My Hearing Odyssey: The Recall

Several people are posting stories about their hearing journeys. One website with postings that include hearing journeys of a variety of people is http://www.hearingjourney.com. Although each person’s journey is unique, mine is not that much different than those of many others and I’ve sustained fewer serious repercussions than many others who have followed the path. Nevertheless, I think of my journey also qualifying as an odyssey, so I am using that title. The word “odyssey” originates from the Homer’s epic story of Odysseus, which began after the Trojan War ended. Odysseus longed for home and his faithful wife, Penelope. The story, though, recounts his ten-year journey though hardships and his encounter with marvelous and frightful beings along the way. Sometimes Odysseus solved dire problems using his wits; sometimes he gained additional help. About 1889, the term odyssey began to be applied to mean a wondrous journey. I think of my long journey towards better hearing, begun in the 1950’s and hopefully entering a new chapter later this year, as an odyssey. Along the way, I often received help and advice from others, and occasionally I needed to use my own wits to overcome obstacles. Sometimes I wandered aimlessly, not knowing I had a better choice, but now I am convinced that I see the way home to better hearing.

This is my sixth post. Readers are invited to communicate with me. Please refer to the last paragraph for details.

I was scheduled to obtain my second cochlear implant on December 10, 2010. Just a few weeks before then, about Thanksgiving time, I received a telephone call from my surgeon. He stated that the company had voluntarily recalled the Hires 40K devices that are implanted. People associated with Advanced Bionics are passing information to the public on the Hearing Journey website, http://www.hearingjourney.com. There, I learned that the company was informed of two cases, out of 28,000 implants, where the people experienced discomfort shortly after the devices were activated, of such a degree that they had to have their devices removed and another device implanted in its place. Nine other people had also reported similar but less intense symptoms, but further testing reduced the group of people with similar symptoms to five.

Now the story is that engineers are working to identify the cause of the problem and to fix the problem. When they have done so (if not already), they will inform the FDA and the agency will review the case to determine whether the company has found and fixed the problem. The FDA has up to six months to evaluate the case. If the agency identifies issues that need further remediation, it initiates another cycle of the process.

My first reaction to the recall was dismay, but not a great deal of discouragement. I had requested December 10 because it was right after classes ended for the winter break, and that gave me maximum time for me to recover before classes resumed in late January. If the recall and FDA review pushes things back to May, then I’ll undergo surgery after the spring semester ends. I decided to spend my time in December more actively, doing things for the house, rather than planning on recuperation and mostly rest during that time.

Advanced Bionics is a quality company. I say this because its parent company, Sonova, of Switzerland, commented on the voluntary recall, saying something like the following, “The recall will affect our revenues by four percent, but that’s only money. It is much more important that we do the right thing for our clients.”  The recall is worldwide, but the FDA doesn’t have jurisdiction in other countries. When Advanced Bionics has a solution that they submit to the FDA, they will also have a solution that many other countries can use with little or no delay in their regulatory review processes. By the time the FDA approves the fix for the U.S., other countries will have demonstrated it.

Several people on the Hearing Journey website have indicated their willingness to wait for FDA approval. There are likely to be some cases where people may choose another company rather than wait, such as for insurance reasons or for providing a young child with the opportunity to hear for the first time. For me, I already have one cochlear implant from Advanced Bionics and I don’t want two sets of hearing devices that are incompatible with one another. The tonality of the sound will probably differ from devices produced by two different companies, and I don’t want that issue, either. At the present time, I’m waiting and I’m prepared to wait until Advanced Bionics and the FDA both determine that the product performs acceptably.

I hope this blog is interesting to readers. I am a mentor for the Bionic Ear Association (BEA). As a mentor, I am committed to helping people who are in various stages of obtaining a cochlear implant. Please feel welcome to submit comments. As a mentor, I am one of a network of people, including hearing specialists with BEA. For anyone who may be considering getting a cochlear implant, or perhaps investigating what that involves, the BEA can answer more technical questions than I can, and moreover the BEA can act as a travel agent to ease your journey to better hearing. For anyone with a cochlear implant or two, the BEA can better help with issues involving living with a cochlear implant.

