Saturday, May 31, 2014

Oh the Joy

I had to leave a professional development meeting this week to change my cochlear implant battery. Those little low battery tones are often a nuisance, but sometimes they're a little like Ode to Joy -- like when you must leave a presentation you've had the pleasure of sitting through at least four times -- for a legitimate reason... I had left my batteries in my spare parts kit locked safely in my classroom.

Upon returning to the meeting, the low battery warning in my hearing aid went off, as well.

Joyful, joyful, we adore thee...

I had to leave the meeting again. I should learn to carry spare batteries with me at all times, but I'm appreciative that this day was not the day I had done so! The bliss of getting to change my second set of batteries was immense.

I will have to remember to ask my audi if she can change my low battery tone to Ode to Joy.

Oh the joy of being battery-powered.


Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Suffer the Children



Oklahoma has failed it's children.

The state of Oklahoma enacted a pathetic, punitive law that seeks to retain any third grade student who doesn't pass the reading portion of the state-mandated reading test. The law was passed, disregarding the wishes of the thousands of citizens in this state who opposed and lobbied their state legislators to vote against it. To add insult to injury, an amended version of the law that would restore the decision to retain students based on a portfolio of student work, multiple assessment, and determined by parents, teachers, and reading specialists, passed solidly in both legislative houses, but was vetoed by a governor who is playing politics with our children's futures. This law is discriminatory. It punishes children because of their disabilities and differences. It forces all children into a "one-size-fits-all" assessment of their "abilities."

The fallout of this law is huge, and it is only the beginning. Parents and citizens are joining educators across our state in expressing outrage over the compulsory retention of students based on a single, high-stakes test score. They are furious that the stakeholders closest to our students -- the parents and educators who know these children and their abilities -- have been indiscriminately replaced by arrogant legislators who think they know best. It's government intrusion at its worst.

Today I read an article in our local newspaper that extolled the tragic results of this law on our children. All of the stories of "failing" children are heart-wrenching. But one story hit a personal chord with me. All ten of the deaf children being served in my district's deaf education program were deemed "unsatisfactory" and will not be able to go to the fourth grade. They received unsatisfactory scores on a test in reading that is largely based on phonological knowledge of words and language. Now remember, these are children who are deaf and cannot HEAR those phonemes upon which our language is based, and who have limited knowledge of what our language sounds like. Their primary means of communication is American Sign Language. They could be held in the third grade for two more years. That would mean they would be 20 when -- or if -- they graduate from high school.

Imagine yourself as a nine year-old child, sitting in a classroom, and being subjected to your first ever standardized test; a test that is taken for two days, for approximately two hours each day, and knowing that your future career as a student is dependent upon this single test score, no matter who you are or what you have done up to this time, or what you will do after this time. It is a single score on a one-time, high-stakes standardized reading test --regardless of your individual disabilities, learning differences, native language, or extenuating life circumstances --that will make or break you.

Now imagine that you have never heard a single word, or even a sound, in the language of the test you are being subjected to take. You are deaf. Alone. Without modifications. Without help.

And now, you will be forced to endure it all over again next year. Because you have been deemed unworthy. You are unsatisfactory.

What have we done to our children?

Elections have consequences. And we are paying sorely for the decisions we, as citizens, made in the voting booth. It is time for things to change.

Saturday, May 17, 2014

While We're on the Topic...

...of hearing aid batteries --

I let myself run out of them. Can you believe it? As one who is completely dependent on this tiny piece of technology, one would think that I would be more judicious about making sure my stash was well stocked, right?

Apparently not. There are no half-used packs lying around on my nightstand, in my purse, or in my hearing aid case. Not one, single, lonely, and almost forgotten battery cell to be found anywhere! Nada. Zip. None.

And having put my only battery into the Dry-and-Store last night with my hearing aid, I awoke to find that sole remaining battery has vanished!

It's a mystery. It is not on the floor where I may have inadvertently dropped it before putting it to rest. It is not trapped in my bosom where things of lesser value have fallen. It is not under the bed, nor is it on the nightstand beside my bed. It is not here; it is not there. I cannot find it anywhere!

