Two contrasts: Walden Pond (above) , and reality Television (Everywhere all the time)
More about Walden Pond and Thoreau latter in this post.
Why do we need more reality Television shows?
The latest offering to make an entry is a show called "Stuck"
It is a 13 part series that follows seven women on their journey from being stuck-in-a-rut to being unstuck.
The official blurb of the series says it's about women women who are "stuck on bad habits, bad diets, and putting everyone else's needs first" And we are all lucky enough to be invited to watch as they stick together and learn the secrets of a healthy lifestyle to get "un-stuck for good".
Are you riveted yet? Well I blew this off as being a tad temporal, but I have to watch now because I saw a clip of one of the lucky seven.
In the clip we see Nicole, a 28 year old mother and wife. When interviewed at the gym in her attempt to improve and get "unstuck" she tells us "I'd like to have my 14 year old body again."
God help us!
I quickly went for my old photo album and grabbed my grade 8 graduation photograph form Ellesmere Public school. There I was all 4'8", 100 honking pounds in a 3 piece suit sans the jacket (Just shirt , tie and horrible vest) My hair had the David Partridge look going on. The colour of my ensemble clashed horribly and the look on my face was "God I don't want to go to high school. I am Wedgie material for sure"!
There is not a bone in my body that would want to look like this ever again.
I suspect men are different from women in this question. Girls mature much faster than boys and at 14 some look like 19 year olds. Still, I find it alarming that someone in their late 20's would want to look 14 again.
I started to ask myself, "am I stuck"?
Yup. Everyday still deaf as a stump. A cochlear implant will never change that fact. It gives me sound now and new way of hearing as long as I have the magnet on my head.
All of us get "stuck" now and again, and perhaps ruts are longer than we want them to be. But at this point in my life I have to be thankful for all the things I have.
I feel blessed most days to have the love and support of a wonderful family. I could write volumes of what I am thankful for. I came so close to checking out on September 9th, 2007.
For some reason I got parked in a coma and woke up deaf latter that month.
I woke up different.
I must be stuck. Every day I wake up and want the world a little bit better.
Every day I want to be better myself.
My world is different now, and simple.
I want to make the world better, if I can.
I want my son to remember his Father, years from now for something good.
If I can affect the quality of a day, any day, in a positive way, that is the highest of arts. That is my goal everyday . Yes that was Henry David Thoreau's quote and noblest goals, and I now make it mine.
Every day do the same thing: "Affect the quality of the day" For the better.
Every single day!
If that is "stuck in a rut", then so be it.
I like this rut!
I'm not stuck at all. I choose it. Everyday when I wake up, I choose to be the same positive guy.
Maybe I can option a reality show?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
My Rut: "To Affect The Quality Of The Day"
Looking For Slash's Hat
I'm dog tired. We have been running the roads since 9 am this morning looking for a hat.
Not just any hat but something similar to what Slash from Guns N' Roses wear.
Dan has requested one for a special graduation party that he is going to in June.
We know it is important as he as asked us daily for the last month.
We have been on many internet sites, on E-bay and other local second hand sites.
Today we went to Rock t shirt stores. Many of them. up and down malls kiosk and in record shops.
We even tried some formal rental shops.
I am empty handed.
My post today is a bit of a plea for help.
If you know of anywhere we can buy, can you let us know?
The Guitar boy only has one grade 8 graduation.
One party after it that means so much to him.
It has been a tremendously trying year for him with our (Janet and mine) health issues.
I really would be pleased to find him one, without paying a Kings ransom plus shipping and handling.
It is after all to be used for one night.
One amazing night I gotta figure for a 14 year old.
I know he would be over the moon.
Warmly,
David
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
SUV Never Made Sense To Me.
The above editorial cartoon ran in our national newspaper two days ago. I chuckled and enjoyed it for reasons most of us would. It makes light of the mentality that driving a huge SUV to drop young Billy or Mary off at school , is just a huge waste of a precious resource and a silly drain of ones financial resources to boot. If a Prius or a Honda Civic can accomplish the same goal, then why not? It makes good economical sense and for God sakes it helps the environment.
Yesterday, a Gas Guzzling SUV driver took offense to the above cartoon and wrote the editor of the Globe to register his complaint.
Here is his letter entitled Park the Insults to SUV owners!
"So the gas guzzlers as well as their drivers are big, flashy, pretentious and dumb"? Big? It may come as a surprise that some people need space to transport things. And some actually need four wheel drive capabilities. With a cottage up North, you can count me in those categories.
Flashy and pretentious? Those are just words used by jealous people to describe those who can afford more.
As for dumb, insults aren't funny. I'm leaving - in my big, comfortable, four wheel drive, high end SUV."
(I withheld the name of the writer to protect his silly pretentious ass.)
OK this is what I read this morning. I laughed my ass off at this letter because it is everything the editorial cartoon set out to prove. This guys cares not about money, the environment or leaving some patch of earth in decent shape for the next generation. It is however important to him that he leaves his name and city for all the country to note that he drives a high end SUV. His words not mine.
Here is my letter that I just emailed today and wait for possible publication in tomorrow's daily.
Editor:
We all do some days I suspect, but this family is conscious of the environment and painfully aware of the high price of gas and the high price future generations will pay for our gas guzzling attitudes. I look for alternatives such as delivery offered by retailers, flagging my load of drywall with a red flag as it hangs out of the trunk of my very fuel efficient smaller car, friends with vans etc. SUV's are not the most fuel efficient modes of "transporting things" that the reader needs to do.
I, like many of us in Ontario, have traveled to cottages, camps, fishing spots, ski resorts, and many Provincial Parks for over 35 years. I have yet to require the use of a four wheel drive. My family at this point, has chosen not to travel excessively on weekends because of our nature of conserving precious energy where possible.
For edification here are some definitions:
| 2. | characterized by assumption of dignity or importance. |
| 3. | making an exaggerated outward show; ostentatious. |
Whitby, Ontario
Now my good blog readers. I have nothing against SUV owners. I do however have a problem with using gas guzzling vehicles to do tasks that a much more environmentally friendly vehicle will do. If conspicuous consumption is your goal, I might suggest you would get more accolades from driving a Prius than a Escalade. And jealous? Not me. Not even for a second. I might be jealous of Smart cars, Prius, and other green vehicles. The SUV's that clog the school parking lots, line the highways and overhang on the sidewalks are just silly and embarrassing in my view.
There are many alternatives to this breed of car.
I want to leave the world in better shape than it was left to me.
It is important to me. This may seem like a small token effort, but my little Mazda 3 gets amazing gas mileage. The hatchback allows me to load most goods offered for sale at Home Depot or Costco. Gas is over $1.29 a liter here today. The drilling of the tar sands in northern Alberta to satisfy our insatiable urge for gas, is creating a toxic scourge on the environment that will never be repaired. If we slow down now, we might save a few birds in the sad but very least.
