Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Do I Hear a Pachinko Machine?

Today, I'm rambling. Unfortunately, this entry isn't a trekking-in-Montana, look-at-the-bear-grass, let's-find-that-lake ramble. Instead, file it under my-thoughts-are-as-jumbled-as-my-sentences.

Still with me? I appreciate your patience—and would like to borrow any you've got to spare. Here's why: As I type, I hear chirps and pips unrelated to the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard. These must be normal noises from the building's air conditioning system, fans, or water pipes. I shouldn't let them crowd out every thought in my head, but I'm alarmed and fascinated by the tinny, robotic quality of the sound.

I had expected water from the tap to gurgle. Instead, it sizzles. Human voices sound as if they spring from Munchkins—and the Munchkins don't speak English.

Yesterday, an audiologist activated my cochlear implant. (Wikipedia defines a CI as a "surgically implanted electronic device that provides a sense of sound to a person who is profoundly deaf or severely hard of hearing.") Today, I'm absorbing and trying to identify what I hear.

"It's a process," the audiologist warned. I would have preferred, "It's a miracle," but every writer has heard the process message a gazillion times and knows it's shorthand for hunker down and do the work--without whining.

The audiologist promised I'd understand more tomorrow than I do today. Three months from now, she thinks I'll forget that voices ever sounded Munchkin-like.

The latter's unlikely. I'm a writer and process reactions and impressions by jotting them down. My thoughts may be jumbled, but they're on the record.

Update: It's Day Two with my implant, and I've been back to the audiologist for fine-tuning. Pre-appointment, I was sure the Munchkins were speaking Czech. Now, they're speaking English, although a lot of them slur their words. To my surprise, the elevator in my surgeon's building announces the floor when it makes a stop. Who knew?

13 comments:

Lark Howard said...

Thanks for sharing your experience, Pat. Few of us have ever gained a new or enhanced sense so we have no idea how challenging the life-change is. Hopefully the "process" will evolve into a "miracle" eventually!

Colleen Thompson said...

May every day bring you closer to the miracle you so deserve, until the hard work part is nothing but a foggy memory. You know, like most women's recollection of childbirth. Otherwise, no one would ever willingly have a second baby. ;)

aroseisarose said...

Are you sure the sizzling water doesn't have anything to do with the heat?

I think you're very brave, and that hunkering down and doing the work is what miracles are made of.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Hi, Lark and Colleen,
I understood whole sentences via the implant-only today. Very exciting. I also heard the turn signal on my car. More excitement. I seem to remember being disappointed when the CI was first turned on, but my memory's getting foggy.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Hi, Aroseisarose,
Gah! You're right, the water out of the tap is warm. I add ice cubes to the cats' water bowl.

Thanks for your support.

Sheila Seabrook said...

How wonderful for you, Pat! We take sounds for granted and your description of the new sounds you're hearing is very inspiring.

Linda Barrett said...

Pat - your last sentence about hearing the elevator announcement is such fantastic progress! Yay for you. I'll be celebrating every new sound, word and sentence you will now be able to hear...even if it's slow going. Six months from now, however, let's hope you'll get the miracle you so richly deserve.

Kay Hudson said...

Pat, this is such exciting news! I hope the world of sounds opens more for you every day. Most of us take everything from a cat's purr to a car alarm for granted, and you remind us that we should treasure all our senses.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Thanks, Sheila! Running water still sizzles and a drawer closes with a gurgling sound. I'm amazed every couple of minutes.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Hi, Linda,
You should know I was alone on the elevator when I heard the robot the first time. My reaction was WTF, rather than wonder.


Thanks for celebrating with me.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Thanks, Kay! I look forward to cat purrs but could do without car alarms. Sometimes, silence is a perk of hearing loss.

jeanna Thornton said...

Pat, I love your posts!!! So nice to *hear* your thoughts! Hope this goes well for you. for sure, we are all behind you!!! HUGS!!! jink

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Thanks, Jink! I'm grateful to know y'all have my back.