Cochlear Transplant?

This is just my luck to get sick for the first time in over a year a WEEK before my vacation. Now of all times, my immune system decides to take a break and roll out the red carpet to the little ghosties and beasties to invade my body causing it to wreck havoc. My throat is resonating a teenage boy going through puberty and my nose is working overtime excreting some leftover science experiment that has obviously gone awry. With the clock ticking away, I decided to take care of this issue ASAP. I had to go to the doctor, the primary care person, the one in the white coat, the one that can write out a prescription for powerful drugs to nip my little medical malady in the bud. I decided to stay home today from my sunny little cubicle and make the appointment

I arrive at my doctors building armed with an appointment at 4:45pm EST. I haven’t been here in a while but I still know the procedure like the back of my hand.

1. Sign the sign in sheet.
2. Hand receptionist insurance card.
3. Hand the wrinkled $10 bill for my co-pay.
4. Sit down and pout.

With my bottom lip sticking out further than normal, I start to daydream about strolling through the middle of a desert in Reno on a Segway in a glittery dress made of shiny nickels and with matching cowboy boots hooked up to an oxygen tank picking Marigolds from the cactuses.

“Abbie?” the receptionist called.

I never said I was sane but I would never even dream of daydreaming in a doctor’s office of all places before my cochlear implant. I was always focused on watching the nurses every step to see if I was the next patient. I hated getting that look. You know that look of, “Yoo-hoo! I just called your name lady, I don’t have all day here!” Now I can daydream about highlighting the Smurfs lovely blue locks with blond streaks all I want!

I relocated myself to the examination room where I was questioned about my symptoms. Before I managed to get out three syllables, it was clear to the nurse why I was there. The sound of my voice caused her brows to furrow. She became uncomfortable and anxious to get out of the room. Hell I would to if I had someone sitting next to that sounded like Kermit croaking. She skedaddled out of the room as soon as she scribbled all three of my symptoms down on a sheet of paper.

I leaned my non-implanted side up against a cabinet and pouted some more. It was a short-lived lean because the man with the white coat came walking into the room. This doctor is part of the practice. He was the same doctor that filled out my medical history papers for my CI surgery. He did not have much knowledge of my history and he was pretty much relying on me. I think he would have written down anything I said to him. I should have seen if he would have written down that I hailed from the Lost City of the Atlantis. He has a gruff Jewish accent which makes it tough to understand him..

He glanced over at my direction; we exchanged optical salutations as he reviewed my extensive list of symptoms. He tells me to jump up on the examination table. I have a silly little fear that I would cause a small earthquake if I jumped up onto anything so I decided to slide right up on it. He takes the little black ear flashlight and shines it down my throat. He nods affirmatively. What was he nodding at? Who knows! I don’t think that hanging ball thing in the back of my throat talked. He moves over to my right ear that houses my hearing aid and I promptly remove it for him. He takes a gander and asks if I ever went through that surgery at Philly. I nodded as much as one could nod with a flashlight in their ear.

“So the cochlear transplant works?” he said.

Ay dio mios! Images flashed through my head where I was laying on an operating table with an open cooler alongside of me revealing a tiny cochlea embedded into an ice cube.

“Implant! I didn’t get a new cochlea from a cadaver down in the morgue, I just got computer put in my head that helps me hear.” I smiled in jest.

“Oh I dont know anything about that stuff.”

No kidding Doc. I decide to educate the man that spent 100,000 dollars on medical school about cochlear implants. He was so not amused by my little show and tell of my cochlear implant system. It was more showing than telling because I lost my voice halfway through my lecture.

Since the doctor ran out of holes to shine his little flashlight in, I hopped off the table and took a seat. I apparently have a sinus infection and laryngitis and his course of action is to zap them with antibiotics!

If this doesn’t work, I’m resorting to doing shots of cod liver oil and orange juice.

Proverbial Needle in a Haystack

As usual, the weatherman was right on target with predicting the weather – completely wrong. The northeast corridor of the United States was expecting a torrential downpour starting Saturday night, which didn’t happen. I thought that I would put the day to good use since I have procrastinated far too long with cleaning up the yard. I have way too many trees surrounding my house that I wish to acknowledge and every year they shower my front yard with useless foliage. Each year I bag up damn near sixty bags of leaves that clutter my sidewalk for weeks waiting for the township waste management experts to come and scoop them up. I came up with an idea of loading my friend’s truck up with rotting leaves and relocating them to the dump ourselves. Brilliant, I know.

And that is exactly what I did! The entire operation couldn’t have gone any smoother. We raked the leaves into a huge pile and chucked them into the bed of the truck. We attached a tarp to the top of the bed and off we went to the dump. We just made it there with ten minutes to spare. However, I completely forgot to bring the rake to pull the leaves out of the truck so I used my legs. In just under ten minutes, we had a clean truck, a neatly folded tarp and growling tummies. We decided to go out for lunch but I wanted to grab a quick shower to avoid walking into any respectable dining establishment smelling like leaf mold and garbage.

About an hour later, I climbed back into my friend’s truck smelling nice and a passing thought of where were my keys came in my head.. I checked my purse with no luck. I jump out of the truck to go hunt down my sweatshirt to find that there was nothing there. I ripped my house apart from end to end. It seemed as that they have mysteriously disappeared.