The toxic tailing ponds that are left behind long after the drilling is done and the oil is sucked out of the ground will leave more contaminated water than the Three Mile Island and Chernobyl combined. It will be a reminder of what caused the cancers, what made the ducks go away and how silly we were at one point in history when we thought that big flashy high-end SUV would make us feel better.
"There must be more to life than having everything" - Maurice Sendak
Ecologically friendly in our little piece of the world, as best we can,
David
Monday, May 12, 2008
Got Magnet?
I seem to be acting a bit funny about my appearance now that I sport the very visible workings (cap and ear piece) of the hidden cochlear implant.
Being a male that shaves my head down to "wood" my CI head cap, is clearly defined in all it's gray glory for the world to see.
The gray cap is held stuck in place on top of cochlear implant that was surgically embedded in my head on April 8th, is held in place by a magnet on the side of my head where the CI lies, a few scant millimeters beneath my skin.
Women and men with plenty of hair to hide the "power factory and processing unit that the cap provides, are likely to do a little "comb over" adjustment to hide the cap. I do not have that option. Genetically I am predisposed to male pattern baldness. Any growth that fights that gene looks silly, and I have chosen to use a #1 razor to "take er all the way down" for years.
The head cap is also attached by a wire to a microphone that loops around my ear.
It is noticeable.
I watch people watch me.
To be perfectly honest, until I got my implant activated and was given the processing gear, I had never witnessed an actual implant in use on the street. Not once in my life. Not even in a movie.
I write about this today after a day out in stores and other public venues. I got a ton of stares today. Part of me wants to share my enthusiasm and new found knowledge with the public at large that gives me the wide eyes and the look of: "Oh my God, what's that thing on your head" look.
I want to rush over and explain the technology.
The other part of me wants to give back a "Whadda you staring at? Why don't you take a picture".
I wonder if people are trying to figure out what it is on the side of my head, or if the question of what holds it there is more on their minds.
Being so immersed today in the cochlear implant world, I wrongly assumed that most of the world knows what the dang thing me bob is that is stuck on the side of my head. This is so far from reality.
Eight months ago, I , knew nothing of them as I lay in a hospital bed deaf as a stump back in October of last year when Janet talked to me about them. Still being in a huge fog, days out of a coma, and just off life support I nodded as she showed me information on them and explained to me using the white board. I assumed, everyone knew about these except me. Wrong again.
Janet grew up with a very hard of hearing mother (she has 40% in one ear) and a deaf sister who actually received a cochlear implant seven years ago. She not only knew of them, she knew people who had them.
When I was activated over a week ago, a magnetic head cap was stuck in place to power and process the speech heard through the mic hanging on my ear, I was sporting a new look for the world to watch and wonder. I left the clinic with gray cap in place, wandering out into the world. An audience I just assumed viewed these head caps on some sort of frequent basis. There are after all about 3 million deaf people in Canada. I do not have the figure on number of profoundly deaf like myself, but I assumed that cochlear implants were performed on a regular basis. Clearly not the case. Funny how I thought that as have never seen one before mine.
At first, the stares I got at first were kind of cool.
I thought they were stares of , "Oh look there's another one of those cochlear implants I have read about, and seen often".
When in reality the gapes and gawks were in curious wonderment.
There is a low percentage of general knowledge of this amazing technology for the deaf.
I have to keep this in perspective when I get stares in the line ups at the grocery store.
When I engage eye contact, they avert quickly. "oh shit, I got caught staring at the freak with the magnet on his head. I better look away in case he's an escaped convict with a device to monitor if he left his cell. Abort the eyes! Abort the eyes! Pull out! Pull out! Oh, too late he saw me".
I have to believe that the cognizance of CI's is getting better.
There are now actors playing with CI's in afternoon soap operas I am told.
I saw a clip of the Kentucky Derby winning owner's son bouncing up and down after the race, with the tell tale wire and head cap that gives away a CI guy or kid in this case.
You never realize how many white Mazda 3's there are in the world until you own one. Then the suckers are everywhere. Too many!
I probably will see CI folks everywhere now that I have one.
With my CI and the gear to process and power it attached to my head as I wander around life these days, I am more than willing to share my story about the amazing technology that exists for the deaf. It is my hope that by sharing my story, more deaf people will consider this modern miracle to give them back the hearing part of their lives. There is hope for many who thought they had none. I was one of them. Where there was once silence, there is now sound!
I was and still am, profoundly deaf with no chance of it ever coming back. No hearing aid would provide a smidgen of sound. Cochlear implant surgery gave me a huge piece of my life back, and if I can share this with anyone who will listen, I am happy too.
I just need to get over the stares, gapes and gawks, and the rubberneckers who do double takes as they drive by and see a guy with a magnet stuck to his head.
It will take time, and I am indeed grateful for my new hearing. I need to put this back in perspective of whence I came from. I will never tire of answering questions about the technology.
There is some pride in showing that the "thing" on my head is not a hearing aid, does not amplify sound, and does not act as a blue tooth device when a cellular is in the vicinity.
It does replace the method of hearing that we all have or had.
There is a t-shirt that Abbie showed me. Abbie is a fellow CI buddy that has walked me through many a dark day in my deafness, and showed me the ropes gearing up for a CI implant.
She emailed me links to shirts that we can buy and I want one.
"Got Magnet"? is the shirt front line.
I do indeed.
And I am as happy as a clam to tell you about my magnets, if you're interested,
Warmly,
David
But How Does It Work??
While my speech recognition becomes clearer, my insatiable urge to understand the process grows.
I am on day 11 in my new hearing journey. After my last audiologist visit, my cochlear implant processor was mapped with two new programs. One called HIRes, the other called HiRes Fidelity 120. I am to try them both in various conditions and scenarios.
I am preferring the Fidelity 120 program. My problem, or issues if you will is not with my speech recognition. No it lies in the geek "Curios George" in me, that needs to know what the devil does Fidelity 120 and HiRes mean, and how on God's green earth do they work. This quest is now consuming most of my days.
In the initial HiRes program that Advanced Bionics (the company that makes my CI) worked into the CI programing, incoming sound is filtered into 16 bands. I wont go into the physics of what a spectral band is. It is a complicated little nugget, that even with my love and knowledge of physics, took me a few dinners to digest. Anyway if I can boil it down to a personal level; Fidelity 120 was designed and implemented for occasions when the listening environment becomes more challenging. Like in a crowded restaurant for example. It helps to separate speech from noise or distinguish multiple talkers.
The 120 also was also designed to help facilitate music perception and appreciation. The music and multiple conversations in crowded noisy environments are always the last to be conquered, if at all, in cochlear implanted folks. I still struggle with both greatly. I do have to remind myself that 12 days ago I could not hear a plane fly by my ear at eye level.
My problem has always been through my life; "I need to know how it works"
I am one of those people that will not accept that something just "does". I need to know how it "does".
The amount of cochlear reading research is now consuming me. My search for more answers to complicated questions, is becoming disturbing to me. I spend hours at a time trying to understand jargon like spectral bands, sequential firing, electrode array, and various other terms that hint of normal human flesh and blood terms, but are part of my new cyborg world.
