Bionic Travels: Personalized Programming

My VERY EXPENSIVE implant comes with a fancy remote control.  Our audiologists program these remotes so we can tune our CIs to the current hearing situation. The standard programs work well, but I thought they were a little boring: Everyday. Noise. Focus. Music.

My last blog post mentions that my audi is a little low on the W/F scale, so I was hesitant to present to her the list of the programs I NEED to hear in my life situations. If I am going to be BIONIC, then my programs need to reflect this. How is “Everyday” bionic, I ask? 

I have previously mentioned that I was hoping for the Metaphysical Ancestral Communication program. In particular, I would like to say “Hi” to my mom, happily residing at Table with friends and family in heaven. She knew I was heading in the CI direction and it was she who ‘offered’ me this opportunity through our shared genes. But, alas, my audi denied me this program.  I must ask Jesus to say “Hi” to her for me. That works, but I was hoping for a more direct line.

I love being outdoors and I figured The Earth Goddess program would enable me to hear the grass grow. I’d also enjoy personalized weather reports, a mosquito alert system, and automatic birdcall recognition. But again--denied.

Keeping is simple, I thought the Simultaneous Translation program would be easily accessed.  I want to visit my cousins in Hungary, so Hungarian is on my list since it’s such a difficult language.  Why not just add Romanian, Icelandic and French? How hard can it BE??  

My idea of Bionic encompasses all those things plus the ability to chat with the fairies who will soon be visiting all the little ceramic houses I have been making for them.  The Celtic Fairie program would cover that.  And, the Narnian Animal Language program?  Perfect for telling our resident deer family that, while they are cute and generally behave politely, the late night Tulip Tasting Sessions need to end. The Narnian Owls and their awesome hearing abilities are close by. I know they are. If only I could reach out to them….

Boldly I showed my audi my list.  She said with a grin, “I’ll pass this onto Cochlear and see what they can do.”  That means all I can do it wait and be content with Everyday. Noise. Focus. Music.  Stay tuned….

Bionic Travels: Mapping #3

The noisy world is getting noisier.  Those around me are growing happier.  I am feeling freer.  The cochlear implant bill was $97,422.14.  A small price to pay for a freer, happier, nosier world??   Time will tell once the insurance company decides that they actually DID give pre approval for this procedure which they apparently  have ‘forgotten’ at this point.  Don’t get me started on health care….

That aside. This device is starting to work the miracles I was promised. It’s been fast for me because I had hearing up until surgery. Not much, but enough that I knew what voices sounded like even though I could no longer discern words very well.  Three weeks past activation, I’m understanding more than I have in YEARS!  It’s truly remarkable.  I focus mostly on voices because I could have lived without the newly noticed squeaky windshield wipers and the sounds of emptying water from the clothes washer which sounds as if it is flooding the house… Those would NOT have been worth $97,422.14. Relationships are.

Dave offered a profound insight the other day. For a long time he has been consciously and subconsciously making a choice every time he wanted to say something to me:  “Should I bother with this comment or thought? Is it worth repeating until she gets it?”  As an extrovert, he determined that is a good question to ask oneself all the time, regardless; but when it becomes necessary to calculate every word with one’s wife, that’s just a drag.  His impatience was leaking out though he really tried to seal the gaps. I did the best I could, but it was still hard. 

Many moons ago (four years ago when I first became a CI candidate) my audi said many a relationship has been rescued from the brink of despair by the hearing impaired person getting a CI.  I hear that.  (Pun intended and edited IN.) We were not near any brink, but it was a drag--on Dave, on the kids, on my friends, on my extended family, on anyone who had the audacity to try to telephone me, on the clerk at the ice cream store… Hard.  BUT NOT NOW.  At some point every day, someone close to me says the following (insert gleeful expressions) “You can hear me!!!” “I’m talking in a normal voice.”  “You heard that and I wasn’t looking at you!”

The clerks, mumbling into their cash registers, still get a blank stare from me, but I am actually feeling more confident to go out shopping without an interpreter. I’m a confident and active person so this was weird, but true.  I was tired of telling people with my clear, well articulated speech “I am functionally deaf, could you please speak more slowly. No, you don’t need to speak more loudly, but I have to figure out what you are saying blah, blah, blah…” I am feeling more free… like I could walk into a store all by fifty-something self and make a purchase without confusion!

And then there are restaurants.  I’ve avoided them since surgery July 8, but delivering our son to college last week I needed to eat and therefore had to venture into those noisy, scary places.  Chipotle?!  They obviously have no clue that hearing impaired people exist!!!  Or, if they do, they haven’t any interest in our cash! Line an entire restaurant in METAL?!  HA!!!  Our lunchtime foray into this bastion of college student feeding does not count on the “I could actually hear the waitress say something!” scale of small miracles.  But, the first night, I actually DID hear the waitress say something!  The next morning the timid waiter wasn’t really awake because I had to ask my Oh So Patient College Sophomore Son to interpret for me.  But, one out of three isn’t bad!

If you’re what I affectionately call a ‘quantoid’, you will be more fascinated with the following stats. These are oft rattled off by the CI wearing set, though I’m still behind the curve. When we get our hearing tested we get scored as far as how many words we can recognize, how loud frequencies are, if we can repeat a sentence and have it make sense… stuff like that.  My Ph.D. clad audiologist has been outstanding during this initial mapping phase. While I prefer warm and fuzzy health care providers and she’s not high on the W/F (Warm/Fuzzy) scale, I can tell SHE’S GOOD. She is listening really well to me and paying attention to a gazillion details. I am truly amazed at how she can tweak this CI to fit my needs in all sorts of cosmic dimensions. This time she put me back in THE BOOTH.  (The booth makes us cry and toss up our heads and hands in frustration as it confirms what we know to be terribly true already: we cannot hear.) Anyway, it’s standard procedure to put us in the booth to become qualified as a CI candidate to quantitatively confirm just how bad our hearing really is. I understood ZERO words with no hearing aids and about 4-14% with them. That’s not real conducive to easy living in the hearing world with only a first graders’ vocabulary of sign language. With the CI, three weeks after activation, I scored 64% of word recognition for words spoken in quiet with no context.  Add context with sentences and I got 100%. Stunning. I’ve been told that with practice (not really into that yet), I can reach around 90%.

I think maybe possibly I’m a believer.  Bring on the words.  

Bionic Travels: Day Three

I went out walking for the first time with my CI on this evening. I had no hopes of hearing birds or the other marvelous creatures that inhabit Ohio in August. I just went out. What I discovered was a group of aliens building something in a workshop in my head! Imagine that… they have taken up residence without my express permission.  (I must have given it with all those forms I signed before surgery…)

I live in a quiet, fairly auto free neighborhood and therefore my world was still except for the workshop activity. It was very distracting, though I guess I wouldn’t mind so much if they were building me some shelving for my fabric. They weren’t. Aliens don’t deal in fabric…they like hard things with lots of metal and they throw sound around like it’s a toy. I think they especially like Slinkies and anything that emanates a high pitch twirl. Creeps.  

Fortunately I also inhabit an imperfect world, so I had plenty of problems to work out and finally, after 20 minutes or so, my mind was able to adjust the slightest bit and wander off to ponder other important things.  (Very sorry that I wasn’t able to solve your problems … leave them here and I will try IF I get around to it…) 

That being the better part of my evening walk, I will add the positive note that I heard the footfalls of the runner who came up behind me! THAT sound is the reason I took the cochlear implant plunge.  Reasons to date: the runner’s footfall, myself peeing, the computer keyboard, the car turn signal, running water in the kitchen sink.  The list will grow daily so I am told. Onward…