I began to retrace my steps. Vivid images of memories that were created no less then an hour ago flashed before my very eyes. I watched myself put my keys in my New York Yankee sweatshirt before I started raking. I remember hearing them clank together as I was putting the tarp on. I watched myself move my arm across my stomach that brushed up against the keys on–the–way–to–the–dump. Oh dear god!

I don’t know what came first, the sinking feeling in my stomach or the sheer wave of stupidity. We decided to go back to the dump and with some slight glimmer of hope that they were still open. They close at three and it was now four o’clock but you think that stopped me, absolutely not! All of my keys are on this key ring; car keys, house keys, mailbox keys, work keys – every single key I own is laying somewhere at the township dump – a massive wasteland the size of a small smelly island. I remind my friend not to forget the rake – says the-girl-that-lost-her-keys-in-a-mountain-of leaves-at-the-township-dump.

Ten minutes later, we pull up to the dump that conveniently was closed and gated. I’m staring at the complexity of the metal that was barring us from executing a much needed search and seizure. I thought aloud, “What the hell, I’ll jump the fence.” My friend obviously thought my magnet was on just a touch too tight. Just when I thought my fence hopping days were over, here I go hopping another one. Once I came down from the adrenaline rush, I glanced over just in time to see my friend walk through the fence. I started walking over with a puzzled look on how she just did that. She shouts, “There an opening here!” As I neared, I saw a gap in the gate wide enough to fit a couple people through. “How clever is that.” I said under my breath. “Is this trespassing?” my friend asked. I nodded affirmatively. As we walked over to the designated area, we occasionally glanced up to smile for the security cameras.

As we approached the mountain of leaves, I was hoping that the bulldozer didn’t come and tidy up the area but no such luck. My friend and I stood elbow to elbow scanning over the sheer size of the pile of leaves.

I whimpered.

Notice the height of the Garbage trucks to the leaves.

She sighed.

We sure as hell weren’t there for the ambiance so we got started raking the leaves. We scraped thin layers of leaves off with the hope that my keys will miraculously appear. This got old quickly because I started raking like a mad woman and it had started to rain. We discovered some sticks that we raked up but it was a long shot since I live in a town where the population is 86,000, it could have been any ones sticks in that pile. Fifteen minutes later, a crazy thought of using the magnet on my cochlear implant to draw the keys out popped in my head. I quickly dismissed that idea just as another one popped in my head, a metal detector! We mutually agreed that we were better off getting a metal detector; it would have paid for itself if it found the keys. We packed it up and went back to the truck where I was half expecting the entire police force outside with guns drawn at two women brandishing rakes. Much to our relief, no one was there.

With my friend behind the wheel, we were now en route to the local Radio Shack! On the way there, we were shooting the breeze but all of the sudden she tensed up and closed her eyes as if she was about to get hit by another car. I braced up as I quickly looked over to see a flock of pigeons about to broadside us. They narrowly and when I mean narrowly missed us, I mean narrowly missed us. We laughed like giddy little girls at the irony of being broadsided by pigeons on the way to Radio Shack to get a metal detector to find my keys in a mountain of leaves at the township dump. This type of thing happens all the time.

I’m no stranger to Radio Shack since I worked there at one point of my life. I walked in and proceeded to walk right to the metal detector section. There was nothing there and I started acting like a mad woman who just got her period running through the store looking for tampons. A store associate finally came around to ask if he could help me. I tell him I am looking for a metal detector and his response was, “We don’t have any in stock.” My inner voice shrieks, “are you kidding me?!” I clamped my jaw together and asked if he could find a store that does have one in stock. He tried selling me this idea that he could have one by Monday. I shook my head no and told him I needed it by tomorrow, no later. The dump was closed tomorrow and it was my only chance to find my keys before they meet their untimely demise Monday morning. He found a couple of stores within a 45-minute drive that had one in stock. We left with the list in hand and the unfortunate news that the closest store was closing in five minutes.

I wasn’t too keen on driving forty five minutes so I decided to call all the local stores; Circuit City, Best Buy, Sears, Target, Costco, Wal-Mart, Modell’s, Sports Authority and none of them carried metal detectors. I don’t get it, metal detectors were all the rave one time and now, no one carries them! We decided to head home for the night until I get a phone call from my mom telling me that Bob Kislin’s store has metal detectors in stock. We turned around and zoomed right there.

I aimlessly walked around the Bob Kislin’s store until I found the aisle harboring the metal detectors. I eagerly approached the boxes when the bright orange price sticker caught my eye– $999. I gulped and walked towards a guy behind the counter that was feverishly cleaning a Smith & Wesson. I put on my best face and giggled nervously as I said, “Is there a more affordable metal detector in stock because I am not trying to find pieces of the Titanic here? Heh-heh.” He pointed towards the floor. I thanked him as I jogged to the aisle and looked at the price sticker on the next box – $499. I walked out, went right home and sulked.

The next morning, I become an educated consumer of metal detectors while I was waiting for Radio Shack to open. I researched the brand that was sitting in store just waiting to come home to momma! Everything looked good until I got to the section that read: Maximum Detection Depth: 6”. I forecasted that it was going to be a long day if that all it could do, six measly inches.

