One year ago today, I went to the Johns Hopkins Listening Center in Baltimore so I could get a cochlear implant. It wasn't a difficult operation--I've suffered way more having a tooth pulled at the dentist's office. I spent the night in a great little hotel in Baltimore, too, not the hospital.
But what a difference a year makes! This morning, I've spent the past hour or so on the phone, chatting first with Cathy, then Peggy and Sean over in Scotland, then Sally (who was on the way to get bagels and will call back soon).
Last year after the implant i couldn't hear a thing. (They didn't turn it on for another six weeks, and they suggested that I not wear a hearing aid on the other ear.)
Yesterday I had lunch with a delightful young audiologist who is testing adult CI users to see which kinds of rehab listening exercises work best. She told me the results of my initial testing session two weeks ago and was feeling a little chagrined. I did so well--getting virtually 100% on every test, meaning I heard dang near everything--that she either has to kick me off the research or get permission from the university to redesign the research (make it harder to listen) for me.
Last April, on the day they activated my CI, one of the first things I heard was birds in the Listening Center driveway. I also heard the doorman's whistle when he summoned a cab for us. Sally and Cathy went with me to Baltimore for turn-on day, and on the train home, I could hear them talking, but it did not sound like human speech. When I got home, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing and the rustle of my clothing when I moved. This year, my brain has learned to ignore these very basic background sounds unless I pay attention to them specifically. Instead, I can hear the radiator hissing beside me and the birds singing in the tree outside my window, and traffic on the street out front. I can hear somebody walking down the stairs to the lobby, and I've got the phone in my lap for when Sally calls back.
I remember how scared I was at the prospect of that operation, and how impatient I was when it didn't seem the process was working fast enough. Now I take it for granted that I can hear. It's nice to have days like today when I can remember how it used to be when I could not hear so I can give thanks now that I can.
How absolutely magical for you, to be able to hear everyday sounds like the birds singing, the traffic going by, and especially to speak on the phone with your family who are living so far away.
ReplyDeleteI'm so pleased for you.
We take our senses for granted... until it's not there any more.
My dad was deaf all my life. I don't know what age he was when he started losing his hearing, but it was before I was born. Maybe it was something that could have been corrected if he had lived in this era of modern medical miracles. He had a hearing aid that he used very selectively... he could quietly turn it down when anyone he didn't have patience for was visiting. Before the hearing aid, we all had to shout at him which made him cross.
Happy Anniversary to your hearing! We are toasting your ability to hear with homemade root beer! Woo hoo!
ReplyDeleteIt was great to talk to you on the phone today. I keep forgetting that I can phone you now.
m.e., as always a wonderful reflection from you. such a leap forward in the past year. now we could talk on the phone too!
ReplyDeletehas hearing changed anythng else for you? maybe i also mean the knowing that you can hear having an impact on unexpected things.
yours with large, loud good wishes,
naomi
Here's to modern medicine! And to the good new days! the DN
ReplyDeleteex-shammy: i dint know your dad was deaf. did you sign with him at all? most deaf people don't know sign, which is why it burns me up so much that the deaf culture folks are INSISTING on this for EVERYBODY. doesn't fit for everybody.
ReplyDeletepeggy: yes, hoist a glass of the best for me and for all of us. it was so wonderful to talk with you guys yesterday. sean has such a great adult voice...
NDB: what's changed besides the simple fact of being able to hear now is something i haven't quite got a handle on yet: all the things i did to cope with/compensate for being unable to hear no longer serve me as well or in precisely the same way. i'm having to unlearn being reclusive, for one, although there's nothing wrong with being reclusive. it's just not the path i would have taken had i been able to hear for the past 44+ years. cathy says i'm the most outgoing of inverts. what i'm finding is that i truly NEED to go back to meditating. that doesn't sound like i'm making any progress against being a loner. but that's where it's taking me. onward! and yes, we can talk on the fone now. let's!!
dear niece: praise be for all the scientists toiling in their labs!
oops...actually, cathy said i am the most outgoing of INTROVERTS. heh
ReplyDeleteI love hearing anniversaries! :) Happy anniversary XE :)
ReplyDeleteCongrats! Love, H
ReplyDeleteHappy Anniversary, M.E.!!! What a very happy one this is! I hoped so hard that you'd get great results from your implant, but was worried due to the amount of time you'd been deaf. How happy I am that you're getting the kick-ass results you are in testing!
ReplyDeleteI also just love hearing birds again, and I especially love hearing crickets on summer nights. The littlest sounds are the sweetest when you re-acquire them.
Congratulations on the anniversary!
ronnie
Yes congrats congrats...so glad and grateful. Squeak, too.
ReplyDeleteCathy