My Hearing Odyssey: Dealing with Hearing Loss as a Grief

Several people are posting stories about their hearing journeys. Although each person’s journey is unique, I suppose that my journey is not that much different than those of many others who are deaf or hard of hearing, and I’ve sustained fewer serious repercussions than many others who have followed the path. Nevertheless, I think that my journey qualifies as an odyssey, so I am using that title. The word “odyssey” originates from the Homer’s epic story of the Greek warrior Odysseus, which began after the Trojan War ended. Odysseus longed for home and his faithful wife, Penelope. The story recounts his ten-year journey though hardships and his encounter with marvelous and frightful beings along the way. Sometimes Odysseus solves dire problems using his wits; sometimes he gains additional help. About 1889, the term odyssey began to be applied to mean a wondrous journey. I think of my long journey towards better hearing, begun in the 1950’s and hopefully entering a new chapter later this year, with my second cochlear implant, as an odyssey. Along the way, I often received help and advice from others, and occasionally I needed to use my own wits to overcome obstacles. Sometimes I wandered aimlessly, not knowing I had a better choice, but now I am convinced that I see the way home to better hearing.

This is my fifth post. Readers are invited to communicate with me. Check the last paragraph for details.

On Grief and Dying, written by Elisabeth Kűbler-Ross and published in 1969, described the stages of a person’s reactions to death of a loved one or to one’s own impeding death. Others have extended her assessment of the grief process to such things as drug addiction, tragedies or disasters, and other types of profound personal loss. I am not aware of anyone who has specifically addressed the grief processes associated with significant hearing loss. I would be interested in learning if anyone has reference to such. In this blog, I use the Kűbler-Ross stages to discuss how hearing loss grief is present and how I dealt with various stages. Although later studies have shown that people don’t necessarily go through the stages that Kűbler-Ross identified, I think her model of the grief process is sufficiently valid that most people with severe hearing loss will recognize some of the stages. Hopefully, people with hearing loss, or with loved ones with hearing loss, who read this can benefit.

Kűbler-Ross identified five stages associated with grief: (1) Denial; (2) Anger; (3) Bargaining; (4) Depression; and (5) Acceptance. Her book stated that people don’t necessarily experience all five stages or experience them in the above-listed order. She stated that most people facing profound loss experience at least two of them, and that sometimes they experienced them in “roller coaster” fashion, that is, two or three stages return to haunt the person, often nearly simultaneously. Someone who experiences a strong emotional resonance with this blog would be prudent to read her book and perhaps check out her blog (http://www.ekrfoundation.org). I will mention the salient symptoms of the stages.

The first stage, Denial, is when the person refuses to acknowledge a fact (“My sister isn’t really dead.”), or as in my personal case, minimizes the fact. I wore a hearing aid for eight years, during which time I rationalized that it was “like glasses for people with poor eyesight,” and refused to accept the fact that hearing loss is a handicap. This occurred through my teen years. In a college course on public health, it dawned on me that hearing loss might be considered a handicap. I asked the professor this, since I felt a visceral need to know. He responded that, indeed, hearing loss that requires a hearing aid is a handicap, while poor vision that causes most people to wear glasses is not considered a handicap. Even after that, I was in denial for decades. I felt that the hearing aid (later the two hearing aids) could make up for the hearing loss, and even if hearing wasn’t perfect, it was sufficient.

The second stage, Anger, is when a person lashes out at others, or perhaps God, for causing the loss. For most people with hearing loss, there is no human target for this anger, unless one thinks parents (genetics) are responsible. Anger also expresses itself with the “Why me?” line of questioning. “What did I do wrong (how did I sin) to be afflicted with this malady?” Of course, human reasoning being what it is, we all have personal private “sins” that we can blame. They may be irrational. Regardless of how irrational the reasoning is, dwelling on those things uses time and emotional resources that are better spent for productive purposes. For me, with profound hearing loss, anger was manifested when I was passed over for a job or a promotion. I felt like I had been black-balled for hearing loss despite otherwise being a better candidate for the job or promotion. My friends consoled me, “It’s their loss,” but losing a paycheck or higher salary is a very personal, and visceral, loss.

The third stage, Bargaining, is interesting. When a person knows he or she is dying, the bargaining stage may be something like, “Just give me a few more years so I can see my children graduate.” With hearing loss like I experienced, which became worse over time and accelerated in the later stages, my hope was for my hearing to stop declining so I could keep what little hearing I had left, even when my hearing had declined to the point where, with hearing aids, my better ear could only identify about one syllable in ten. Sometimes bargaining involves the individual promising some behavior in exchange for a boon. I never experienced that, preferring to enjoy my various minor sins regardless.