My friend brought the metal detector since she always wanted one and we headed back to the scene. We trespassed once again. I reminded her it was only a misdemeanor. We didn’t have time to smile for the security cameras, we just went right to the mountain of leaves. We conducted some tests involving a soda can with leaves on top of it to get an idea of what the depth was. To my surprise, it was much more then six inches. :)

So here we are, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, raking and sweeping the leaves at the local dump. At one point, I thought I needed grappling hooks but we uncovered a section where the sticks looked oddly familiar. We swept over the entire area until we hit this one spot up against the concrete wall. It emitted a beep. My heart jumped. I swept again and it emitted another beep. I held my breath because there was something righteous fermenting in the garbage truck right behind us. I took the rake and gently scraped the area where it was beeping. I saw one of my white grocery store tags peek out from behind a leaf. I scrambled ten feet up this mountain and grabbed what was my keys!



I can’t believe I found the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Flirting with Electricity

You might not know this but I am one of those tool belt divas. As a child, I preferred to play with my Roy Toy log cabin building set over my cabbage patch dolls any day. The process of creating or building always took precedent to whether or not Barbie was pissed off at Ken that day for not stopping and getting gas for the pink convertible.

To fuel my constructive fire was none other then my father who was once a master carpenter. He took me under his wing and taught me a few tricks of the trade that has been stored in my noggin amongst other stuff. :) Besides that, being a single woman with the power of Google at her fingertips, access to all the how-to tutorials is just a click of a button away, I have managed to stock up on some crafty knowledge over the years.

For the past couple of years my mother has complained that the fluorescent light in my bathroom emits this highly annoying buzzing sound. I never heard it so I contributed it to my mother hearing things instead of my inability to hear. :) Amazingly, when I got my cochlear implant I realized she wasn’t suffering from auditory hallucinations, the light really does buzz like a bitch.

Well, buzzy stopped working about three weeks ago. I’m not a princess by any means but I have a hard time functioning in the morning without some source of illumination. Since I am handy around the house my first thought was bulb blew. I took the old one to Home Depot and matched it up with a new one. I came home popped in it – Viola, it worked!

Three days later, it stopped working.

I kick start the process of deductive reasoning which led me to the possibility of a bad ballast (this thing that makes fluorescent light start, kind of resembles a big old bug). As it turns out, it takes just 20 minutes of your time and a quick trip to Home Depot to fix it. I was hesitant at first to replace the ballast – because it means messing with electrical wires.

Electricity + Cochlear Implant = The outcome can't be good.

The possibility of frying my mapping off the implant didn't sit well with me, actually the idea of being fried period didn't sit so well with me either . Therefore, I exercised extreme caution – I turned off the electricity off to whole house. Of course I had to do it when my mother was watching a movie that she has been waiting thirty some odd years to see. Whoops. I got down to business and dilly-dallied with the wires, a little cutting and stripping here and there. It was very simple: white-to-white, black-to-black, blue-to-blue and red to red. In the end, when I flipped the switch, it worked!

A week later, it stopped working.

I am getting tired of playing this game. I strapped my tool belt back on and waddled to Home Depot to pick up some switches and wire nuts. I decided to replace all three switches for esthetic purposes. I shut off power to the entire house again and started to rip the switches out of the wall and replace them – one by one. I screwed everything back together, turned the power back on and flipped the switch and my goodness gracious, great balls of fire I got light!!!

Now my outlet in my living room does not work :)

I Once Thought

I came across this wonderful poem by a new blogger, Bravo Rod and I just had to share it!

I once thought I was impaired
Until I met a man who only had one eye.

I once thought I was impaired,
Until I met a man who couldn’t lift more than 15 lbs.

I once thought I was impaired,
Until I met a man who had to use a cane.

Thank you God for taking my hearing
And not my eyes
So that I can see your beauty.

Thank you God for taking my hearing
And not my legs
So that I can ride like the wind.

Thank you God to taking my hearing
And not my brain
So that I can remember
All the grace you have given me.

In the Season of Thanksgiving
I am thankful for going deaf.

In the Season of Thanksgiving
I am thankful for not going
Blind, Lame, or Forgetful.

In the Season of Thanksgiving
What I don’t have is more blessed
Than what the world thinks I don’t have.

I Once thought
Many things

May my thoughts be your thoughts today.

The good stuff in life...

is not all chocolate, wine and lemon drop cookies. I deal with a lot of negativity throughout the day but it just takes one of these emails to make my day.

Hello Abbie,

I just listened and watched your video of the activation of your CI. What a marvelous thing you did, to make this available to us fellow CIers! You are a wonderful inspiration.

I received my implant in April 2006, activated in May. My experience was very similar to yours. I was born with a severe hearing loss in both ears and did not receive my first hearing aid in one ear until I was 4 yrs! Despite all this, I went through the mainstream schooling and university with just one ear hearing aid.

To make a long story short, my ear gave out 3 yrs ago and as the other ear was bad, I was effectively deaf. The implant was a miracle and now I am hearing sufficiently ell, but still problems on the phone, in crowds, etc..

My hearing handicap never stopped me in my life. I started up my own company and became very successful, despite a heavy telephone requirement.

Anyway, I wish you much success in life and I know you will have that. You got what it takes!

Thanks again, Abbie.

Cheers!
the bionic man from Canada

The DeafRead Controversy

DeafRead collects deaf related content and videos from deaf or hard of hearing bloggers and places it on their site. Human editors approve each posts to ensure that it is in fact deaf related. It really is a great site for deaf diversity, read a blog or watch people sign through vLogs (video blogs.) I am deaf and a blogger, I've clearly met the minimum requirements and I submitted my blog to their site. Almost instantaneously, I watched the CHRONICLES OF THE BIONIC WOMAN appeared in the blog list and then I waited anxiously for my posts to appear.

