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.”

Final Meow

I didn't know when I was writing about hearing Elvis that I would soon be saying good-bye. Our beloved pet had developed a tumor on his liver and stomach. We said good-bye today and sent him to his rest.

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”.

Pots and Pans Band

We opened up our lake cabin Mother’s Day weekend. My daughter, son-in-law and two grandsons surprised us with a last minute decision to join us for the weekend. It was really great and we had a good time.

It was especially nice for Paul to have some help putting in the dock and the grandson’s desire to go for a boat ride was a great motivator to get the boats in the water and running. It was a wonderful start to what I hope will be a sunny and warm summer.

This first weekend though was a bit cool and kept the boys inside more. We don’t keep a lot of toys at the cabin, so it didn’t take long for the boys to start looking for new interests. I decided to pull out an old standby. The pots and pans band! I never would have done this when I was a hearing aid wearer. Hearing aids amplified the sound in such a way that some things were uncomfortable. The sound with my cochlear implants is so comfortably natural that I didn’t give the idea of the boys pounding away on pots and pans a second thought.

My daughter was a little puzzled when I said, “Isn’t it interesting how the different shapes of pans make such different sounds.” I reminded her there was a time when some sounds were all the same to me.

With wooden spoons in hand
The little boys tapped a pot then a pan
To their own rhythmless beat they did drum
Not yet a tune anyone could hum
But the joy of two boys and their make believe band playing the kitchen pots and pans!

Are You Listening?

My daughter called me this evening and she was frustrated with the communication in her family. She is married and has a step-daughter age 11 and two boys 5 and 15 months. She was frustrated with her husband’s and 5-year-old son’s listening skills, or lack of. She also felt like they were indicating that she was the one that was unrealistic with her expectations.

We talked at length about why she has the expectations that she has and of course I don’t think they are unrealistic, but they are different from her husband’s for obvious reasons. She grew up with a hearing impaired parent and he did not. We practiced communication courtesies that other households can get by without.

When my girls were growing up, as my hearing worsened over the years, we, as a family, had to make adjustments. It became impossible for me to understand what a person was saying if I could not see his or her face. We stopped the practice of a raised voice trying to get someone’s attention from another room. Although the girls sometimes tried to get me to come to them with a loud, “MOM,” we worked on enforcing the rule that if they had something to say to me, they had to come to me. In return, when I could, I stopped what I was doing and listened.

Going to another room in the house or up the stairs to talk with someone may not sound like such a big deal, or stopping to listen, but if you have to stop what you are doing every time one of your 3 children needs to talk to you, a simple task like cleaning up the dinner dishes can take 3 times longer than it would if you could talk while you work. I remember many evenings when the dinner conversation continued on into clean up time and stopping half way to the dishwasher with dishes in my hands to look at the daughter that was speaking to me. Sometimes, it felt like this simple chore took up half the evening.

There is a plus side though. The benefits of our focused communication far outweighed the increased time it took to get some things done. My girls knew when they had my attention, because I would be looking right at them. Wondering if I heard what they said was rare because they usually had to confirm it during the conversation. Distractions were not allowed because then I would not be able to hear, so the TV was muted or off and there was no background music playing on the radio or cd player. One complaint or argument you never heard in our household was, “You never listen to me!” We listened intently.

Our children’s teen years were not without problems. We were just like everyone else, but I think more tuned in. This allowed us to recognize problems early on. My keen sense of body language allowed me to realize when there were health issues that needed attention and might have gone unnoticed in a family with different dynamics. In this respect, my hearing loss was a blessing.

I’m sure you have heard it before and I’m sure you will hear it again, “communication is key in healthy relationships.” It is not too much to expect to be listened to.

Stunning - Susan Boyle

I have watched this YouTube piece several times now and I just can't seem to get enough. Like Piers says, this woman's performance of "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables is stunning. As Amanada said, it truly is a privilege to hear that , and the faces that Simon makes are priceless. He is fun to watch when he is impressed.

It is such an incredible joy to be able to "hear" a performance like that. To be able to hear the pureness of each note, the accent and the dynamics she put into her presentation. Watching the YouTube piece left me wanting more and I will definitely be watching for more from Susan Boyle.

It also left me feeling, once again, very grateful for my bionic ear; for the advances that have been made in inventions and medicine that allow me to hear with this amazing quality. All I have to do to know the alternative is take off my processors and there I am in the silence. What a relief and a blessing that I don't have to live the rest of my life in that place.

The title links to a closed captioned version of Susan Boyle's performance so you don't have to miss the dialogue. The button to turn on the closed captioning is the arrow pointing up in the lower right hand corner of the video window. If you decide to take a look, I hope you enjoy the performance as much as I did.

Spring Song

I started spring cleaning yesterday. It is not warm enough to open the windows yet, so I was working in my closed up house dusting out window sills when I heard his song. The male cardinal singing to his girl. It is such a beautiful song and I could hear it through the window. Wow - I could hear it through the window with my bionic ears.

We have a pair of cardinals that seem to come back here each spring. Last year I almost succeeded in getting a good picture of the male and this year I plan to. He is beautiful with his bright red feathers. His girl is a little harder to spot. With nature's natural protection for the mother of the offspring, she has browner feathers and blends in with the trees. I love watching these two flit around our yard and even better, I love that I can hear them. 

With the joyful sounds, come the annoying sounds and when I hear the squawking of the blackbird, I smile to myself and think, "Ah, yes, I must hear him too." And I remember when I couldn't hear him at all and I thank God for the blackbird's call.

It seems that I write about hearing birds a lot. With my hearing loss starting in the high frequencies, they were one of the first sounds that I lost, so I didn't hear them for over 20 years. It wasn't something that I dwelled on or thought a lot about, but since I have gotten that hearing back, I simply cannot take it for granted and continue to be amazed.

It is finally spring and with it comes nature's choir. Sometimes it is the hard rock of a blackbird's squawk, or the simple twitter of a sparrow, or the beautiful song of a bright red cardinal singing to his girl.