The fourth stage, Depression, is nasty. It occurred to me, but was not manifested in a way that led me to a psychiatrist’s couch. I did once see a doctor and was given some pills, which didn’t work enough that I noticed any change. What did work for me, however, was the realization that my depression was self-inflicted and would come to no good. Realizing that, I focused on other things, like work and hobbies. I stopped seeing the doctor and realized that I could deal with occasional wafts of depression which occurred like cold drafts. My depression was partially caused by difficulty with social contacts. Even with a cochlear implant, I wasn’t confident of my ability to hear in noisy environments or to use the phone. Many people don’t realize the effort a hearing-impaired individual has to make in order to understand otherwise casual conversation. Those people aren’t willing to build new friendships that require more focus and effort, so they minimize social interaction with hearing-impaired people. As a result, I was on my way to becoming a hermit. I fought that and found ways to interact with people at work and through my volunteer position as editor of a newsletter, even though I spent much of my spare time at home doing things on the computer or watching sports events on TV. A friend realized my situation and subscribed me to a singles web site, and she even wrote the first profile that was posted for me. I went along with the game and eventually edited the profile to my liking. Before long, I met Diana, who understood my predicament.

The fifth stage is Acceptance. Like dying, going deaf is often a progression. People know it will happen, but cannot determine just when it will happen. Unlike dying, however, there are no “Deaf Certificates” issued by coroners or audiologists. I finally confronted the situation in 2002, when I knew that the strongest hearing aids I could get still weren’t enough to resolve my hearing problem; I accepted my situation and asked about getting a cochlear implant. Unlike joining the Army, which has recruiting offices on college campuses and in communities nationwide, there are no cochlear implant recruiting offices. It took me about nine months to go through the maze and get the implant, but when I had it, I went back into teaching. Diana, whom I mentioned in the previous paragraph, not only had her own grief issues which she had resolved, but also had worked as a drug abuse counselor, where most of her clients, whether or not they initially thought of it, were going through grieving about giving up drugs. “So you’re giving up drugs,” she would say to a client, “What are you replacing them with?” For her clients, she was encouraging them to focus on positive benefits, from “Staying out of jail” to “Keeping my child.” Thanks to Diana, I came to a second acceptance. One cochlear implant has been a great improvement for me, but a second one will, most likely, be additionally beneficial for me. I’ll report on that in blogs during 2011.

The five stages for dealing with grief don’t always occur in the order mentioned by Kűbler-Ross, and sometimes one or two stages may not be apparent. Sometimes a person may bounce back and forth several times between two or three stages. This being the situation, the five stages aren’t metaphors for climbing stairs or a ladder, but rather, perhaps appropriate to my “Odyssey” title, names for some of the obstacles along the path of one’s lifelong journey.

I’ll continue with my path to a cochlear implant in a later blog.

I recently became a mentor for the Bionic Ear Association. As a mentor, I am committed to helping people who are in various stages of obtaining a cochlear implant, from as early as people who have hearing problems but have not considered cochlear implants yet, including people who are looking at cochlear implant options, and continuing on to people who have received cochlear implants. In order to help, I need to know your situation and what difficulties you are having. Please feel welcome to attach comments to this blog. If you wish, include your email or phone number and I will get back to you, one on one. I will not share your information with anyone else without your expressed permission to do so. As a mentor, I am also one of a network of helpful people, including hearing specialists, with BEA. For anyone who may be considering getting a cochlear implant, or even just investigating what that involves, the BEA can answer more technical questions than I can, and moreover the BEA can act as a trip-planning travel agent to ease your journey to better hearing. For anyone with a cochlear implant or two, the BEA can better help with issues involving living with a cochlear implant.

My Hearing Odyssey: Hearing Loss Is an Invisible Disability

Several people are posting stories about their hearing journeys. Although each person’s journey is unique, I suppose that my journey is not that much different than those of many others who are deaf or hard of hearing, and I’ve sustained fewer serious repercussions than many others who have followed the path. Nevertheless, I think journey qualifies as an odyssey, so I am using that title. The word “odyssey” originates from the Homer’s epic story of the Greek warrior Odysseus, which began after the Trojan War ended. Odysseus longed for home and his faithful wife, Penelope. The story recounts his ten-year journey though hardships and his encounter with marvelous and frightful beings along the way. Sometimes Odysseus solves dire problems using his wits; sometimes he gains additional help. About 1889, the term odyssey began to be applied to mean a wondrous journey. I think of my long journey towards better hearing, begun in the 1950’s and hopefully entering a new chapter later this year, as an odyssey. Along the way, I often received help and advice from others, and occasionally I needed to use my own wits to overcome obstacles. Sometimes I wandered aimlessly, not knowing I had a better choice, but now I am convinced that I see the way home to better hearing.

This is my fourth post. Readers are invited to communicate with me. Check the last paragraph for details.

