Destination is merely a byproduct of the journey: Part II

The countdown is indeed dwindling down and I am beginning to get impatient, but not for the obvious reasons. The tinnitus has come back and I have set up a tent at Camp Unhappy. It sounds like a fish tank bubbling and I cannot tell which side of my head the tinnitus is coming from. It started on Tuesday and increasingly got louder. Yesterday when I woke up, it was just like old times. I could hardly hear a thing. This morning the noise was not so loud. It is just so aggravating. I was just so grateful for that little taste of silence for a couple weeks. I am not welcoming this noisy visitor with open arms again. Anyway, moving right along to your lesson of the day.

Let me copy and paste this to refresh your memory:

Activation involves the external part of the system, which is the processor that resembles your standard behind the ear hearing aid. The coil with the flat round disc at the end houses a magnet that will attach to the magnet in the implant that lies under my head. Whew, try saying that five times fast. Before I continue, for the record my processor will be boring beige. I am far too colorful with my hair and wardrobe to rock a colorful processor. Once the two magnets attract each other then my audiologist, Jennifer who is going to be my new best friend for the next couple of months, can get down to business and start programming the implant according to how I respond to the tones. Once the programming is complete, she activates me and slowly starts to turn up the volume to a comfortable level. At this point, I should be able to hear something. These sessions are called mappings that will be explained in detail as the countdown dwindles down.

When it comes to activation on Monday, the programming will be referred to as mappings. Two levels of sound must be determined in order to custom map the implant to my hearing loss. The first level is called a Threshold or T for short, which is when I can detect the softest sound at each frequency. The second level is Comfort, C or M for short. This is when I determine my loudest but most comfortable sound at each frequency. I believe they use what is called live speech burst to determine the levels. Once these two levels are determined, the audiologist will go through a process of asking me when two different pitches of sound are at the same volume. Somehow, that sounds tricky to me. If you are presented with, a low bass sound followed with a high tone and have to determine if it is at the same volume level. It seems to me it is easier said than done.

Once the T & C levels are determined and everything sounds the same to me, the audiologist will download the map to my processor and turn the volume up until I can hear. It will be at that most moment that I will be able to hear something.

The following could happen:

• Best-case scenario is that I could hear everything just as natural as could be.
• Everyone sounds like munchkins from Wizard of Oz, but I will understand speech.
• I could hear sounds similar to R2D2 fighting in Star Wars as speech.
• I could hear static.

Regardless of what I hear, it will be something more then what I currently have now. The audiologist might have to play around with the levels a little more depending on how I respond. That is mapping in a nutshell. Being mapped is not just a one-time deal. I have three more mapping sessions scheduled over a month and half period. As time goes on my brain will learn to interpret what the electrical pulses are from the implant as sound and it will become natural. When my brain gets use to one map, sounds will become softer which means my brain is ready for more volume. At that point, I will have to go back to the audiologist and have another mapping session to determine the threshold and comfort levels all over again.

Lesson completed! Class dismissed.

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

Destination is merely a byproduct of the journey.

“Can you hear yet?!”

If I had a dime for every time I have been asked this since I had my surgery, my piggy bank would be overflowing! I wouldn’t be a rich girl but I would have enough money to buy my poochie a couple bones. The surgery is the first step of this journey back to sound. Nothing is ever easy, and learning how to hear again is no exception. My next step is activation. Before you even bat your eye, I’m going to explain the process and what activation entails, and with pictures too!

HiRes 90K Cochlear Implant by Advanced Bionics

The surgery inserts the internal part, the cochlear implant. The cochlear implant (see picture above) was inserted right above my left ear and under my skin as you can see here. A small hole was drilled through the mastoid bone to gain access to my cochlea and feed the tail through. At the end of the tail, you will notice the wire is a thicker. The thicker part of the wire houses 16 electrodes. The clear plastic mouse shape part is where the receiver and the magnet are located. The magnet is the part that resembles a watch battery at the top of the implant. Essentially, I got micro chipped :D I have no qualms with walking around asking people to cop a feel off my magnet.

This diagram gives offers you a visual interpretation of how the implant is inserted in my ear. If you follow the silver wire that starts from the top part of the ear, you will see that the electrodes follow the contour of the cochlea (the snail shape organ). It is pretty nifty right? With any surgery, there is minimal trauma but time heals all wounds and Vitamin E and cocoa butter heals all scars. My time to heal is three weeks before activation. I am down two and one week to go! Technically, it is closer to six days and 19 some odd hours but who is counting. Ah, hem…

Harmony Processor from Advanced Bionics

Activation involves the external part of the system, which is the processor that resembles your standard behind the ear hearing aid. The coil with the flat round disc at the end houses a magnet that will attach to the magnet in the implant that lies under my head. Whew, try saying that five times fast. Before I continue, for the record my processor will be boring beige. I am far too colorful with my hair and wardrobe to rock a colorful processor. Once the two magnets attract each other then my audiologist, Jennifer who is going to be my new best friend for the next couple of months, can get down to business and start programming the implant according to how I respond to the tones. Once the programming is complete, she activates me and slowly starts to turn up the volume to a comfortable level. At this point, I should be able to hear something. These sessions are called mappings that will be explained in detail as the countdown dwindles down. I like to keep my loyal readers in suspense! :D

More details at 11 tomorrow.

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.

Here is my ear...

WARNING: This blog is rated PG-13 and suggested viewing time is before breakfast, brunch, lunch, high tea time, or dinner.