In the end I suppose, it will mean very little other than my improvement in quality of hearing, therefore quality of life, using different methods of processing sounds.
Music is important to me and always played an important part in my life. So many moods, state of mind and moments are defined, lifted, enhanced and sculpted into memory because of the music in my life. It is important to me.
In the wonderful advanced world of cochlear implants, speech recognition has improved greatly over the years with new technology like the Fidelity 120. Music appreciation is only getting slightly better, from what I read.
I am running out of White papers, Medical reports, books, Magazines with reports and articles on cochlear implant success, journals and Hearing Journal submissions to read. I need to read more "stuff"!
I came to the conclusion that more research needs to be written up and posted for geeks like me with way too much time on my hands, when I goggled "HiRes vs. Fideltiy 120" last night:
The first "hit" was Advanced Bionics home site paper comparison, that I have read many times.
The second "hit" was "Life in a cone of silence". My post from a few days ago comparing my two mappings.
"No, you don't understand" I screamed.
"I'm the guy who writes that blog, and I need MORE information."
Hmmmmmmmmm?
I do need more of a life.
Time to kick back and just enjoy my new hearing I suspect.
Warmly,
David
Sunday, May 11, 2008
The Gate In Our Yard
The Gate in Our YardThe gate between back and front.
The bridge between period of time.
A pathway down an unseen adventure in life.
Opening to a new world on the other side.
Going from a silent world, to the digital hearing world of zero's and one's .
Walking down a path and opening a gate to new phases in life.
Remembering when little boys chased through the gate, then hid during warm long days filled with hide and seek.
Hearing the "clack" of gate closing as adventurous little boys left the safe confines of back yard, to see what the other side of the gate had to offer a boy and his mates for the day.
The gate that opens to a new world.
This is where we live.
This is our gate this morning on Mothers day.
For one brief moment in time, the gate is symbolic of moving through one phase of our lives, and inaugurate another.
A passage to another place, another time, a different fresh outlook on life, and in a new hearing world.
The gate that blossoms many memories on today, Mothers Day, of a time when Mother and son spent hours taking in the beauty of the blooming and blossoming flowering spectacles that were ever so brief in time.
Janet sitting with Dan, pointing and naming each and every plant, tree, shrub, perennial, and annual.
Little man oblivious to the fact that the names will never leave his fresh young mind, and will serve him well through life in his appreciation of beauty and knowledge of, and whence.
Young Daniel in silent appreciation of his mothers knowledge of each and every stitch of greenery that adorns the landscape.
A picture for the mind of both Mother and son sitting so patient with one and other for hours in the garden.
Both in awe and wonder of nature, and of each other.
The love of a son for his Mother, and his Mother for her son.
Father in awe of Mother and son and their amazing relationship.
The gate in our yard today, on this day, that is filled with many memories of Mothers day past, and the opening to the other side of many more to come.
The Gate in our Lives.
Happy Mothers day!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Learning The Words
It has now been just over one week since sound has re-entered my life. It has been an emotional week, and one that requires patience for all parties involved in my life. Notably, me.
After six days struggling a bit here and there, and struggling a lot in crowded areas, I went to my audiologist for my first "mapping". She was quite concerned at the fact that I had my volume "cranked" to the max. When she sent me out into my new world, the volume was placed at the mid-way point. When I left her small office, where voices are confined to 30 square feet and 8 foot ceilings, I struggled with comprehension in the big bad world of many people and much sound. So I naturally assumed that raising the volume level on my processor would cure this inconvenience. It did not. What it did do was decrease my battery life to a 12 hour day. Much to my chagrin, our day has a few more hours, metric, military, or imperial, twenty four is the number. Volume "hogs" have shorter days I'm afraid.
I am still riding a high of being back in the land of the hearing. You have no idea the joy it brings me picking up Dan from school and listening to review of the day. Getting only part of it at first go is still amazing. In my old deaf world, we both sat in silence if I was driving, as to not distract my eyes from the road. Reading lips requires concentration, as does driving. Friends don't let friends lip read and drive.
The artificial sound of the cochlear implant world is far from perfect, and I'm not going to pretend that life is back to normal for me. Far from it.
Many sounds I hear are still confusing. The din of construction site or a road crew sounds the same as Speeder barking. The ring of our phone resembles two sticks being "cracked" hard against one and other. So many words sound similar.
My first week, as I noted, tried the patience of many. I called it the "rule of three". The number of times I "begged your pardon"
"Cam pe po roo dee rumple tarting horse fum bwead"?
"Pardon me. Janet can you give me that one more time"?
Janet would slow down and let me lip read as well. I was still in learning mode.
"Can pee know truth the rumplestiltset war won bread"?
"Honey I've almost got it. I think your asking me about bread. Am I right"?
"Can we go to the tupereremuoiuet for some bread"?
At the third go, I generally had most of it and put together the request of going to the supermarket for some bread. By end of long days, Janet would be getting tired of saying everything three times. I was excited about hearing her voice, and getting back into the world, but I knew that it could be better.
Volume was not the answer.
Trip to Suzanne the audiologist and two different programs were put on my processor. One is called "HighRes" the other is called "Fidelity 120". I had heard the two terms but did not know what they did different or what it would mean to me in my simple little world. I had to get my bionic buddies Abbie and Sam to help explain these to me. Quoting them directly is easier than having me put into words for your edification.
Abbie: "HiRes speech strategy uses all 16 electrodes to capture sound but only one or two at a time will fire. If a noise was made in the lower frequency, the processor will process that and transmit it to the electrodes that match those frequencies and it will fire one at a time or two at a time. One or two electrodes will respond with, "Hey thats noise matches me, I'm going to fire (fire) your next, GO!" With music, it might sound like you aren't catching everything.
Fidelity 120 is the latest speech strategy from Advanced Bionics. This speech strategy will distribute the sound over all the electrodes instead of just firing just one or two at a time. The same noise will be processed with Fidelity 120 over several electrodes which brings more depth and richness to music because there is so many different frequencies and pitches going on in music that Fidelity 120 tries to capture it across all the frequencies. A couple of electrodes will capture the flute, the other electrode will capture the bass guitar, the other violin.
Mind you all of this happens thousands of times per second. "
Sam Spritzer (Fastest 5K runner with a CI that I know): "David...in straightforward layman's terms....without the statistical jargon. Hi Res came before Fidelity. Fidelity processes information faster than HiRes. Fidelity is nanoseconds faster than HiRes...therefore, has more clarity and is crisper. Fidelity is another option and not necessarily the best option. It only means that AB has come out with another strategy that is available to CIers. Consider Fidelity an advanced option to Hi-Res. There are some situations where Fidelity is better and others where Hi-Res is better. In any case, the optimal configuration would be the best of each where you truly recognize and appreciate the difference enough to pick one over the other irrespective of superiority. In other words, whichever program sounds best to you is the one you should go with..and that is, 1 2 or 3!"