In this blog, I speak as a handicapped person (which I am), rather than as an attorney (which I am not). I have familiarity with the topic, but some parts of the blog may be incorrect or inadvertently misleading. As licensed practitioners of law find errors in this blog, I would appreciate their input and will correct parts that require correction.

Federal law (the ADA) prohibits discrimination in the workplace on the basis of handicap. Other laws enforce equal opportunity for everyone in education. These laws, however, cannot prevent discrimination; that is for each individual to do. Rather, the laws define the legal process that a person who is discriminated against may take for compensation. ADA states that employers must take reasonable measures to accommodate handicapped people. When ADA became law, workplaces and visitor places across the United States built ramps and remodeled bathrooms to accommodate people in wheelchairs. They assigned parking spots for vehicles of handicapped people. I estimate that 99% of the attention and money that employers spent to meet compliance of ADA went into projects to accommodate limited mobility and wheelchair-bound people.

There are several major types of handicaps, and degrees of severity in each category. Besides wheelchair-bound people, those suffering from emphysema may not need a wheelchair, but they are mobility limited, and cannot walk very far, even with oxygen. Other handicaps include loss of hearing and loss of sight. I like the fact that all businesses now accommodate people (clients) with mobility limitations.

A hearing impaired person may wear one or two hearing aids or may have a cochlear implant or two. Sometimes, hearing devices are not readily visible and they may be seen but not noticed by most people. Many jobs require that the applicant interact with people face to face and using the telephone. Hearing impaired people often have difficulty understanding what others say. Others may mistake this handicap as lack of attention or rudeness. Employers don’t want that to happen.

ADA provides a variety of rules that employers often use to protect themselves against lawsuits of discrimination. The rules permit employers to disqualify applicants for positions they cannot fulfill. The rules permit employers to make lists of tasks that the job requires the person to do. One task, for example, is that applicants must be able to lift and carry 50 pounds. A person in a wheelchair would find that task daunting. Some might be able to do it, but lifting that weight requires leg strength or ingenuity. Another task, frequently asked of secretarial and clerical positions, is ability to use the telephone. That’s reasonable for a position that interacts with clients a lot, but it is also a loophole for employers who don’t want to work with hard of hearing people.

There are remedies for hard of hearing people to use the telephone effectively that are within reason. One option is a TDD phone (sometimes called a TTY phone; both work on the same principles). The TDD phone displays information on a small screen. Each state also has relay operators. A hard-of-hearing person can place a call to relay to initiate an outgoing phone call. The operator types the other party’s speech so the hearing impaired person can read it. Relay also assists incoming calls. In either case, the hearing impaired person may choose either to speak or to type in response to the other party. Before I got my cochlear implant, I used a TDD phone and relay service extensively for several years. There are some drawbacks, although none of them is as isolating as the inability to communicate over the phone. The drawbacks include the longer times it takes to complete phone calls. One problem that I’ve encountered is the advertised TTY or TDD phone numbers for places. Often, nobody answers the phone when those numbers ring.

Hearing impaired people can use the phone thanks to TDD devices and relay services, but most employers don’t want their clients to go through that process to speak with hard of hearing employees.

A second option, for cochlear implant users, is a device that goes between the phone base and handset of the telephone, and which has a lead to plug in to the CI device. This doesn’t work for mobile phones, though. Many CI users can use the telephone pickups on their devices, and that works with some mobile phones. That is a big improvement. I’ve used that for several years since getting my first cochlear implant. With the body processor, it is easy to plug the device in and use the phone (although it takes a few seconds to find the end of the connector wire). With a behind-the-ear (BTE) device, the device needs to be taken off to attach the phone connector. Neither method gets you started in conversation as fast as just picking up the phone, but both methods provide excellent signals to the processor unit, and make phone conversations easier for CI users.

Within the past few years, BTE devices have also improved phone pickups. These work just as though you can hear normally. Put the phone to your ear and you can hear what the other party is saying. They work with most phones, but not all, so it is important to check out a phone. That’s simple, just pick it up and listen for the dial tone.

Very few people with severe or profound hearing losses work in high salaried capacities, such as physicians, attorneys, college professors, or supervisors. There are a small percentage of such, of course, including individuals with less severe hearing losses who do not wear hearing aids because their presence might negatively influence higher-ups in the organization. Let’s face it, businesses exist to make profits, service industries exist to serve clients, and educational institutions hire faculty to interact with students. That’s a good reason for someone with difficulty using the phone, with or without hearing aids, to find out whether they qualify for cochlear implants.