As time went by, I forgot all about it until I got a comment on my Greatest Moment of the Year post from a loyal reader.

KW said: Hi!! I've always meant to tell you I love your style of writing. What you wrote in the first paragraph of not being part of the Hearing or Deaf worlds-- I LOVED that. Do you submit your blogs to DeafRead? I wish you would, they need to read you. :-)

As soon as I read that, I surfed right on over to DeafRead, eager in anticipation to see my posts. When I clicked on my blog, I was disappointed by the fact it said that I had no posts. I surfed back to the blog list and recognized several Cochlear Implant blogs such as my bionic belle Jennifer with no posts (unheard of!). I scratched my magnet, something didn’t add up. I started clicking like crazy on the FAQ and browsing all around for some answers on why nothing was coming up! Then I get another comment from my loyal reader.

KW said: Hiya-- I hope this is OK. I noticed you were listed as a blogger on DeafRead and it's been bugging me that your blogs were never picked up, so I complained because I felt that maybe they were unfair to people with CI's. It looks like there was some kind of technical problem, and you're going to be in there now-- all the time maybe. I complained that Jen's blog wasn't being picked up either. I'm such a whiner.

Great! I scooted over there, again eager in anticipation to see my posts and nothing. I said the hell with this but then this post caught my eye, Paotie's site which gave me another suspicious perspective on the DeafRead site.

Finally, some good news by my loyal reader.

KW said: JJ checked into it and saw that you were inactive for some reason, so he asked Taylor who runs the site. Here's his answer--

So, the short answer is that if a blogsite is inactive for a long period of time the blogger needs to “reactivate” it with deafread.com. I’d shoot an E-mail to the person who runs the “bionic Woman” blogsite and ask him/her to reactivate their site by sending an E-mail to deafread.com.

I hope that this is a satisfactory answer?

BTW, I also checked out “…a work in progress” (thanks for pointing out where it was), it also seems inactive.

Eh, why couldn't this simple piece of information be posted in FAQ or HELP section of the DeafRead site? I shot them an email them and sure enough, i received lightening fast confirmation that it was activated. I am now on the DeafRead site, posts and all. Coincidently shortly afterwards the blogs of fellow CIer''s appeared began to make their way on the site.

I don't know what to make of the fact that a majority of the CI blogs were not "approved" or "activated." I sincerely hope this was just a mere technicality because I would hate to think that these human editors deem cochlear implant bloggers as unsuitable deaf related content.

We sleep in total silence too.

Chris Daughtry

As a teenager full of angst, I took heed to rock and roll, never mind sex and drugs. I spent most of my time banging my head to the astonishing depth of Led Zeppelin, the depressing tranquility of Kurt Cobain, the pure rawness of Guns and Roses, and the culminating riffs of Pink Floyd. I craved the thundering of the drums, percussive tone of the bass guitars, and the thought-provoking lyrics. Like most deaf people, I would spend countless of hours passionately trying to learn the lyrics, if I was lucky, they were printed on the insert. When the lyrics were not printed, I sought the soundless gum flapping renditions from my friends and the rare event of close captioning on MTV and VH1 music videos. I had a better chance of seeing Halley’s Comet. Then the mother lode entered my humble abode, the internet and I was formally introduced at a ripe age of sixteen. The world and the lyrics were at my fingertips. Finally, I was content because my lip-syncing ability exceeded my friends. I felt that I proved that I was no different from anyone else, but then again no one else spent hours listening to the same song repeatedly committing the words to memory. Rock and roll was my ultimate solace while my hormones were running amiss until the pleasant tone of guitars started to wither away from the melody.

Rock and roll never sounded the same, it died. A proper analogy is that you could never look at a smashed mirror the same again after seeing countless of pleasing reflection. Rock and roll and all the esoteric elements slipped away. I hopelessly wondered from genre to genre discovering that I could hear mostly bass. At least I could still hear voices. When I heard Chris Daughtry’s voice for the first time on American Idol, I knew he was going to go places even after hearing that he was voted off. His voice had the passion and soulful resonance of successful rock and rollers before him. Just hear that kind of voice again stirred up of emotions that lied dormant for years. Then his voice and all others started fading from songs replaced by white noise. They began to fade from the telephone and the television. Eventually voices faded from people that were fifteen feet away, then ten, then two. Music was never heard, only felt the sensations from that point on.

The cochlear implant rescued me from a world of silence. Music returned better then ever and victory was ever so sweet. To celebrate, my wonderful and incredibly thoughtful friends surprised me with SECOND row tickets to see Chris Daughtry’s concert this past Friday! It was simply breath taking and an absolutely amazing experience to hear. Daughtry intimately approached the microphone and began to serenade the audience that just so happens to include one happy bionic woman. His sultry voice possesses Herculean power that tickled every single electrode of mine that was happily downloading his every pitch. His dulcet tones are incredibly diverse that ranged from savory sweet that had the power to beat your heart to powerfully rockonian with a just a drop of southern comfort. He performed an acoustic rendition of “All These Lives” that when I closed my eyes, I felt that he was sitting right next to me soulfully playing the guitar. His passionate performance brought the memories of jejune moments of the yesteryear. It was so surreal.

When it was over, I left knowing that rock and roll was still very much alive.