So as I got my head around that wonderful information from 2 knowledgeable CI buddies, I adjusted to my two new programs of HiRes and Fidelity. I found that one was not necessarily better than the other, but distinctly different. I gave them both a thorough workout over the past two days. I like the Fidelity better in most situations. I believe that processing nanoseconds faster is my kind of sound reproduction. I want my information decoded and want it done in nanoseconds damn it!
My volume is now back to the halfway point, where it should be. I don't want short days, although I have four batteries at the "ready" if I go "down".
It is an unkind reminder, when I loose power, of the dark silent days of my 230 day period in deafness. Twice my rechargeable power has lost its life and plunged me into the scary frightening world that silence manifests.
In seven days I have become so accustomed to the beautiful sounds of my personal concerto of life, especially the comforting sound of hearing my own voice for the first time in eight long months, that losing it, even briefly, sends me into a panic mode.
It scares me to recollect what that dark past was like.
With two new programs loaded "on board", and actively listening to the world at alternate turns, it has ramped up my comprehension. The "rule of three", is quickly becoming the "rule of two". Two repeats of statement, question, or observation generally nails it. If I have the subject, I can pretty much get it in one go. Janet is thankful, as is Guitar Boy!
Talking books are helping. "Is Your Momma a Lama" and "Doctor Desoto" have helped my brain learn what words sound like. The added bonus about reading about a wily mouse dentist that outwits a fox with a impacted tooth and an appetite for mice, has made learning words a digital treat.
I will head to the library today and hope that "Hop on Pop" has been returned by little Billy so I can have a bit of variety in my scholastic efforts to learn how words sound. Just imagine the world of difference in my digital world when I work with:
- Pup is up.
- Pup in cup.
- Pup on cup.
- Cup on pup.
- Cup on cup.
- We like to hop.
- We like to hop on top of Pop.
- Stop, you must not hop on Pop.
David
Friday, May 9, 2008
brangelina's Quest For World Baby Domination
The Globe and Mail, our national paper, still believes and practices the fact that good writing and thought provoking essays will triumph over pictures of the latest Hanah Kentucky or Arkansas or whatever her name is. You know, the Disney girl. The girl that may, or may not have, posed nude.
The Globe did not, or would they care about, any of this nonsense in any event.
The Globe did however, much to my chagrin, carry a brief piece on "brangelina"
I did not read it. There are many other choices of newspapers I could choose from if this were my bailiwick.
I prefer not to indulge in the latest celebrity sitings or latest DWI or any latest on the goings on of the rich and famous. I only have so many reading hours in the day, and I want to feed my mind well, challenge, and learn at the same time.
I don't give a rodents rectum about the latest trip to Botswana that "brangelina" made to swoop up another baby for their collection. This is not important in my world.
It did make me cringe the other day, when I happen to read one such daily trash papers that have been left lying on the table at Fourbucks. This headline complete with photo caught my eye: "Hollywood starlet Angelina Jolie will adopt an Indian baby from an orphanage and name the child "India"
My good God, where do these good people come up with these creative names. I thank the Gods of daily headlines that they did not adopt a little girl from the largest city in Saskatchewan; Regina! Boys can be cruel with names when creating limerick's.
What if the orphanage in Dildo Lake Newfoundland were next on their list of hits to stalk up their baby cupboards? (And yes Dildo Lake does exist. I have been through the nice town while traveling through one of my favorite provinces. I had a lovely Lobster chowder, baked stuffed squid and salt cod. It was delicious. As was the breathtaking scenery around Dildo Lake.)
What would they name a young male orphan be if they flew into Agay France for a wee look see at the local kids at the kidsrus mart?
Babes Well in the U.K. might offer than more than fair share of good looking girls for the brangelina. But those poor orphans in the town of Assloss Scotland don't stand a chance in high school. Kids can be a cruel regardless of who your adopted parents are, if your named from your place of hijacking.
There are two Bald Knobs, one in Arkansas, and one in Australia. "brangelina" prefers exotic locales for her latest collection, so the US kids orphans might get lucky.
The orphans from the village in Turkey called Batman, have a shot at one of the cooler names I suspect. I always wanted to have a superhero name. How cool is that?
It's a toss up between Cockplay,U.K., Cockshot U.K., and Cocktown in Ireland. You call the sho,t I suppose. If you add the town of Condom in France to this list, it might just save a few unwanted orphans.
And what about poor orphan baby that might end up in the loving arms of "brangelina " from "Dissapointment, Kentucky". What do you imagine his or her LSAT scores to be like?
Anyway, If your going to have so many adopted little bairns that you have start using names of the locations of finds. Let's hope for the kid's sake that many of the above locales are skipped on their world quest to dominate the adoptive world.
What in a name anyway?
Warmly,
David
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Mapping The CI-Borg
Today is my first mapping. We will make the trek to Sunnybrook Health and Science and visit the Cochlear Implant clinic. There I will meet with my audiologist Suzanne and wax or wane about my first week with the processor firing electrical impulses to different regions of my auditory nerve in my brain.
I have a journal of notes of what works in my world, and what fails. I have my list of letters from the alphabet, that sound like mush to me currently and she will tweak, fatten, soften, adjust and give me new programs to go away with until I come back again in a weeks time.
I feel like I am doing pretty good. If you compare things to my previous deaf world, I am on top of moon. My comprehension is around the 70% range, I am guessing. But I know I can, and will get better.
These letters, and words that start with these letters all sound different than what they are intended to sound like: " D, E, F, Q, S, T, Y, and Z" are the hardest for me to get. Some of them like T and S, sound the same to me.
I have to remind myself daily, that a cochlear implant is providing me with a sense of sound, not replacing the sound that used to live in my world. That old method of hearing is long gone. The speech processor selects and arranges sound for me and spits them into my auditory nerves. It is not the same nor will it ever be. It is up to me to work with it to get it as close as I can to old world David.
I think the volume is fine in my digital cochlear artificial sound world, in fact it seems like if the volume is lower, the comprehension is better. I do strain in crowded situations. walking through the mall last night, Janet's questions or comments were falling on deaf ears. It is frustrating for her, but we have a great deal of one-on-one time at home. That is where I seem to excel in comprehension. Janet's patience, as always, has been amazing. I ask her to repeat herself at least three times when we are in a crowd situation like eating out or walking in a mall.
Music is still a wall of mush. Although familiar songs have some semblance of normality. The unmistakable finger style jazzy/bluesy of a guitar by Mark Knopfler in Dire straits is unmistakable, but it sounds like it is being played out of an ancient am radio.
I seemed to have differentiation of peoples voices, which is amazing for week one. So far people sound different to one and another. This differentiation is good!
The cochlear implant veteran stories of man, women and child all sounding the same, and resembling the Munchkins from the wizard of Oz after a snout full of helium have not been the case with me. And I am thankful for this. Speeder's bark does however sound the same as the doorbell. I might change the doorbell or get a new dog. :)
So I will let Suzanne judge my level of hearing competence and then tinker, refine, purify and cleanse the digital zero's and one's that make up my new hearing world.
