Today is International Cochlear Implant Awareness Day. It's an obscure little recognition of a very big thing for people who have a cochlear implant. Most people are only aware of it because they happen to know someone who has one, or they are deaf/hard of hearing.
It's nice to try to spread the word about them. They can change lives, for sure.
So here are some facts for your awareness --
It's really pronounced "COCK-lee-er", not "COKE-lee-er" like most people have heard it pronounced. That was a surprise to me. Americans seem to be the only ones who mispronounce it. In the rest of the world, they say it right.
I found out that I was saying 'tinnitus' wrong, too. It's "TIN-it-us", not "tin-NIGHT-us" as I had thought. Though both pronunciations are acceptable by laymen, the first is considered "most correct" by medical professionals.
The idea of cochlear implants was first proposed by a man named Adam M. Kissiah in 1974. He was granted a patent on the first cochlear implant three years later in 1977. It basically delivered sound to a deaf person. A man named Graeme Clark is credited with the development of the modern multi-channel electrode and speech processor -- which turns those sounds into speech.
The first cochlear implants had body-worn processors. The familiar behind-the-ear processor came later as technology miniaturized. My processor is considered the smallest and lightest one on the market today. I'm interested in seeing where this technology will lead us in the future. I expect that, like hearing aids, the cochlear implant speech processor will continue to get smaller and less visible as the technology advances.
As of 2012, approximately 324,000 people have been implanted with a cochlear implant worldwide. I'd suspect that number is much higher now that the FDA criteria has been expanded to include those who are one-sided deaf, like me. The numbers can be expected to increase even more as the impact of hearing loss rises in our modern society. Hearing loss is reaching epidemic proportions.
Until I lost my hearing, I was completely unaware of cochlear implants. When I was diagnosed, my ENT said I would need a cochlear implant. I had to go home and Google it. I cried when I looked at the images of people wearing their processors. I didn't want to wear that monstrosity on the side of my head.
I changed my mind. Being able to hear was more important than my vanity.
Happy International Cochlear Implant Awareness Day.
I'm just a woman making sense of her hearing loss and seeking peace with her new life.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Wireless Technolgy...Just WOW
I've been playing with my new wireless technology. My new Linx2 hearing aid and my Nucleus 6 cochlear implant processor have the ability to pair with my new wireless devices -- the TV streamer and the Mini Mic.
Wow. Just wow.
I can stream sound from my TV directly to both ears. It is pretty amazing. To be able to hear again in what can only be described as "almost normal" is so wonderful that I sat up way too late the first night I used them -- basking in the awe and glory of sound. It brought tears to my eyes.
Then I used the mini mic at school. Wow. Again. It brought voices amazingly clear and close. It was a bit disturbing at first to hear my own voice so clearly too, but I got over it quickly as I relished being able to understand my students with ease I'd forgotten was possible.
Over the weekend, my hearing daughter helped me test the mini mic out in a restaurant, too. She walked across the floor, asking, "Can you hear me now?" until she reached the transmitter's limit. No one seemed to notice, or at least we didn't care if they did. We were having too much fun. The only thing we lacked was my ability to answer her beyond a shake of my head. It's not a walkie-talkie.
Hearing loss sucks. It really does. But technology helps to fill the gap. And that is pretty grand.
Wow. Just wow.
I can stream sound from my TV directly to both ears. It is pretty amazing. To be able to hear again in what can only be described as "almost normal" is so wonderful that I sat up way too late the first night I used them -- basking in the awe and glory of sound. It brought tears to my eyes.
Then I used the mini mic at school. Wow. Again. It brought voices amazingly clear and close. It was a bit disturbing at first to hear my own voice so clearly too, but I got over it quickly as I relished being able to understand my students with ease I'd forgotten was possible.
Over the weekend, my hearing daughter helped me test the mini mic out in a restaurant, too. She walked across the floor, asking, "Can you hear me now?" until she reached the transmitter's limit. No one seemed to notice, or at least we didn't care if they did. We were having too much fun. The only thing we lacked was my ability to answer her beyond a shake of my head. It's not a walkie-talkie.
Hearing loss sucks. It really does. But technology helps to fill the gap. And that is pretty grand.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
It's a Beautiful Thing
It's a beautiful thing. |
It's a ReSound Linx2 7 RIE Model 62.
It has more power than the remains of my Phonak Audeo BiCROS aid I'd been wearing for the past three and a half years. It also has more bells and whistles.
I opted for the "mid-range" model rather than the premium model. It has everything I need, and lots of things I'll probably never need. And it was about $500 less than the 9 series. I'm a "put-it-on-and-leave-it" kind of hearing aid user, so I figured the 9 wouldn't be worth the extra cost for me.
I didn't expect to hear THAT much better than I did with my old hearing aid. But the newer features are definitely a welcome addition. I can choose from 4 specific programs that adjust to my environment: Everyday, Restaurant, Performance, and Outdoors. Each one changes the directionality of my microphones and optimizes listening settings.
I had reached the point that hearing on the telephone was getting pretty hard. I cut phone calls short and preferred texting to voice calls. With the Linx2, I can stream phone calls directly to my hearing aid from my iPhone. I can ditch the phone clip now, and I can multitask while taking calls again. And I can listen to videos unaware during faculty meetings!
I can adjust volume and settings from my iPhone -- eliminating the need for another remote control. It also makes it unnecessary for me to memorize how many "soft taps" are needed on which button to change programs or volume. Or was that volume and programs?
I can stream TV directly to my hearing aid. I've had the capacity to stream TV to my cochlear implant for several months. To be able to listen to TV bilaterally is pretty fabulous, I must say. But don't try to talk to me while it's on because I won't be able to hear you!
I ordered a mini-mic with my hearing aid. It is supposed to bring voices nearer and clearer than ever. It, too, will pair with both my new hearing aid and my CI. Unfortunately, the mini-mic wasn't holding a charge and my audi wasn't able to get it to pair to my hearing aid. We had to order a new one. She's not charging me for the mini-mic. I love my audi.
I'm still getting used to the custom mold. I'd only worn dome tips before. The dome tips irritated my ears to no end, and I'd tried a number of versions in an attempt to find one that worked for me. The mold is more difficult to insert and it makes me feel like my ear is plugged (which it is because the mold fills it up!), but it fits like a glove and is very comfortable. It's made of clear material, so when it is inserted, it's virtually invisible -- fitting deep inside my ear canal. My audi assures me that I will get used to it, and it will keep more of the sound in so I don't whistle at people so much.
My first experiences with my Linx2 in the real world have been mostly successful, though I've adjusted the volume down quite a bit. Knowing I'm one who likes a lot of volume, my audi skipped the "new patient" settings and gave me a full setting from the beginning. I know from experience that I will adjust to the volume, so I won't ask her to change the volume when I see her for an adjustment in 2 weeks.
Hearing aids and cochlear implants can be an encumbrance -- remote controls and gadgets and batteries and spare parts and power cords and settings and wireless devices and mappings -- and the technology that comes with them can be overwhelming and distracting. People who use them understand how wonderful these new hearing aid features are. I'm still learning to navigate the technology so I can appreciate them more.
They're a necessary, important, and even wonderful encumbrance for those of us who need them. I can hear. For that, I am eternally grateful.
It's a beautiful thing.