Beauty is in the ear of the beholder

Olympus BioScapes 2007 Digital Imaging Competition Gallery Fourth Prize
Dr. Sonja Pyott
Department of Biology and Marine Biology
University of North Carolina, Wilmington
Wilmington, NC, USA

This enamoring picture is of the cochlea and hair cells. The little green trolls are the hair cells. I wonder what my hair cells look like. Are they attached just waving around? Did they shrivel up like a weed? Do they turn a different color? Do they lose their troll hair?

The red part that looks like a heartbeat is the neurons. When my cochlear implant receives auditory information it sends out an electrical impulse which causes the neurons to fire. When the neurons fire, my brain interpret the firing as sound. I'm not sure what the other colors represent. I have to snoop around and dig up some information.

Artist try to portray an emotion, a scene, someone, or the essence of the moment. The use of primary colors are amazing. This photo looks like a garden with children standing behind the border of flowers holding hands.

Or I need to change my contacts.

Washoe

This is not a derivative of pig latin or a small town or a typo. Washoe is a chimpanzee, but not any old chimpanzee. She was the first animal that learned sign language. This was a historical milestone in the scientific community. She demonstrated the ability to learn sign language from humans. The scientists use a form of conditioning called operant conditioning. Every time Washoe employed the proper movement with her hands, she was positively reinforced with stimulus such as tummy tickles. She exhibited the ability to associate a movement with an object or action. The conditioning led Washoe to build a vocabulary of 250 words. That is 225 more words than what I am capable of signing. It is a complex language people!

As if that is not astounding enough, she was able to impart her skills to three other chimpanzees without any assistance from humans. I find Washoe accomplishments exceptional, although it does not surprise me. The DNA of Chimpanzees is similar to 96 to 98% of human DNA. While two percent difference is clearly evident it does give some stipulation to the theory that humans evolved from chimpanzees. In the 42 years that Washoe has roamed the earth, she has made her mark. Now for the bad news, Washoe has closed her eyes for the last time on October 30, 2007 but her achievements will never be forgotten.

http://www.friendsofwashoe.org/

Since I am an avid animal lover, with the exception of insects because I suffer horribly from entomophobia, the feats of all living creatures never cease to amaze me.

Impotence drugs linked to sudden hearing loss.

This little snippet links sudden hearing loss with popping those "BLUE PILLS". There is always a catch somewhere.

U.S. regulators on Thursday said warnings about the risk of sudden hearing loss linked to popular drugs for impotence, including Viagra, Cialis and Levitra, would be added to the drugs' labels.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration was prompted to look into a possible connection after a published report of a man taking Viagra, made by Pfizer Inc, who suffered from sudden hearing loss, a rare condition.

Eli Lilly sells Cialis and GlaxoSmithKline Plc sells Levitra.

A further review of the FDA's side effect data found 29 cases of sudden hearing loss with a relationship to the three drugs. In two thirds of the cases, the hearing loss was ongoing, the agency said.

A weeks worth of thought...

It has been four weeks since I was turned on and I cannot believe the difference. Not just in what I hear, but in how I feel. I feel that I am on a path to rediscovering myself. I am doing a complete overhaul on my life, pulling out the weeds so to speak. My self-confidence is slowly coming back. I do not feel as socially repressed. I will admit I have withdrawn into my own little world. I use to work out like crazy, go out on a whim, and take little trips to nowhere just because I wanted to. Since I lost my hearing, I lost interest in all of that. On the other hand, since I have lost my hearing, I have gained interest in what really should matter. I feel secure in my surroundings. I can hear a car coming up behind me. I can hear someone answer me through a wall. I can hear a fire alarm whereas four weeks and one day ago, I could not hear one if I held it right against my ear. It is a sense of security that has been given back to me by simply inserting a circuit board with a tail in my head. I feel that the ability to accomplish tasks without placing a burden on anyone is within arms reach. To do things myself, gain a sense of privacy, and achieve independence would be my poetic justice.

The one thing that has affected me, as thick skinned as I might appear is how my speech is perceived. I'm conscientiously aware of how I am speaking at all times. The idea of someone commenting on my "accent" turns my stomach. I would fight like hell to hold my tears back, which I am doing now. Humiliation rears its ugly head when a stranger out of nowhere ask me where I am from when I am at a store, amongst friends, or worse, a friend notices. I have received more comments regarding my speech since February then I ever have in my life. I started for the first time in my life, keeping my mouth shut. I began to think to myself maybe people were afraid to tell me, that they did not want to hurt my feelings. I suppose there was no right or wrong way of saying it to me. I contemplate that it would be like me asking someone if a tube dress made me look fat and did not want to hurt my feelings. Regardless if I was left looking like an overstuffed sausage or slurring as if I have been hitting the bottle a little too much, I'm starting to feel that I can talk candidly without the weight on my shoulders of wondering if they are judging my speech.

Nuff about that though! Since my audi Jennifer turned off my auto gain compression, it has been a blessing in disguise. An ambulance went by me while I was driving and I heard it approaching without having to look in the rear view mirror. With the auto gain on, it sounded like when you are talking on a cell phone and you lose signal, it cuts out. Very annoying. I am reading this book called The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, and it has a woman with a very slight Indian accent narrating the book. This is my first audio book with a woman narrator and I am able to follow along fairly well. My next mapping is on Monday, so I will have to see what she has in store for me then.