Being a Ci-Borg is hard work!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Kijiji Krazy
We are moving in about a week's time. We found our little slice of heaven in the downtown area of the town we live in. Nothing is ever for sale in the mature heart of our town. We got lucky and jumped on this quickly.
There is no absence or shortage of beautiful big old trees that line the skinny streets that are named after their first four inhabitants: Maple, Oak, Walnut and Chestnut .
Gardens in mature neighborhoods always showcase the finest perennials that make the neighboring gardeners from the suburbs drool. The sheer size of the Oaks and Maple's cause suburbia's patrolling SUV's and their journey to and from the schools downtown, to crane their necks in awe.
Hosta's are the size of the small cars that are needed here, as a result of tiny efficient driveways in this hood.
No two houses look the same on any of the tree named streets. Some have historic plaques.
It is like going back in time and visiting the Andy and Aunt Bea, or dropping in for a slice of warm pie at the Cleavers where Ward and June toil in their gardens for the opening of the spring season. Beaver and Eddie toss a football in the neighborhood park.
It is a place in life where you park your car in your driveway at 6 on Friday and it sits until you tire of walking to the neighborhood shops,book stores, second hand stores, library, cafes and parks. I doubt I will tire of this. The absence of franchise blazing stores and fast food outlets is so noted. There are no drive thru's anywhere here.
So we are busy packing and getting rid of excess in our lives. It's not as if we are becoming Buddhist, we just have too much stuff in our lives. Excess of furniture, after many years has bogged us down. It is a time for renewal and rejuvenation in our lives. We are getting rid of much, and updating some of look that defined our surroundings for many years. Some of our "ideas" about decorating no longer reflect what we are about, or our thoughts on life and it's surroundings at this point.
We are having a bit of a cleansing of our possessions if you will, and it feels damn good! It is like a colonic move to the four corners. A purge of extreme suburbia trappings to get to the heart of the town.
In order to do this, we have posted or listed much of our excess furniture on local internet sites that keep the underground economy moving. We have picked out a whole new look and style for our new smaller house. It is time!
We have dropped of boxes and boxes of DVD's, CD's, books, some electronics, blankets, clothes etc to the local charities. I feel good about doing it. It is not crap, it all can be sold to help out.
In the past couple of months, we have successfully sold off items that are no longer required, or will not fit into our new (to us) smaller 50's bungalow. It has been amusing at times dealing with the public at large!
First of all I can respect negotiating on price of items. I have no problem with the act of getting a better price most of the time. I do get frustrated when you list a Buffet and Hutch, or a kitchen dining set of amazing quality from a top notch, well know supplier, that you paid about $1,000 a few years ago, and then list it for about 10% of its value, and you get offers in email that start "will you take $35"? Or "How low will you go"? This is after your heart is broken at putting it on the site for a fraction of the value.
"Do you have a van we could use if we buy it" is standard on big items.
For a $40 we have listed an amazing tempered glass desk that cost me in the $350 range and served my home office well for years, I am fielding calls that want me to deliver across the city of Toronto. Let's check the price of gas just for fun. Let me see if it fits in a Mazda, then let me put $50 worth of gas in to drive the $40 sale to your house.
But hey, in this world of eBay, Kijiji, Craigslist, and the Usedyourtownanywhere.com's of the world, you have to expect it.
I have offered the furniture to local charities and even they seem snooty about the condition it may or may not be in.
We thought we could help someone out with it by donation it on the local Kijiji site.
Kijiji means "village". And hey, were all in this global "village" together. So if I can help someone I will, but I do draw a line in the sand.
What I did not expect was this: After listing a well loved older couch that resided in our basement for the "kids" to x-box on when they visited Dan, we listed it for around $20. The thinking was, it was perfectly good, no rips, stains or signs of abuse. But it was pretty dated. but surely there was some soul out there that got kicked out of house, or a young lady leaving home for her first apartment that might like a great couch for $20.
No chance. No takers. Sat in the virtual world of used.com for an eternity.
But we want this gone out of our lives, and there is no way in hell I am paying movers by the hour to take it to our new little nest.
So we changed all the local internet ads to read: "Nice couch, lightly used, yada yada yada, picture included "Free to a reasonable home."
Much to our surprise we got a few replies. Most of them were like this"Can you to deliver this to me in Bowmanville"
This would be 3 towns away.
"I'll take it but can you deliver it to my girlfriends house up north"?
Funny to hear in my new Cochlear world what Yuck Fou sounds like. It has a digital ring to it now.
Let me give you something free, and oh, allow me please to rent a truck, drive to your town, carry it up your stairs, and into your house.
I am a good guy some days. Some days I just shake my head.
Charity begins at home, but does not include delivery.
warmly,
David
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Sounds Of My Son.
I never figured the guitar solo in "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath, could melt my heart!
Yesterday was day five with my newly activated cochlear implant, and I am stepping out a bit in my comfort zone and discovering new sounds that I have not heard in eight months.
Dan, my 14 year old guitar virtuoso, has been ramping up his guitar playing since my ears went away for good last September. I know how amazing he has been doing, as Janet would fills me in nightly and waxes about his latest feat of music mastery.
Dan has been patient with my new method of hearing, and what it can and cannot do, since my "boot up" last Thursday.
Last night he asked me (hearing his voice alone made me hold back an approaching snot bubble) if I would come to his room and hear him play his guitar for the first time since September of last year.
He knows that my learning curve of sounds bends at a slow rate as I master my digital world of hearing. Music cannot be comprehended like it used to. He has watched with eager anticipation, as I attempt to hear songs on the radio, (poor results so far) music on CD (a little better, and songs on television (not great at all).
He plugged his Gibson SG into his amp and started into the solo of Paranoid. He looked at me wide eyed with so much hope for me and said "Can you hear this Dad"?
I could indeed, but it was still a bit fuzzy, and not able to be identified.
"It's the solo from Paranoid" he proudly told me as his fingers flew at what seemed like light speed.
I know the solo part from memory from a time when he and I would listen to it over and over as I watched his eyes roll around and dream of one day mastering the feat on his Gibson.
It is indeed no longer his dream!
His fingers flew, and the sound became clearer for me.
His concentration, his cute little grin of accomplishment.
His look of "I hope my Dad can hear this" was so profound, so unmistakable.
I stood up and applauded after the mini concert.
"Dan, I am so proud of you. That was amazing"!
"That was just incredible. Your guitar is amazing, young man"
His typical " Aw shucks, it is really not much" humble look came over his beautiful face that seconds ago showed his exuberance.
He was so happy that I could hear it. That fact in itself was more important than being able to lick a solo off in amazing quality and artistic beauty.
As much as I sat in silence for eight months and felt the concern and distress of missing the world I once knew, I sometimes forgot that a little man missed his Dad's praise.
He was so happy that I could hear his accomplishments that he works on nightly.
The "I love you Dad" spoken after the Gibson was laid down in silence, was heard so clear, so beautiful, so articulate, so heartfelt.