I’ll continue with my path to a cochlear implant in a later blog. Currently, I have an implant in my right ear. I am investigating getting an implant in my left ear (bilateral). I understand it will help me to appreciate sound more fully. Probably more important, relative to this blog, I pick up the phone with my left hand, so I’ll have a BTE device ready to go when I answer the phone. I intend to keep this blog of my journey towards that objective, while I also present episodes from my life with hearing impairment.

I recently became a mentor for the Bionic Ear Association. As a mentor, I am committed to helping people who are in various stages of obtaining a cochlear implant, from as early as people who have hearing problems but have not considered cochlear implants yet, including people who are looking at cochlear implant options, and continuing on to people who have received cochlear implants. In order to help, I need to know your situation and what difficulties you are having. Please feel welcome to attach comments. If you wish, include your email or phone number and I will get back to you, one on one. I will not share your information with anyone else without your expressed permission to do so. As a mentor, I am also one of a network of helpful people, including hearing specialists with BEA. For anyone who may be considering getting a cochlear implant, or even just investigating what that involves, the BEA can answer more technical questions than I can, and moreover the BEA can act as a trip-planning travel agent to ease your journey to better hearing. For anyone with a cochlear implant or two, the BEA can better help with issues involving living with a cochlear implant.

My Hearing Odyssey: My Guinea Pig Experience

Several people are posting stories about their hearing journeys.  Although each person’s journey is unique, I suppose that my journey is not that much different than those of many others who are deaf or hard of hearing, and I’ve sustained fewer serious repercussions than many others who have followed the path.  Nevertheless, I think of my journey also qualifying as an odyssey, so I am using that title.  The word “odyssey” originates from the Homer’s epic story of Odysseus, which began after the Trojan War ended.  Odysseus longed for home and his faithful wife, Penelope.  The story, though, recounts his ten-year journey though hardships and his encounter with marvelous and frightful beings along the way.  Sometimes Odysseus solves dire problems using his wits; sometimes he gains additional help.  About 1889, the term odyssey began to be applied to mean a wondrous journey.  I think of my long journey towards better hearing, begun in the 1950’s and hopefully entering a new chapter later this year, as an odyssey.  Along the way, I often received help and advice from others, and occasionally I needed to use my own wits to overcome obstacles.  Sometimes I wandered aimlessly, not knowing I had a better choice, but now I am convinced that I see the way home to better hearing.

 This is my third post.  Readers are invited to communicate with me.  Check the last paragraph of this blog for details.

 At our local (Boston area) BEA meeting in September 2010, a researcher from Massachusetts Eye and Ear Infirmary (MEEI) talked about his research project on bilateral cochlear implant users and invited us to participate as research subjects.  One of the people who attended the meeting asked if their project used well hearing people as controls, and the researcher answered that they did not do that.

 At our previous meeting, a researcher from Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) sought cochlear implant users for an experiment, and also sought people who hear well to serve as controls.  For every cochlear implant user they tested, they also tested a person with good hearing of the same age and sex.

 I participated in that study at MIT over the summer.  The study used synthetic sounds, computer-generated waveforms that closely resemble the sounds we speak.  They are researching how well people correctly identify the elements of speech when they use various waveforms to form the speech.  It’s interesting to think about, actually.  Suppose we say one long, continuous, varying vowel, starting with long u and morphing gradually to long e, going through o, a, and i along the way.  If we say the word slowly, we may recognize perhaps one or two dozen vowel sounds, most of which are used in speech in one language or another.  If we spoke that word slowly into a device that shows the acoustical power connected to each frequency present at each sound, we would find interesting patterns.  Most vowels are made with a variety of frequencies.  This is in addition to the basic male/female pitch of our voice.

 At MIT, researchers pair cochlear implant users and normal hearing users (although not in the same sitting) to determine how well cochlear implant speech recognition software works to discriminate spoken vowels.  They need the normal hearing users as controls for this type of experiment.

 The MEEI researchers are interested in other aspects of improving cochlear implant devices.  I participated in one MEEI study about six years ago, soon after my first cochlear implant.  Part of the study involved recognition of various beginning consonants on spoken words heard through speakers, recognizing such sounds as dah, tah, paw, rah, nah, ma, saw, shah, zah, and jaw. 

 To my knowledge, that consonant recognition was not the focus of the MEEI research, but rather, the first part of the study involved testing me with my normal signal processor program, for use as the control.  Then the researchers added a new processing program to my signal processor and encouraged me to use it.

