Day 7

I went to my Dad's house again, today, for a dinner, with my brother, Leo, his girlfriend, Alex, and little Freddie, their son. Firstly, I must stress that kids' voices/noises are just plain awful. I wouldn't know if it's just me, Ivan and other Implantees who notice this, or whether this is actually the case with 'hearing' people too...Mmm :/

This is probably the last consectutive day that I'll be writing about my progress, as not much happened today, except for one thing I've noticed. At the dinner table, I was not feeling, for the first time in my life, left out. Normally, dinner parties would confine me into my own little world and displaying the somewhat unconvincing Cheshire cat smile to anyone who was smiling or laughing.

Today, however, worked much better than expected. Initially, I never even thought about it until after the dinner. Now, that's something - having a dinner in a relaxed manner, as opposed to feeling something negative (lonely? left out? frankly,...bored?)

Although, I wouldn't be able to say I understood everything at the table, given the fact today is only Day 7 I understood much more than I would ever dreamed of, in the pre-Implant days.

It ended a good day. My dad gave me a jazz CD, primarily composed by Milt Jackson. I've never heard of him before he gave it to me, and to me his name will be remembered forever. Tonight, I repeated his album over and over again - it was such bliss. I don't know if it's the same for you guys out there but I found myself drifting to sleep to such relaxing, beautiful tunes. Something of which I've not experienced in a very, very long time.

Even if that's just me; falling asleep to music, I will listen to music at every chance I get. I used to think, 'Why do people have i-Pods?' and now I think, 'Blimey, I don't blame them'

From now on, I will write up a weekly progress on any major significances, as opposed to being daily. So much has happened in the first week, as it would, and probably should, that I thought all the days since switch-on were all worth writing about.

This prompted me to write a diary, with advice from Ivan. I started this diary so that I'd be able to read back on it in six months' time and hopefully have the opportunity to say to myself, 'Wow...a lot HAS changed...all for the better'. My reason putting up my diary onto the web is several people, who read Day 1 and Day 2, have suggested to me to do so.

I can only hope, to all of you people out there who are considering an Implant, that these words will help you make a decision, one way or the other, knowing they're reading the words from an Implantee. This can also be read by current Implantees or relatives/friends of Implantees. In all, this diary has turned into a blog for those whose lives are affected by deafness and the ability to hear again.

'Ere's to the future. Til next time... ;)

Day 6

Not much happened today in terms of C.I use. I ended up staying overnight in London at a deaf mate's house, so much of the morning and afternoon was spent with the C.I remaining packed away.

Come the evening, I had already arranged to meet my Grandfather, Fred. Tonight was the first time I've seen him, since the switch-on. On the train to Fred's, the onboard tannoy was saying something different. I wasn't sure if I heard correctly, '...if you see anything suspicious, please tell a member of staff'. I looked up to the scrolling information for the 'subtitles' and...I heard it right!

The next time the tannoy repeated the same sentence I was only able to pick bits and pieces of it, such as, 'Please keep bzzf bzzzflngng with you argh all times...If you see anything suspicious, etc, etc'. As the 'subtitles' scrolled the sentence I could remember back to the buzzy words and match it the subtitles.

So every time the tannoy said that sentence, or the 'destinations/arrivals' sentence, I find myself understanding a speech without needing to look at a face. This is the first time I have experienced this experience for over 10 years. The possibilities...!

The evening at Fred's went very well. I understood practically 99% of what Fred was saying and there was never a time when he had to repeat a word twice, 3 or 4 times or write the word down. For the first time in a long time, we can now have a normal conversation.

Fred remarked on how relaxed I looked and sounded. He went on to say that my voice was becoming more pronounciating and generally more confident. It has been 16 months since I heard my own voice. Over this time, slowly but surely, my voice was starting to change - to put it bluntly; deterioating. Over the first three days of switch-on I noticed my voice box's muscles were being used in places that I never even knew existed. It wasn't so much I ended up going to bed with a sore throat but I could the feel strength.

On that note: Robbie Williams - watch out(!)

Day 5

Today, I arranged to meet a deaf friend in, yep you've guessed it, London. I daren't imagine how much I've spent yo-yo'ing to and fro England's 'beloved' Capital city. I met my friend at Waterloo station, where it is almighty busy and agreeably loud. Concerned, if we stayed there for too long, I thought it might be pretty tiring for me taking in all the sounds. It turned out we stayed there for 2 hours, talking over several cups of coffee.

After a while, and showing my friend how much of a cyborg I am, I decided to switch off the processor and pack it away. I found, at this stage, that the combination of noise and sign-language was not natural. It wasn't so much I couldn't sign but it WAS that I couldn't ignore all the new sounds whilst I was listening/talking - distraction was at its highest.

I spent most of today with the C.I switched off. And imagining all of the people's efforts over the past 6 weeks of making sure that everything will turn out to be a success, I thought I would feel guilty of abandoning my new toy. But this was not the case.

I realised that now I have the choice to socialise in both 'worlds'; the Deaf and the hearing communities. However, I must admit, with that of most Deaf people's own decision not to agree 100% to the C.Implant, I was obviously a bit unsure what would happen of my friendships in this community, if I went ahead with it. Thankfully, this was also not the case.

I will always be proud of the friendships I have in the Deaf community, as they have all been supportive and intrigued by my decision to go ahead with the C.Implant. Like myself, most of the family and friends I've spoken to, since the switch-on, D/deaf and hearing alike, have been impressed at the success of the C.I so far.

Still early days yet. However, at Waterloo station I was beginning to 'hear' the tannoy from the rest of the surrounding noises, as opposed to I couldn't on Day 1 or Day 3. Despite hearing the tannoy I still could not understand it.