I was simply too excited about washing my hair and getting a new cell phone to post yesterday. I did not know which way to go but I knew I had to go west to see the good doctor. The stitches came out with very little pain since my incision is still numb. Whew, I was sweating in my sandals because I do not deal with a little pain being afflicted on me that well anymore. I can deal with massive pain but not the other way around. It never used to be that way until a couple years ago. I am a wuss now and I have no other choice to embrace the wussy way of dealing with pain.

Anyway, off to the good stuff. The doctor looked in my ear, gave me a clean bill of health, and then uttered those magic words, “You can wash your hair now.” So I put my biggest Kool-Aid smile and thanked him for putting up with my vanity, it was not an easy task for that man. I go back to see him in January sometime.

I thought I left my keys in the ignition and my car running because the minute I parked my car, I went from driver’s seat to the shower in 60 seconds flat. It was invigorating experience with a new sensation with water gliding over the incision being numb. Of course, I learned a few things after not being able to wash my hair for 8 days (whose counting? I sure was!). I discovered that I will never be able to rock dreadlocks or cornrows. How unfortunate… just a crying shame.

Now for some eye candy, or ear candy to be politically correct!!

Here is a picture of my incision with my stitches....

Eww... my ear is fat!!

And without my stitches...

It looks like I have to get liposuction in my ear.

I am absolutely knackered from going to bed late last night since my sleeping habits went off kilter during recovery and then going back to work today for the first time since my surgery. I was missed. I am glad that I am back to work since I felt the walls were closing in on me but I'm exhausted. I just want to climb into my box shaped bed and go to sleep.

This is me signing off with 12 more days to go til turn on. Sweet dreams.

A stitch in time cost me thirty.

Happy Labor Day everyone!!! I love getting a day of rest just because I am a member of the working society. I unknowingly finagled it so I can have an extra day for recovery. Genius, I know. I feel great today besides the cotton ball fullness feeling in my ear. If that is the only thing I am complaining about, I am grateful. Tomorrow is the day that I get the stitches removed. Boo-yah!!

How much does it cost to get some stitches snipped out of my head in America?

• Three hour round trip
• $12.00 in gas
• $3.00 in tolls
• $10.00 dollar co-pay
• $5.00 to valet park your car
• Being able to wash my hair tomorrow night

PRICELESS!!!

People, I am excited!!! I have not even thought about activation since I have been counting down the days hours to washing my hair. That does not mean I have been completely oblivious because I know I still have two weeks to go until I'm turned on. My right ear is doing very well since the good doctor killed the tinnitus is my ear. I had company over today and I looked away to self-test my speech discrimination. The result was that I felt there was an improvement since I picked up a few simple words here and there.

That and taking just one Tylenol was my cool factors for today.

I see things all so clearly now.

I woke up to a beautiful Sunday morning and watched for the first time Gone With the Wind on TV. Today was the day I felt pretty good. I didn't wake up with an immediate craving to reach for my prescription bottle full of Percocet with its adult proof caps. Instead, I took plain old Tylenol and it worked like a charm. It is nice to interpret reality clearly instead of living in a fog. I was going to take a picture of my lovely stitch work behind my ear for the world to see but lo and behold, digital cameras seem to have an expiration date and mine expired. Sigh. I hopped online and ordered a new one though. I love having the world at my fingertips! Now if I could only try shoes online by the measurements of my feet, that would be my golden egg.

I should give a brief summary of this past week.

• Monday was the easy part. I got my ear partially "Van Goghed" and flipped over and this computer stuck in it. They sewed me up, my head was dressed with a huge bandage wrapped so tight that Erin Brockovich could have worn it as a skirt.

• Tuesday - The skirt was snipped off my head. I spent most of the day high off my Percocet. Every couple hour I would fall asleep.

• Wednesday - Same thing as Tuesday. Pop pills, sleep, eat, pop pills, sleep, eat, ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, la la la.

• Thursday - I started to feel uncomfortable. My whole left side of my head ached.

• Friday - I felt even worse then Thursday. My aches and pains turned up the voltage a bit more.

• Saturday - I woke up feeling better then I had but then I had that awful nose-blowing incident. I shudder just thinking about that. I went for a drive with no problems.

• Sunday was the day I stopped taking the prescribed narcotics and started popping over the counter stuff. That is a milestone for me. I am not much a pill popper unless I have to.

There you have it, the condensed version of recovering from a cochlear implant by yours truly.

READ THE FINE PRINT.

DISCHARGE INSTRUCTIONS FOLLOWING EAR OR TUMOR SURGERY
Don’t blow your nose for two weeks following ear surgery.

There it is printed, by a laser printer in crisp black font on this stark white sheet of paper. I have a few problems with how this is presented on this list. They should make that a smidgen bit bigger. They should have put this on a separate piece of paper, say a POSTER BOARD BILLBOARD for example, with big bold capitalized letters. Preferably, I think a flashing neon sign stating this would have gotten the message across. I feel that the concept would have been grasped with such clarity at that point that your average dumb blonde would have understood. Dumb who? Dumb me.

I had the pleasure this morning of getting up on a beautiful sunny day and started it off by gently blowing my nose with almost enough wind to move a dust bunny. HOLY SWEET MOTHER OF ALL SAINTS, I was frozen in pain and fear like I saw a rattlesnake. I sat there screaming silently. I thought my eyes were going to fall out and start a new life as marbles. I thought to myself, "did I just blow a fuse or fry an electrode or rip a stitch?" Moments felt like hours went by before I could move. However long it took, it really @#$%^&* hurt. Do yourself a favor, do not blow your nose, better yet, do not breathe through your nose, even better yet, forget that you have a nose. You can thank me later.

Lesson of today: Listen to what your doctor tells you, fine print and all.