 Let me describe what I understand they were trying to do.  For each single signal sent to an electrode in the cochlea, it must have net sum of zero voltage, so a small spike in positive voltage is immediately followed by the same shape of spike in negative voltage, all within milliseconds.  This rapid up-down voltage stimulates the nerve endings in the cochlea and creates what we recognize as sound.  Technical people call this a bipolar signal because it has two peaks, one positive and one negative.  The experiment I was in was testing a different waveform to stimulate the nerve endings.  They started with a half-high positive peak, then followed with a full strength negative peak and concluded with another half-high positive peak, creating what they called a tri-polar signal.  No pain was caused nor any harm done by the different type of signal.  They added the tri-polar program to my signal processor in their lab, it only took a minute or two.  The research goal was to make a waveform that was not as abrupt as the bipolar waveform, which has some unintended consequences of stimulating more nerves due to the abruptness of the signal, so they reason.  The gentler beginning and end of the tri-polar signal were designed to try to reduce the collateral nerve stimulation, hopefully to produce a signal which provides easier recognition of various leading consonants.

 I used the experimental processing program for several weeks to become familiar with it.  During that time I noticed that it provided a different sound—something I cannot put in words, unfortunately.  I wasn’t aware of any improvement in consonant recognition in daily use, and the researchers didn’t inform me whether I scored better, worse, or the same on their tests.  Still, the experience was interesting, painless, and hopefully one more small part of the work that is needed to continue to improve hearing devices.

 I’ll continue with my path to a cochlear implant in a later blog.  Currently, I have an implant in my right ear.  I am investigating getting an implant in my left ear (bilateral).  I understand it will help me to appreciate sound more fully.  I intend to keep this blog of my journey towards that objective, while I also present episodes from my life with hearing impairment.

 I recently became a mentor for the Bionic Ear Association.  As a mentor, I am committed to helping people who are in various stages of obtaining a cochlear implant, from as early as people who have hearing problems but have not considered cochlear implants yet, including people who are looking at cochlear implant options, and continuing on to people who have received cochlear implants.  In order to help, I need to know your situation and what difficulties you are having.  Please feel welcome to attach comments.  If you wish, include your email or phone number and I will get back to you, one on one.  I will not share your information with anyone else without your expressed permission to do so.  As a mentor, I am also one of a network of helpful people, including hearing specialists with BEA.  For anyone who may be considering getting a cochlear implant, or even just investigating what that involves, the BEA can answer more technical questions than I can, and moreover the BEA can act as a trip-planning travel agent to ease your journey to better hearing.  For anyone with a cochlear implant or two, the BEA can better help with issues involving living with a cochlear implant.

My Hearing Odyssey: Through High School

Several people are posting stories about their hearing journeys.  Although each person’s journey is unique, I suppose that my journey is not that much different than those of many others who are deaf or hard of hearing, and I’ve sustained fewer serious repercussions than many others who have followed the path.  Nevertheless, I think of my journey also qualifying as an odyssey, so I am using that title.  The word “odyssey” originates from the Homer’s epic story of Odysseus, which began after the Trojan War ended.  Odysseus longed for home and his faithful wife, Penelope.  The story, though, recounts his ten-year journey though hardships and his encounter with marvelous and frightful beings along the way.  Sometimes Odysseus solves dire problems using his wits; sometimes he gains additional help.  About 1889, the term odyssey began to be applied to mean a wondrous journey.  I think of my long journey towards better hearing, begun in the 1950’s and hopefully entering a new chapter later this year, as an odyssey.  Along the way, I often received help and advice from others, and occasionally I needed to use my own wits to overcome obstacles.  Sometimes I wandered aimlessly, not knowing I had a better choice, but now I am convinced that I see the way home to better hearing.

 This is my second post.  Readers are invited to communicate with me.  Check the last paragraph of this blog for details.

 My parents and I knew I had hearing loss by 1954, when I was in the first grade.  Prior to getting a hearing aid to help, they made two attempts, to my recounting, to fix the problem.  When I had my tonsils out in 1954, at my doctor’s recommendation they also opted to have my adenoids removed.  Sometime later, when my hearing still didn’t noticeably improve, they opted for me to undergo one radiation treatment session, whereby I was exposed to a painless dose of x-radiation.  This occurred in an era when dangers of long-term damage due to radiation were not known.  Fortunately, I did not experience any thyroid damage.  I had tests about 1990 to analyze whether damage had occurred.  Doctors said the probability of thyroid damage is now highly remote.

 I received my first hearing aid, a Siemens, in 1959, when I was in sixth grade.  My hearing was almost identical in both ears, about 35 dB below normal hearing, with greater loss at higher frequencies.  I’ll cover decibels (dB) in a later blog because many people think that -35 dB is equivalent to a 35% loss in hearing.  It is not, the loss is far greater than that.  For now, think of normal hearing as being the standard and diminished hearing to be recorded as so many decibels below normal at a specific frequency.  Audiologists assign an overall hearing loss, as dB, based on instrument readings.

