming him, he might be called “Squeak”.