As much as the solo from Black Sabbath was slipping from my memory in my silent world, I had almost forgotten how much a Fathers praise means to his Son.
We both went to bed last night, happy boys!
Warmly, and in lovingly sound,
David
Monday, May 5, 2008
World Laughter Day
Yesterday was World Laughter Day. (WLD)
Did you participate?
Did you know about it?
Shame eh, because this wonderful movement was created in 1998, by a Dr. Madan Kataria, the founder of Laughter Yoga movement. Ten years ago it was created to celebrate through laughter, world peace.
It was, and is, intended to build up a world wide awareness of our global friendship through laughter.
It has grown incredibly since it's inception ten years ago. I hope the growth continues.
There are over 6,000 Laughter Clubs worldwide. They are on all 5 continents.
So why a "World Laughter Day"?
With all the war and terrorism and uncertainty on the planet now, and ten years ago, when this great idea started, the idea that laughter, being such a positive and powerful emotion, it might just be the catalyst to change the world in a peaceful and positive way. The organizers felt that if laughter directly impacts one’s electro-magnetic field and creates a positive aura around that person, then what about growing the basic theory from an individual impact to a larger scale. When a group of individuals laugh together, they create a collective community aura. Electromagnetic waves from a group who are laughing every day form a protective envelope around that area to protect it from negative forces (similarly, people believed in ancient India that one saintly person was enough to protect the entire village).
Laughter is a positive and powerful emotion that has all the ingredients required for individuals to change themselves and to change the world in a peaceful and positive way.
Laughter is a universal language, which has the potential to unite humanity without religion. Laughter can establish a common link between various religions and create a new world order. The idea may sound over-ambitious, and maybe it is. But maybe it is not.
In my little world, whatever is easy not to do, is also easy to do.
It is the deep belief of the organizers that laughter and only laughter can unite the world, building up a global consciousness of brotherhood and friendship.
Canada had several cities with events. Even the 13 degree weather did not deter the people in Quebec from celebrating with laughter for 3 hours. Toronto had several family events that attracted thousands to enjoy a fun day laughing away and raising awareness about the power that laughter has to change the world.
In San Fransisco an event at Golden Gate Park had chuckles and giggles for over 3 hours yesterday.
Asia, Africa, Australia, and Europe all participated in many towns and cities.
We really are a global village, and laughter can be a powerful force in healing ailments and in healing animosity towards peoples. Hell we all live in the same wonderful world, lets all chuckle together. If for only a few hours on one day, it just might do something amazing.
Say HO HO HA HA HA to the answering machines around the planet.
I love this idea, and I love the idea that anytime, everyone in the world is encouraged to come together in unity and look at the mess we make when we fight each other! Anytime the words "global friendship" is used, I sit up and take notice.
Anytime I hear someone laugh, (notice I said HEAR? One of the first things I heard on May 1st when I was activated was the sound of laughter outside of the hospital. Not only was the sound unmistakable in my digital hearing world, but it brought a tear to my eyes) I take notice and smile.
Laughter can and does make a difference.
Did you hear about the dyslexic agnostic who doubted the existence of Dog?
Warmly,
David
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Eat To Win?
It is interesting how the best intentions of eating good, can get blown out of the water some days.
Yesterday started well.
A fresh pineapple was peeled, chopped and nestled comfortably in a bowl beside newly defrosted blueberries from my birth place, Nova Scotia.
Way excessive of a dollop of yogurt was added to said bowl. Nice start so far.
Stinging Nettles tea was introduced to the table as always my drink of choice. Udo's oil in capsule form was downed with tea. I finished with my daily glass of Vegetable cocktail, in the unforeseen event of a dearth of broccoli in my day.
The breakdown started I believe, when I toasted some crumpets as an addition to the healthy, antioxidant, nutritional laden start to the day.
I lathered on butter over the warm soft and spongy delight with it's characteristic holes. The crumpet is designed by the Brit's in the belief that adding pores to the spongy delight is necessary to sop up as much butter as possible. The pores that absorb also serve a dual purpose of allowing an additional topping to be lathered on top of the wonderful Anglo-Saxon invention.
I opted to go with the decadent taste of Greaves pure raspberry jam from Niagara-on the-Lake Ontario. Pure Jam's are the only way to travel when lathering up the historic crumpled cake. Artificial jams are a crime against humanity and an assault on the tongue.
Funny characteristic about me. More is better than less when it comes to Jams. For that matter the simple economic principle about excess applies to crumpets as well.
I devoured two of the brilliant British contributions to my culinary world on this day.
I tried to get back on track for the lunch meal. Being a rainy, chilly and damp day, I went with a warm and filling potato and bacon soup, laden with garlic croûtons. I split a wonderful chicken breast in a wrap with Janet.
Back on track to more of a healthy day?
Perhaps, but also on track to a bit of weight increase.
The attempt at eating right went due south by late afternoon.
It was not my intent. Speeder needed chewies. He requires the rawhide sticks at night. He can't end his day without his evening chew. If he could master a pipe I sometimes picture him laying on his couch potato in the late evening, puffing away on a polished cherry wood pipe while watching CNN.
"This is CNN" says the deep voiced James Earl Jones.
Speeder hears, "This is Dog Chows finest hour" mmmmmmmmmmmmm!
So off to Wally World where chewies are always a better financial proposition than "Pet Stupid" (Pet Smart).
Being close to the dinner hour, we figured we would grab a chicken breast or some pasta while in the cozy confines of Wally's magic kingdom and attempt to get back to health for the day.
Didn't happen. There was, however, some thought, and good intent for a pico second. There was even some actual searching for a healthy meal.
First some Ju Jubes appeared out of the blue. They seemed fresh and priced to sell at $2.89 for a huge bag. They claimed to be actual fruit, so what could be healthier than these Dare Ju Jubes that claimed real fruit filling?
Next I hit the chips and dip aisle. Lays had a sale that was too good to be true. Big bags, little price. More is better than less I recollected from my Economics 101 class millions of years ago in University. The theory also had a familiar ring to it from just this mornings crumpet and jam episode.
Dip was needed for Lays to be eaten properly of course.
Well then bags of whole wheat Tostitos jumped out at Janet and then into the cart they went. They came with need of another dip (spinach). An attempt at healthy. This dip was new and interesting. It was also shamelessly flaunted on television commercials the night prior. It had to be had. Damn you marketers!
Cookies were a void in our cupboard at home, so imagine my surprise to see big bags of Chunks Ahoy, on sale. And I do mean Big Bags!
Reisens chocolate treats magically appeared in our cart, cashews are always needed on a Saturday movie night.
On the way to the cash while watching for falling prices,we discovered a skid loaded with big cardboard boxes. These boxes were "variety packs" of chips. 28 sacs (en francais) of an assortment of Cheetos, Lays and Doritos. Priced to sell I might add! Such a deal not to be passed up.
Pepsi and iced tea filled up the rest of the cart.
No room for water, pasta or chicken.