 I went through high school and college with only one new hearing aid.  It happened by accident, not by design.  I mention it because other families may find comfort knowing that their child isn’t the only one who has broken a hearing aid.  During fall of 1963, while I was in high school, I was playing a pick-up basketball game with friends after school on a basketball court behind the gymnasium.  As usual, I took off my jacket and placed my wallet and hearing aid inside it before joining the game.  The jacket was placed by a corner of the court, out of harm’s way, so I thought.  A bus brought another school’s wrestling team to our school for a match, and the bus ran over the jacket, demolishing the hearing aid.  I didn’t even notice it, but my friends pointed it out to me.  We took the smashed hearing aid to the bus driver just as he parked, but he denied any part of the damage.  He may not have remembered running over the jacket.  My school’s Vice Principal was more understanding.  When my parents alerted him to the damage, he was able to confirm the event, perhaps by talking with several others who were playing basketball with me.  I went for several months, including through the winter break, without a hearing aid.  Only when my parents later asked why nothing had been done did he push matters to resolution.  His response shortly afterwards was for my parents to buy a replacement aid.  The other school (or perhaps their transportation company) would reimburse my parents for the cost.

 In high school I participated in sports without my hearing aid.  I could hear sound well enough, and most speech was discernible.  I participated in cross country, basketball, and track, and in my freshman year I also participated in junior varsity football.  I recount one bad experience from sports.  (I wasn’t so talented at sports to warrant any special attention from the coaches, but being in a small school has its advantages—they need people to fill out their teams—so I was never denied a position on any team.)  The bad experience occurred in football, during the last game of the season.  Our team was winless through the season to that point.  I played end, some weeks on offense and some on defense.  That week I was left offensive end.  In a scoreless game, we had moved the ball inside the opponents’ 5-yard line.  Our coach called time-out and we went over to huddle with him on the sideline.  He called for us to run “27 pass.”  That meant I was supposed to delay on the line for a count, then slant to my left, hopefully well in front of any defender so I would be open for a pass.  We lined up.  Off-sides was called.  In the huddle, the quarterback called the play again, but all I heard was, “27.”  That play meant that I double-teamed the lineman that our left tackle was blocking, to move him clear of the running path, and one halfback would enter the path before the ball carrier, to take out another defender.  I did a great job blocking, but I wasn’t out on the left side waiting for the pass.  Our quarterback had pressure with nobody to throw to.  He tossed the ball in the direction of where I should have been and it was intercepted and returned 100 yards for a touchdown by the other team.

 The coach called me to the sideline and verbally chastised me.  This was, incidentally, at the only game my parents attended!  He never asked why or how I made such a mistake, but he benched me for that.  It turned out that the other team was off-sides again and the play was nullified.  Our team scored and went on to win the game.  On the bus back home, I was amazed how vilifying a coach could be when the team won its only game of the year.  He seemed to think that his criticism would help the team win more games in the future.  Perhaps he accomplished his goal.  I never again went out for football.

 I’ll continue with my hearing odyssey in other blogs.

 I recently became a mentor for the Bionic Ear Association.  As a mentor, I am committed to helping people who are in various stages of obtaining a cochlear implant, from as early as people who have hearing problems but have not considered cochlear implants yet, including people who are looking at cochlear implant options, and continuing on to people who have received cochlear implants.  In order to help, I need to know your situation and what difficulties you are having.  Please feel welcome to attach comments.  If you wish, include your email or phone number and I will get back to you, one on one.  I will not share your information with anyone else without your expressed permission to do so.  As a mentor, I am also one of a network of helpful people, including hearing specialists with BEA.  For anyone who may be considering getting a cochlear implant, or even just investigating what that involves, the BEA can answer more technical questions than I can, and moreover the BEA can act as a trip-planning travel agent to ease your journey to better hearing.  For anyone with a cochlear implant or two, the BEA can better help with issues involving living with a cochlear implant.

