Bionic Travels: "What's That?"

My frequent inquiry of family and friends has shifted from “What?” to “What’s that?” Communicating with me has required a great deal of patience for many years (much to the chagrin of the teenagers I raised during those years.)  I was more than a little worried about the patience that would be required of people now that I’m wearing this cochlear implant. The comments 15 days after my CI activation are nothing short of miraculous:

“You are hearing me.”

“I don’t have to talk as loud now.”

“I asked you that question from upstairs and you answered me.”

“Wow! You can hear me! I’m so happy!” x3 in the same 30 minute conversation

“I’m talking in a normal voice.”

“Did you realize…..?”

All those comments = no one feeling impatient with my constant new question:  “What’s that?”

I am a pretty quick study in most things (statistics, chemistry and calculus aside), but I didn’t expect to be ‘a quick study’ with this CI. Don’t tell my audi, but I’m not really even practicing. All I have done is watch three pilot TV shows on Netflix: Glee, Ugly Betty and Switched at Birth, the later one being brand new to me. I want to see it again and see how well I can follow the signing. I am seriously behind the times in the TV department, but I don't care.  My assignment was to watch shows with closed captions and wearing only my CI (and pants or a dress, of course.) That I did.  I can understand what’s being said, but I’m well practiced in closed captioning, so it’s tricky to know how my brain is being trained. (Trained by Glee and Ugly Betty? Scary, indeed.) 

The question at hand relates to environmental sounds. It’s a noisy world we live in!  I understand how deaf individuals might not want to enter the hearing world.  I have always heard voices (no comments please) and environmental sounds, just not very well for about 15 years. Some of them faded out completely. The ones that abandoned me are the ones I am starting to ask about.

“What’s that?”

“A blue jay, Andi.”

“What’s that?”

“A blue jay, Andi.”

“What’s that?”

“A blue jay, Andi.”

Not a typo.  Just one day’s requirement of patience from my family.

“Was that a bullfrog?” I asked walking towards Lake Erie from the Sheldon Marsh parking lot the other day. You’ve passed it on the way to Cedar Point, btw. But, most people are drooling over elephant ears and waiting in line for two hours for the latest and greatest roller coaster. Me? Turning off at Sheldon Marsh to wander a long the beach with dead fish and dune plants, but that’s my next blog entry….

So, I say, “Was that a bullfrog?” 

“No, Andi, that’s a jet ski.”

When in doubt, always assume the best of the situation, right?  Bullfrogs trump jet skis in my book any day! The point is, I heard something and I could not see anything!  The list continues to grow. This is good and why my insurance company invested a bazillion dollars in me and my surgeon’s new Ferrari.

“What’s that?” 

A siren (those are the worst and hardest to discern.)

A bird (but it doesn’t sound like a bird.)

The living room clock (really weird chimes.)

The kids across the street (strange squeaks, but it’s something.)

A clock (in the art studio… what IS that incessant ticking sound? A radiator? A table creaking? Something at the window? I looked at the second hand on the clock. Ticking. Oh.)

Leaves rustling in the wind (oh, happy me!!!!) 

The electric tea kettle signal (just barely, but if I pay attention…)

The trash truck down the street (you take the bad with the good.) 

My shoe squeaking when I walk (Julie is the most patient BFF in the universe as she has endured hundreds of miles walking with me while my shoes squeaked, me having never heard it!)

The grass growing after the summer rain (ha! Just kidding… my audi hasn’t turned on my Earth Goddess Setting yet—that’s next week. I am totally going to ask for the Celtic Fairy Setting too)

I’m asking “What” a lot less and Julie suspects that my emotional life may rise from the Ashes of Cluelessness as I am willing to reengage with humans after withdrawing for many, many years.  I don’t want to give up my solitude entirely, but knowing I can be friendly again will be good.  My years of being sort of ‘snooty’ may be coming to an end, but that’s fodder for another blog entry.

Until then, be nice when I ask “What’s that?!” Please don’t tell me it’s a rare peregrine falcon lost in the neighborhood looking for its mother when it’s only a chipping sparrow. OK?