One hundred and three dollars and we are out of there!
Wait, what about dinner?
Well of course Wally in his infinite wisdom, put a McDonald's in his backyard. Drive through looks like the way to go, Big Macs, fries, Crispy Chickens.
Hey I got my chicken!
Today is another day. I'm starting fresh.
Warmly, and in new hearing world,
David
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Special Place For Sound
Day 3 in my new digital world of sound and my level of excitement has not subsided in any form or fashion. I take nothing for granted in my new world that makes interesting interpretations of sound in my life.
My mood is the best it has been since my personal medical 9/11. My general feeling about "me" is on a huge up tick, as I have more confidence than I have ever had. Even wearing a visible gray "head cap" is kind of cool. I want to get a t-shirt that says, "ask me how I got this wicked scar and why I wear a tiny gray beenie on the side of my head"
I thought about putting the Wal-Mart happy face sticker on my CI head cap. Because I can, and it looks to be about the same size.
I love talking about my cochlear implant to anyone and everyone. Stopping strangers on the street, I fear is close.
"Hey, you don't know me, but I want you to say something, anything, and watch me nail it. I'll even close my eyes in case you think I'm cheating and reading your lips. Oh, okay, I see you are not from Canada, sorry to have grabbed you off the bus and altered your day. Carry on, no need to call the local law enforcement."
So you see my excitement.
Being part of the world again, is the way I describe having hearing with my CI over and over. In old Deaf world, I always felt like the non-English speaking cousin visiting from Lithuania for the summer. Don't understand a word of what's being said, but I have to stand or sit with the family while they laugh and giggle or oohhhhh and ahhhhh at amazing conversations that I know not one iota about.
Trips to the in-laws, grocery store, friends or neighbours seemed to last for days in my silence. I would always wonder, even try to imagine, what everyone was talking about. I would attempt to lip read, but three or more is a crowd and a difficult head spinning task to say the least. My head would spin around like 90 and since no sound was heard, I could only guess at direction to which I would put my lip reading to task.
Wonder no more! I hear most of what the world is talking about. If I have the "topic" or "subject" de jour, I can pretty much nail the conversation. At least enough to hang in for a while.
I'm pretty darn sure that for only being on day 3, I am doing okay learning a new system of hearing. I heard crows today which was cool. No birds yet, sadly, and note that I do not include crows in the bird category.
Depression is a memory now. Oh I know there will be days ahead that will knock me back a peg or two, but damn it, I spent 230 days in silence, and I'm gonna wear this grin on my face until some nasty episode, person, place or thing has the cruel avidity to pee in my tent. Don't take away my gallon of Chunky Monkey yet, I'm still enjoying it!
Some days are diamonds and some are stone, and that will never change my good friends.
But this I know for sure; life is nice right now, in fact, the diamond is the brightest it has been in my memory, and I will never again take the sounds of life for granted. I cherish and mull over, contemplate, listen harder, chew, think, digest it, step outside and turn my bionic gear in direction of sound and lean into it as if it were a passing comet that comes but once in a lifetime.
My CI is now my digital camera taking life in shots of sound, and saving them, then downloading and listening to in my mind, over and over.
Sound sweet sound.
Just as my friends, that have so recently come into my life, (and to all of you reading this post, please count yourself as David's new friend) my newly acquired sound will be safeguarded in a special place, next to my heart.
Warmly,
David
Friday, May 2, 2008
Like A Kid In A Candy Store "Tasting" All The Sound.
Yesterday had me smiling all day. Today is no different as I enter day two in new digital sound world.
Last night at the dinner table, I sat with a grin on my face as if I were the cat that just swallowed the canary. "Talk away my good family", I proudly declared. "But beware of my bionic hearing. No secret discussions from this point forward".
I was like a kid in a candy store as each clunk of a fork, shutting of ovens, running of water, produced new sounds for me to whirl around and announce to my family, what I just heard.
It was as if I was an intergalactic tour guide advising aliens what constitutes noise on our planet.
There is a "coating" on sounds, that at first listen to, gives all sounds the impression of a phone ringing. So when I walk on hardwood, I mistake at first the new sound to be the phone momentarily, until I figure it out.
It is early in the game, and I am "exploring" a whole new world of interpretations of sound from clever, no brilliant, software writers and developers that toil in the high tech environment of Advanced Bionics.
I attempted television and as expected the close captioning is still very much needed. But reading the script while listening to the audio is a great help in adjusting to my new world.
Big adjustments are the little things. When I set a coffee cup down on a table, it is loud. The processor does not discriminate between whats important and what's not important in daily life. Janet or Dan's conversation are given the same significance as a spoon being put away in the cutlery drawer. The volume and syntax are the same for each. No credence is yet defined. Again, I am positive that this will come and my "old school brain" will filter out the unimportant.
One of course does not sleep with the head piece and ear mic attached. I did not want to take it off as it shuts me down. It plunges me into my dark abyss of silence. So I delayed the simple task of removing the magnet held head piece from my head until as late as possible.
The plunge back into deafness is astonishing. I can't believe how "dark' the world is in silence when the processor is removed. It reminds me of going underwater.
Sometime last fall, as I lay in hospital bed, attempting to ratiocinate what lay ahead in a deaf world, my auditory hallucinations or perhaps tinnitus appeared. My brain, to compensate for absence of sound, created it's own library of noise to keep the sensory factories happy.
I remember the first one. A gentle, rhythmic beat of a drum. "Ka thunk thumk thumb, Ka thunk thumk thumb" over and over.
At the time as I laid in a hospital bed, I added my own take, or story, if you will on this new sound experience in my cone of silence. I imagined to be an ancient aboriginal drummer that was sent out of his village by other villagers to hunt back sound. He beat the taunt Tom Toms in a digital and precise manner day and night, as if sound went away, and he set out to find it. The drums were like a call to "hearing" to come back. The villagers have been without you for weeks. Like a rainmaker beating drums to bring rain to a parched town, this was a "sound maker"attempting to find the lost sound if he could.
Eventually he gave up and was replaced with "Dave FM" a crazy whacked out synthesized take on old songs, new songs, made up songs, and a blues harp player that wailed away into the wee hours of the morning.
Yesterday when my CI was activated, the bands all packed up and left. The brain had sound to deal with and there was no room for any amateur bands to ply their trades. They just decamped and headed out to find work elsewhere.
Laying in bed last night, plunged into silence once again with the processor removed, the lonely "Sound Hunter" returned. The same syncopated beat that was so familiar nightly in the hospital, came back. It was funny at first. He had sound briefly for a time on this day, and fed well on it. Then as quickly and as suddenly as it arrived yesterday morning at around 10 am, it went away again.
He came back to beat the ancient tom toms to find it I think.
This morning I could not wait to mount my headpiece in place and hear the world again. It is the little simple things that are amazing me. I no longer have to use touch to see if the dishwasher is indeed on. I can hear the motor. I can hear when Dan or Janet get up, I hear water running in the bathroom. Did I mention how loud it is when I pee! Too much information perhaps, but man it is like the falls of Niagara in volume.