My Hearing Odyssey: Introduction

Several people are posting stories about their hearing journeys.  Although each person’s journey is unique, I suppose that my journey is not that much different than those of many others who are deaf or hard of hearing, and I’ve sustained fewer serious repercussions than many others who have followed the path.  Nevertheless, I think of my journey also qualifying as an odyssey, so I am using that title.  The word “odyssey” originates from the Homer’s epic story of Odysseus, (Ulysses in Latin) which began after the Trojan War ended.  Odysseus longed for home and his faithful wife, Penelope.  The story, though, recounts his ten-year journey though hardships and his encounter with marvelous and frightful beings along the way.  Sometimes Odysseus solves dire problems using his wits; sometimes he gains additional help.  About 1889, the term odyssey began to be applied to mean a wondrous journey.  I think of my long journey towards better hearing, begun in the 1950’s and hopefully entering a new chapter later this year, as an odyssey.  Along the way, I often received help and advice from others, and occasionally I needed to use my own wits to overcome obstacles.  Sometimes I wandered aimlessly, not knowing I had a better choice, but now I am convinced that I see the way home to better hearing.

This blog begins my story.  Readers are invited to communicate with me.  Check the last paragraph of this blog for details.

I am Richard Pitter.  I wear an Advanced Bionics Harmony behind the ear (BTE) processor, which is an upgrade from the Advanced Bionics Auria BTE processor that I had for several years.  I also have an Advanced Bionics Platinum Series processor that clips to my belt for use as a backup. 

 I had diminishing hearing ability for fifty years before getting my CI.  I am considered to be late deafened.  Without the CI device, I am no longer able to hear speech.  I should have pursued a CI earlier.  I’ll explain why as I continue this blog.  I know what speech and other sounds should sound like.  My hearing was substandard in early grade school.  My parents realized this during early grade school but they didn’t act until I got my first hearing aid when I was in the sixth grade.  Of course, in the 1950’s, hearing aid technology was changing rapidly.  I don’t recall any other elementary school students wearing hearing aids, and in high school only one other student wore a hearing aid—his was a shirt pocket unit with a wire to his earplug/microphone.

 My hearing diminished over the decades.  With my hearing aid, I was able to pursue my studies and participate in activities that included marching band.  I did well in school and I received my Ph.D. at age 26.  I began wearing a second hearing aid a few years later.  I worked as a professor, teaching and conducting research in atmospheric environmental science.

 I married while I was in graduate school, in 1971, and we have two wonderful children, both of whom have grown up to obtain masters degrees and pursue worthwhile professions.  Neither child has a hearing impairment.  In 1988 my wife and I divorced.  She claimed I was not on her wavelength most of the time.  She knew that I didn’t always hear what she said.  The solution we tried–better hearing aids–didn’t work.   My lack of hearing was not the reason for our divorce, but it may have been a significant contributing factor.

 By the mid-1980’s, I could no longer use a telephone effectively.  Phone conversations were difficult for me.  Scientific conferences, where researchers present their newest findings, were stress-filled for me because I couldn’t understand most conversation in the noisy rooms.  I could not make effective contacts with other researchers or funding managers at conferences or over the phone.  In retrospect, it would have been highly beneficial to my career and social life if I had pursued a cochlear implant about then.  However, none of my physicians, audiologists, or hearing aid dealers raised that option.

 In 1994, I was terminated from my research faculty position due to insufficient financial resources to cover my salary.  I applied for jobs in academia, but was unsuccessful at getting hired, in part because of my difficulty with telephone conversations.  In time I moved to Boston and worked for an attorney.  It was challenging work but out of my field of interest.

 In 2002, I decided to look into a cochlear implant.  I expected the sound would be bizarre.  The one thing that I wanted, however, was to be able to understand what people were saying when they talked to me.  I received the implant in 2003, and in 2004 I returned to academia.  I’ll detail my career journeys in other blogs.

 Currently, I have an implant in my right ear.  I am investigating getting an implant in my left ear (bilateral).  I understand it will help me to appreciate sound more fully.  I intend to keep this blog of my journey towards that objective, while I also present episodes from my life with hearing impairment.

 I recently became a mentor for the Bionic Ear Association.  Let me explain this.  As a mentor, I am committed to helping people who are in various stages of obtaining a cochlear implant, from as early as people who have hearing problems but have not considered cochlear implants yet, including people who are looking at cochlear implant options, and continuing on to people who have received cochlear implants.  In order to help, I need to know your situation and what difficulties you are having.  Please feel welcome to attach comments.  If you wish, include your email or phone number and I will get back to you, one on one.  I will not share your information with anyone else without your expressed permission to do so.  As a mentor, I am also one of a network of helpful people, including hearing specialists with BEA.  For anyone who may be considering getting a cochlear implant, or even just investigating what that involves, the BEA can answer more technical questions than I can, and moreover the BEA can act as a trip-planning travel agent to ease your journey to better hearing.  For anyone with a cochlear implant or two, the BEA can better help with issues involving living with a cochlear implant.