For those who like CSI shows, CSI Miami aired an episode last Monday called "Inside Out". It featured a deaf girl that was killed and she had a cochlear implant! Sure, they killed her off, but you can see the magnet stick to her head and everything!

Just Imagine...

Just before I had my surgery to repair a deviated septum in February that led me to experience complete silence, I started researching cochlear implants. This is all before I discovered forums and blogs that are only a click away. My primary doctor's office was clueless with whom I should contact. They actually asked me what a cochlear implant was. Therefore, I figured a good starting point would be an audiologist! I broke out the Google super pages and started searching. I thought there would have been at least ONE person in the area that dealt with cochlear implants. I made a phone call to a so-called audiologist that I had never seen or talked to before in my life. The result of this phone call was disturbing. This audiologist stated that there is absolutely no way that I would be considered a candidate for cochlear implant based solely on how well I was hearing him on the phone.

That right, you read it right the first time. This glorified hearing aid dispenser diagnosed me as an unsuitable cochlear implant candidate just by talking to me on the phone. In his professional opinion, that a stronger powered hearing aids would be more suitable. He further went on to say that a cochlear implant does not sound like a hearing aid and I am better off sticking with hearing aids. Who knew audiologist can sound like a used car salesman? Just imagine if I took that preposterous professional opinion and did not seek out a second one. I would be sitting here stone cold deaf today. Instead, I opted to disregard it and research it further. I wanted to contact someone in the medical field that did not give me a face of utter confusion when I mentioned cochlear implant. My perseverance paid off in insurmountable amounts. I am hearing more then I ever have in the short time I have been walking on earth's terra firma.

Since I have off today for Columbus Day, I woke up a little later then usual on this fall morning with an expected temperature of 87 degrees, a gentle breeze blowing the leaves around and the thought occurred to me. If that absurd phone call happened to me, it had to have happened to others. I can only imagine how many others an experiencel like that would have stopped them dead in their tracks. To the others that have had a similar experience to mine and accepted it as their final retort, my suggestion to you is look further. The chances are the audiologist that you see to have your hearing aid adjusted is not a trained cochlear implant audiologist. They are two different species entirely. Seek out a reputable cochlear implant clinic. Here are some links track one down.

Advanced Bionics Clinic Finder
Cochlear Clinic Finder
Med-El Clinic Finder

My personal preference was to find a clinic that dealt with all three of them. Diversity is the spice of life and I wanted that familiarity extended to my choice of implants. It is important that you double and triple check if the clinic and the doctor are covered under your health insurance because it is not cheap.

When I had my deviated septum surgery, I had to disclose that I was deaf and yadda yadda yadda. It turned out there was a nurse whose daughter has a cochlear implant who came to talk to me before I was wheeled in. Her daughter was born completely deaf and the cochlear implant was nothing short of a miracle for them. The nurses eyes was welling up with tears as she told me a story that her daughter can hear her name being called from downstairs. It was touching. The reason why I am telling you this story is that I felt it was kind of a prodigy because shortly after being told that story, I was wheeled into surgery and I woke up completely deaf.

I made some milestones last week. It was a crazy week at work. I had a training session on Wednesday in a relatively small conference room, oval table and all. There was about six chatty people total in this room and I was able to follow along with no problems. I was able to tell who was chiming in their two cents and immediately was able to turn to read their lips. I can say with confidence that I left that training session with comprehending at least ninety percent of what was said. Before my implant, I would dread this type of situation because my eyes would eventually glaze over in frustration and nod occasionally that I get the gist of the conversation.

Thursday was another training session, but in a computer classroom setting with a projector screen. I sat right in front of the instructor and everyone was behind me or to the right (my implant is on the left.) When other people in the class would pipe up with questions, I was able to tell who was talking and turn my head to read their lips. I felt very confident that I understood at least 80% of what was being said. Before my implant, I would have learned everything I needed to by watching the instructor move his mouse on the screen.

On Friday, I had another experience of being surrounded by several people discussing business in the hallway. Surprisingly, I was able to follow along with whoever was chiming in. Keeping up with the rate that politicians talk is no easy task. :) Friday night, my mother was practicing with me covering her mouth and running off a list of states and countries. I did fairly well but I think it was because I knew the subject matter and it was not hard to associate the sounds with the proper name. Even with my audio book, I can look away and pick up words here and there. I can't wait to see what tomorrows mapping will bring.

Just imagine, it has been only three weeks since I have been activated!

I will never forget September 11th, 2001.

Today is a day that is an unforgettable moment. Today is a day I can forever visualize with clarity as the events unfolded in my own minds eye. Today is a day that I discovered the true sentiment of mourning. Today is a day for remembrance for those who lost their lives then and are fighting to stay alive now. Today is the day for those who are affected by September 11, 2001. Six years later and it still feels like it happened yesterday.



This morning, I attended a ceremony in honor of those who lost their lives in the 9-11 tragedy. It was pouring rain out but loads of people still attended. Running the risk of becoming little damp or soaking dripping wet is trivial compared to what happened six years ago. As I stood there admiring the flag flying that was attached the raised ladder on the firefighter truck, you can feel the sadness emanating from those who attended. You can see the group eyes glaze over with tears as they remember their personal documentary in their minds.