Conversation at Tea this morning was emotional. It was always my dream in the past 230 days to have morning tea with Janet and discuss the day ahead. The past 8 months have been silent mornings with lots of notes being made by Janet for me to read.
With sheer delight this morning, we talked and talked all through our tea!
Warmly, David
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Sound Glorious Sound!
So my world has sound in it once again!
After a 230 day hiatus, I heard noise. Sound glorious sound.
It teased and flirted at first, just glimpses into the world of conversation. But after a concentrated effort of combining old school skills of lip reading, utilizing my memory bank of what words sounded like, and the new technology (new to me) called a cochlear implant working in conjunction with the processor that was magnetically applied to my head on top of the surgically implanted piece of hardware, I am getting most of a conversation!
The first part of the session with Suzanne, my audiologist, was setting thresholds of volume. A series of beeps were played at me with the processor attached to my melon. I was to give her a number to correspond to a degree of volume. One being too low to understand, 8 being too loud, 6 being the optimum, or a volume that would not be uncomfortable to listen to all day)
Once volume thresholds were set, the first voice I heard was Suzanne.
"Can you hear me"?
"Yes, you sound funny, but I can"
So Janet watched in a bit of awe, and filmed some of the testing that I will attempt to put on this blog.
Before we started the initial "mapping" or testing, Suzanne asked me what I expected of this first day. I told her that based on all my reading etc, that I had set my expectation bar low, as to avoid disappointment. She was happy with my choice as she had just dealt with a recent activation that resulted in the persons wife phoning and complaining that her husband could not use the phone.
Using a phone with a cochlear implant is akin to a 2 year old windsurfing in the ocean currents, before walking is mastered. It can be done, but it takes time and steps to get there.
I told her that I fully expect a long but worthy journey to adjust to this new method of hearing. It is not a hearing aid, it is indeed a hearing replacement. This is certainly not to take away any of my excitement from today. I am right now, as Jacob Marley said to Tiny Tim after his new found gift in life, "as giddy as a school girl".
The "firsts" are piling up as I type. One "first" that just jumped out at me is the sound of my fingers pounding keys of a laptop. In my hearing life, I knew not of this sound. My bionic hearing system picks up the smallest of sounds and creates magic with it. From the opening of a bottle of V8 on my way home, and hearing a "snnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaappppppppppp" slow and methodical, but so cool for this boys brain, it baffles me and makes me want to touch, turn, open, shut, pound, hop, scoot, shu,cajole, pop, turn on, tap, rap, clap, snap, and play with everything I see to get a reaction from my efforts.
The processor is working double time I am sure as I listen to life and it's new sounds.
I have never heard Suzanne's voice, so when she spoke,it sounded a bit cartoonish. After she talked briefly and I struggled but got at least half of her sentences, she asked Janet to talk.
The amazing thing for me and Suzanne was that Janet sounded different from Suzanne, which is a huge step. Most CI people after initial activation say that everyone sounds the same. It takes time for the brain to sort out, remember what people sound like, or even differentiate between men and women. So I felt good about having distinction out of the gate.
Two programs were loaded onto my processor which stores 120 programs. I will spend about half a day, each day on each, make notes and move forward on my next mapping in seven days.
I had my emotional melt down in the waiting room after my activation. Janet was talking and she said a phrase that was so one of her phrases. So when I heard it, it was in her voice! I lost it. I broke down in a fairly crowded waiting room crying, "You sound the same"!
So marshmallow boy got to hear his wife just the way he remembers her!
Flipping paper, banging cane of floor, opening doors were all weird for me as I have been without any sound for so long. The other thing is that I am hearing a software developers interpretation of sound, possible not what I used to hear.
The beep of the microwave oven finishing it's programed task, sounds nothing like I remember. But let's not rain on the parade, wreck the party my friends, as I do hear sound!
The phone sounds weird, but it sounds! I can hear kids coming home from school now, I sit and type this constantly looking up because I hear sound, noise, something that is so foreign to me it is indescribable.
We left to get the car to go home, and as I walked out I could hear someone laughing. It was so cool. I had to comment. "Janet, I can hear laughing" She pointed to where it was coming from.
I could hear construction (the hammering was very distinct) at the hospital, but not the high pitched noise of a bus pulling out.
The car noises driving home were minimal, the radio was just fuzz, sadly, but it was anticipated even expected at this early stage.
The amazing part was having a conversation that did not involve having to get Janet to writeing out the subject, or using our crude forms of ASL. Better still, I could hear Janet (at least 70%) without lip reading. This is huge to hear someone without looking at them.
We drove to Dan's school so we could bring him outside to the car and he could speak to me. While I waited in the car, I played with the Ipod through the car speakers. Remarkably if I knew the song (the title of course is on the Ipod as it plays) I could make out most of it. I played The Who for a bit and pounded my fist in sheer delight. Dan came out to the car and he spoke in a voice that is different from the little boy I last heard, but it was emotional none the less.
He was so thrilled to see me in "hearing mode" that he asked if he could come home from school for the rest of the day. Of course I had to oblidge. Hell, all kids should get a break from school on the day sound returns to my world. :)
After about 3 hours on program 2, I switched to program 1. It is very different. Very high end and very raspy or tin like sounding. Almost annoyingly so. Program 2 was well rounded and softer to listen to. One is pitchy but possibly clearer. I am giving both a seven day trial and being a good student and keeping notes.
So about 15 minutes ago I heard an odd sound in the house. It went off in identical spaced intervals. Ah ha I said, the phone! It has been a while since I heard a phone ring. Eight or more months ago was the last time. No attempts to answer it as I know my limitations.
I did go to the library to get some talking books that kids get to learn to read. It is highly recommended and suggested by many experts and users to read and listen at the same time. It will teach me words again. Words I of course knew how they sounded in my old world, but this is a new world. A hearing system that needs to train the brain, how words will sound like now.
I wanted to get "Hop on Pop" and "One fish, two fish" but they were out, so I settled on "Is Your Mama a Llama"? and "Doctor De Sota" the story of a compassionate and clever mouse-dentist that outwits a fox with a toothache and an appetitive. I am particularly excited about my choices.
I find myself constantly looking around as I hear a "new sound". I am patient however and will accept my mission to take it step by step. Good God I spent the last 230 days in a silent world learning how to walk again. Processing speech and sound will come in due time.
In the interim I have some great reading ahead as I not that the Doctor De Soto is a series of 6 books.
I am more of a Hop on Pop kind of guy, but I also love clever mice that can correct a nasty overbite.
Before I sign off to learn and explore in my new world of sound I want to thank so many of the readers of this blog that have taken the time to send me warm comments of encouragement.
I could list you all, but I will repay in kindness by visiting each and every one of your blogs and leaving a big old bloggy hug of thanks. It is important to me, and it did make a difference having your love and support behind me. I sincerely hope you stay with me on this huge journey ahead.
Warmly and in sound!
David