I am confounded. Was it mysteriously raptured in the night by an unknown and super-sneaky battery thief? Is it hiding beneath a cloak of invisibility and snickering at me whilst I search high and low? Self-combusted? Abducted by aliens?

It is a puzzlement.

Therefore,  I will don my cochlear implant in a few minutes and trek to the drugstore on this Saturday morning to purchase batteries once again. Two, three, maybe even four packs to replenish my stash. And I think I'll get a latte while I'm out. And maybe a donut, too. I deserve it.

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Damn You, Little Orange Sticker

While brushing my hair this evening before going to bed, I came across something shiny and sticky attached to my hair. In plain sight, it shone in the vanity light like the Star of Bethlehem. What on earth? Carefully reaching up to pull it off, I quickly realized it's one of those pesky orange stickers that I peel off my zinc air hearing aid batteries.

I've written about these little buggers before in this blog. They must be peeled away from the battery to activate them. They manage to make their way into the most innocuous places. They can be quite a nuisance.

Upon freeing my tresses of this sticky annoyance, I think to myself... I changed that battery this morning -- most certainly a full 16 hours ago! Did no one notice it? Not even one of my uber-observant first graders who look at me all day long?  Or did everyone politely ignore it and giggle to themselves about seeing yet another orange sticker in their silly teacher's hair?

Damn you, little orange hearing aid battery sticker.




Sunday, May 11, 2014

Of All the Things I Love the Most...

...visiting my audiologist for an adjustment to my cochlear implant program is at the bottom of that list.

I want to have the very best "mapping", as it is called among CI recipients, but getting the perfect map is pretty hard for me to achieve. The pristine, clinical environment of the audiology office is a far cry from the real world of hearing. It's hard to explain to my audiologist exactly what I'm hearing or not hearing. And often, when she makes an adjustment, I can't tell if she's made it better or worse until I've tried it out for a few days. We are cautioned that with each new programming comes a week or two of adjustment as our brain adapts to the new map, so her best advice for me is to be patient. These are frustrating days for me. I'm not a patient person.

Since I am bimodal -- a cochlear implant in one ear and a hearing aid in the other -- it's important that the two devices work in tandem, balanced equally in sound and quality. My cochlear implant had begun to overpower the hearing aid, which resulted in my other ear feeling dead. It was getting really hard to hear even normal speech in quiet settings. She found that I'd had an obscure "resonance" program on my hearing aid turned on, which muted low tones and made higher tones more severe. That was part of the problem. Turning it off helped, but it didn't totally correct it. Turning its volume up another notch delivered more feedback, but restored some balance between my two ears. It's always a compromise.

My CI hearing is not so good right now. Hoping to correct some harshness and echoing I was experiencing, my new map seems to have made it worse for the time being. What sounded great in my audi's office isn't so good out here. Sounds are still quite sharp, though I'm not cringing as much. I'm having a hard time understanding speech, which had been getting better. I'm having a period of adjustment, clearly. Be patient, I tell myself.

I'm afraid that if my other ear goes deaf as suddenly as my left one did that I will be at the mercy of my cochlear implant. I explained my fear to my audi --that even though I've gotten much better, if I had to rely solely on it, I'm not sure I can hear well enough with it to get by very well, especially at work. She assured me that I would do better than I think. But I'm still apprehensive.

I know I've improved a lot in my cochlear implant hearing. Though voices and sound are not completely like my better ear, when I plug it and listen only through my CI, I can distinguish voices, pitch, and volume much better than before. And I can nail my vowels almost every time. Some consonant sounds continue to evade me -- /m/ and /n/ sound exactly the same, and I must rely on speech reading to help me know if someone says ma'am or Nan. I mistake /r/ for /l/ every time. [It reminds me of A Christmas Story when the family listens to the Chinese waiters sing "Deck the hars with boughs of horry..."] 

Click here to enjoy that scene again! (My life, haha!)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46WcFObgYhI

So we practiced these sounds a bit more during our programming session. "Ride," I repeated. My audiologist giggled at me. "Lied," she said. Damn.

As we ended this appointment, she told me to be patient and give this program a try for a few weeks, and let her know if it doesn't improve. I can always come back... Ah. Not that I don't love my audi, but of all the things I love the most, going back for more isn't one of them.