Officials were speaking and all I was able to catch were the words September 11th. It wasn’t imperative that I had to know what was being said because the sanctity of the occasion was enough for me. In the middle of the ceremony, a gentle soul that I work with name Bea nudged me and said, “Just think, next year you will be able to hear this.” It took me a moment to digest what she said because I was so focused on the flag waving in the air, holding my coffee, trying to decipher the speaker, and holding my umbrella. Juggling is not a career choice for me. Once I become conscious of not what she said but what she meant, I blurted out, “You are so right!” At that moment, Bea brought a different perspective of my journey into sound probably without her realizing it. I have been so focused on specific sounds but now, I look forward to hearing the sentiment of one’s voice. It has been so long since I have been able to hear happiness, sadness, anxiousness, and irateness in anyone’s voice. It would be a blessing to know the emotional intention of the spoken word again.

“No matter how hard we try words simply cannot express the horror, the shock, and the revulsion we all feel over what took place in this nation on Tuesday morning. September 11 will go down in our history as a day to remember.” by Bill Graham

Being deaf and in a public bathroom.

Now as we all know, women are god’s greatest creation. Lord knows we love to talk. We can talk all day long about spectrum of colors on a bedspread, retractable awnings, exotic citrus and coupon expiration dates until we are blue in the face. However! I feel that there is a time and place for such topics. One of those places is not in a public restroom. Conversation does not cease when that door shuts and locks. They just keep going and going and going. This presents a small minor problem for me. Allow me to elaborate from a deaf womans point of view.

The public restroom has become an interesting place to visit. It is no longer just lock the door behind you and squint your eyes at the stark white walls with graffiti written all over it. You have a simple metal toilet paper holder affixed to the wall or cabinet housing the sink. The typical white commode and matching sink complete with a faucet that you can turn on and adjust the temperature. For a real treat, you can pump anti-bacterial soup and *GASP* actually pull your own paper towels out and dry your hands. That was the 20th century bathrooms where I did not have to worry about anything unless someone banged on the door.

Welcome to the 21st century people. Modern technology has definitely streamlined our experience with fancy schmancy elevator music to make our relieving experience as enjoyable as possible. The public restrooms are designed in eccentric proportions with unusual materials of diverse colors consequently providing a safe and enjoyable visit. Architects has developed the standard of “washrooms” or more commonly known as stalls to maintain privacy while allowing light to enter from above, below and through a 2” wide gap through the door. These washrooms are formed by steel that rattles like a train coming through town if someone happens to step into the stall next to you. It usually ends up frightening you and then forces you to stop what you were doing, abruptly with no chance of continuance. Toilets have evolved to automatic super duper vacuum toilets where you have to learn to maintain perfect posture and pray that a fly does not go past the military grade flush sensor while you are on it. It is suggestible that you take a couple classes of Yoga before you attempt to master these types of toilets. While the toilet paper rolls have gotten bigger then your average 1000 sheets, the holders are the size of a small car tire affixed to the wall. You double the fine by having a matching holder of the same size one on the other side of the stall that has toilet seat protectors. If you manage to squeeze your head between those two holders, you can continue safely. You sacrifice comfort in exchange for quantity when it comes to toilet paper because it feels more like 500-grit sandpaper then the gentle comfort paper that we have at home.

Once you have managed to find your way out of the washroom, you proceed to the sink with a faucet that is lacking options for temperature adjustment. You notice the state of the art foam soap dispensers, since liquid soap is a thing of the past. If you are lucky that the dispenser is fully foamed, you start lathering up by waving your hand in front of the sink and pray that the plumbers knew what they were doing when they installed it. Three things can happen at this point: the temperature is just right and quickly changes to scolding hot killing any bacteria before the foam soap did, or it comes out frigid cold pruning your fingers, or if you are lucky, it comes out just right and you walk away with negligible damage. The next step is to proceed to the drying station. They have hand dryers with invisible sensors that turn the darn contraptions on by waving your hands underneath of it several times and then hit it to have the dryer turn on. By this time, your hands are dry and you have burned 80 calories. All the while the dryers are going, I can't hear worth beans. No wonder why most people prefer going home to take care of business.

The bathroom is no longer an escapade. With all the commotion that goes on in the bathroom nowadays, you add the fact that women do not, I repeat do not stop chatting even to go to the bathroom. My problem with this is if I am waiting in line for a stall, holding the stall door or taking care of business, I still cannot hear a single word anyone is saying. I am in a metal enclosure, with no visual cues of what anyone is saying, and you women keep yapping to your hearts content. Yelling my name or saying that you will be outside does nothing but induce an anxiety attack that there might be a fire or something. Most women have the unbelievable ability to identify a person by their shoes. Just let me be the first person to tell you, you are not impressing anyone when you can recognize my shoes and proceed to throw toilet paper over the stall and haul ass out of there. I might not hear you but I will find your feet. I wish that all conversation ceases with me until I have exited the public restroom.

It is the only way that I can go peacefully.

Left vs. Right

I began to research the left vs. right brain theory. Primarily due to when I get the hardware installed, I was curious which side is dominant in speech development. I get that the left side of the brain controls the right side of the body and right side controls the left side of the body. Now Google might not be the most trustworthy source of information but I left my Grey's Anatomy book at Barnes and Noble. So Google will have to do for now. Grand Ol' Google has indicated that the left side processes language, logic, and organization. All the while, the right brain is used for artistic ability, emotions, tone, but no language center. Interesting.

My left side of my brain has been proactive in language and speech development with my hearing aid in my right ear all these years. It is a safe assumption since it houses the language center. On the other side, my brain has been inactive as far as auditory stimuli in my left ear, but that has not always been the case. I have auditory memory from when I use to wear a hearing aid in my left ear years ago. I cannot remember using the phone with my left ear. Throughout my cochlear implant candidacy, not one person suggested to implant the right ear since it houses the language center. It was suggested that I do my right ear on the basis that it has more stimulation but either ear was up for grabs. Did I pick the wrong ear to do first?!

Now my left hemisphere wheels are turning. When the implant is activated in my left ear, my right side of my brain is going to be in for a rude awakening. Am I going to have difficulty understanding speech? Does this mean that I will appreciate music and sounds of nature more then the spoken word? Albeit I have the auditory memory, will my left side help my right side remember? I am going to snoop around and ask some left ear implantee's how well they have done.

This is a far-fetched hypothesis created by daydreaming through a thunderstorm. Bear with me. I am curious if dominant sides of the brain and the ear chosen have anything to do with how well a person responds to a cochlear implant. Does a dominant left or righter's have an easier time adapting to a cochlear implant? If your left hemisphere were dominant, would you benefit from having the implant inserted in your right ear? I would think a person would excel beyond expectations in that case. If your right hemisphere is dominant, does your music appreciation increase while your speech discrimination is hanging in the midst? I have not the foggiest idea. What if both sides of the brain aided speech discrimination with just one cochlear implant installed in either ear? Now that would be the ideal situation..... on paper.

Time for me to find out which side is dominant! I have taken four online tests to determine which side of my pretty little head is dominant. All four tests came out I use each side equally. I am perfectly balanced. :) 50/50. Half-and-half. Even steven. Here are the results from one of the tests.

Abbie, you are one of those rare individuals who are perfectly "balanced" in both your hemispheric tendencies and your sensory learning preferences. However, there is both good news and bad news.

A problem with hemispheric balance is that you will tend to feel more conflict than someone who has a clearly established dominance. At times, the conflict will be between what you feel and what you think but will also involve how you attack problems and how you perceive information. Details that seem important to the right hemisphere will be discounted by the left and vice versa, which can present a hindrance to learning efficiently.

In the same vein, you may have a problem with organization. You might organize your time and/or space only to feel the need to reorganize five to ten weeks later.

On the positive side, you bring resources to problem solving that others may not have. You can perceive the "big picture" and the essential details simultaneously and maintain the cognitive perspective required. You possess sufficient verbal skills to translate your intuition into a form, which can be understood by others while still being able to access ideas, and concepts that do not lend themselves to language.

Your balanced nature might lead you to second-guess yourself in artistic endeavors, losing some of the fluidity, spontaneity, and creativity that otherwise would be yours.

With your balanced sensory styles, you process data alternately, at times visually and other times auditorially. This usage of separate memories may cause you to require more time to integrate information or re-access it. When presented with situations that force purely visual or purely auditory learning, increased anxiety is likely and your learning efficiency will decrease.

Your greatest benefit is that you can succeed in multiple fields due to the great plasticity and flexibility you possess.

That about sums me all up.

Whoa, its 20 days away?!

Mood: Anxious

Since I was mainstreamed all my life, I have not had the opportunity to meet other hard of hearing or deaf people. I could count the ones I have met up on one hand. I lack the ability to sign. I can barely do the ABC's but I am a master at the big one finger salute. I never thought to seek out others like me. It was not until I started researching cochlear implants that I came upon all these sites full of people just like me. I never knew how comfort felt until I realized there are other people out there that feel the same way. Right down to the same quirky little habits that we have all unknowingly adapted.

For example, I have a habit of just smiling and nodding during a conversation. I get so tired of trying to follow the conversation because it is like watching the Wimbledon every single day. I hate tennis and I am in dire need a chiropractor :) People wonder why I have such a short attention span and tend to drift off in space. It is mentally exhausting to try to follow the voice. I opt to my mind my own beeswax. I love gossip but not at the lengths I have to go to get it. That is what PerezHilton.com is for.

It is nice to know that I am not the only one that dreads nighttime affairs with no floodlights underneath everyone faces. I cannot hear or see anyone lips without light so I end up sitting there looking like an anti-social hermit. Believe you me I am anything but anti-social. In fact, I am quite the quaint little social butterfly.

Another one is that when every one starts to laugh, I laugh even when I have no idea what they are laughing about. I detest looking like a pudding head, so I laugh. Even worse, I do not want to appear that I lack the sense of humor to enjoy a clever banter, so I laugh some more. It is a rotten feeling to discover what is so humorous after everyone else has enjoyed the moment. It ruins many a moments when someone has to explain what is so funny. It is just these little things that normal hearing people will never understand.

However, it makes me feel all sorts of warm inside when I get told that I act like that one would never know that I can't hear. It is 90% due to my super duper black belt lip-reading skills and the other 10% is the sounds I can barely hear. I teeter totter between planes of reality. I just don't know where I fit in.

I decided to go to the NYC Seaport Deaf Festival in New York on August 19 to see if I can meet some great people, learn about the deaf culture, and get some food while I am at it. I do not know the first thing about the deaf culture, but I am determined. I know more about the Spanish culture then I do about deaf culture. I cannot even begin to express how happy I am to have some wonderful friends that are going with me to support me. They are my rock stars :)

This honorary rock star is going to put down her drum sticks and close her eyes.

*YAWN*