I find that as each day go on I have an accumulation of questions that arise for me to ask the programming experts at the C.I Centre. Such questions could be, 'Will I ever be able to "understand" the tannoy? Will the buses and cars ever sound different to each other? Do general background noises sound this awful to you, too? Will background noises ever become more distinguishable for me? Is everything really this loud for you hearing people? I almost fell over today, am I insured? My armpits started smelling, but I couldn't hear it?'

The latter, obviously, no. But there is nothing wrong with asking the dumbest questions in the world to your experts at the Centre, as; 1) at this stage, your brain is like a baby's, relearning material every day, and 2) the experts are very good people; extremely helpful and honest, answering all questions to the best they can.

This is it for today. Ciao.

Day 4

So far, I have not yet mentioned the fact that during the day I heard a constant 'buzz' noise from the processor. Apparently, this is normal. It is also apparent that as the program settings are upped more in volume the 'buzzing' will eventually be unnoticable. Well, today, I switched my program to the 121 volume and, indeed, the buzzing was not as noticable.

I did not do much today except to get a few bits and pieces from town. As always, I caught the bus. Whilst waiting for the bus, the road was deserted. Everything was so quiet, but, weirdly, at the same time the more distant and quiet sounds were perceived as loud. For example, 300 yards down the road I heard a lone car come to a stop at a T-junction and move off again. I turned my head to the noise and was surprised to hear the car rumbling towards me from such a distance. Bearing in mind, my program's volume was only set on 121 (40-50%)

If there's ANYthing to complain about hearing the world again, it's the fact that some people can't STFU. I was sitting on the bus back home from town and this geezer behind me just could not stop talking to the girl next to him. Thankfully, the trip was not long.

Another thing I could find room to complain, and wish I did, was a pain-in-the-arse talking on his mobile phone in the Quiet Zone on the train to London for practically the entirity of the journey - I looked at his face: 'Yeh, man - my contract's going well, been offered a new one in December. The good thing about this job is that transport is all covered. And guess what? I'm loving this - I can't read the Quiet Zone sign on the train window and am totally talking out of my own arse'. Unfortunately, he didn't say that last bit, but he was frustrating enough to the point where he decided to call everybody on his Phone Book and say exactly the same things, over and over - I switched-off. Deafness is bliss and sometimes you've just got to embrace it.

I went to visit my Dad tonight. I was a tad nervous, of course, cos my Dad was also somebody who wasn't very clear to understand. This is mostly because he has such a loud voice making it hard for clarity. However, tonight, there were no problems. Providing I looked at his face and lips, I could understand 90+%. It was a good evening, and, as each new day goes by, I am finding myself with more and more confidence.

Still early stages yet, so I must calm down. All these sounds coming in are making me tired relatively quickly, but I was told that once the brain has adjusted to most sounds, I will have more energy. For now, bed!

Day 3

Today, I went back to London for the second tuning process. Jennifer upped the level of volumes for two extra programs - giving me three in all. For those who know the basics of how the programs are achieved, my volume levels are currently set to 111, 121 and 131. For those who don't, 111 is about 30-40% of my potential volume, whereas 131 is about 50-60% - I think...?

So far, all the frequency range available on the processor (335Hz to roughly 6800Hz) are being received at the same volume as each other. For example, if my volume is set to 111, this means 335Hz will be 'heard' at 111 in the same way that every other frequency bands upto 6800Hz will be heard at 111 also. Having said that, though, I may be talking out of my own bum - I have noticed that some sounds appear quieter than others (especially the low vs high frequency ranges) - it may be my hearing aids didn't pick up the sounds that my Implant does, making perception confusing?

I came away from the Centre a happy man. I managed to stay and bombard Jennifer with lots of questions which I accumulated the day before and not only did Jennifer answer them all but she was as honest as she could possibly be. I was once told to ask Jennifer for a cable that I'd be able to plug the Implant into an I-Pod - Jennifer simply chuckled and said, 'No, boy - calm down, y'need to get used to your programs first'. I was 'slightly' disappointed at that, but as my friend, Ivan, has said on his blog, 'Patience is a requirement'.

On the train home, the onboard tannoy was pretty clear. The first time it said some things I could only grasp words here and there. But then I realised I'm on a train service that I've used umpteen times before so I should know/predict what the tannoy says. The next time the tannoy came on I heard not just, 'Welcome abroad the South-West trains service...' but also '...to Portsmouth Harbour, via Guildford. Calling at: Guildford, Haslemere...' etc etc - to say I was surprised to hear such clarity is an understatement.

The train's rail clicking and general humming become a little bit more distinctive, as opposed to Day 1 where everything sounded as one bad noise. I still couldn't hear the ticket conductor call out 'Tickets, please'. But in all, the general background noise on the train didn't sound so blurry or confusing.

Tonight, I went to see my brother, Leo. He splashed up a nice dinner - just what I needed after a tiring day yo-yo'ing up and down to London and back. In the pre-Implant days, Leo was somewhat the most difficult person in the whole family for me to understand - this was even when I had two hearing aids. Leo doesn't have much of a clear lip-pattern and he talks fast...VERY fast.

Nervously, I turned up at his house and there he was in the kitchen. 'Alright, Russ! How ya doing?'. There I was, thinking, 'Um...am I dreaming? Did I just understand Leo?' This was pretty much how the evening ended, understanding my own brother and gaining confidence as time went on. This is the same with Alex, Leo's girlfriend. Alex and I can finally talk freely again - I am on Cloud 9, yay!

Despite the success at my brother's house, it was still required that I looked at their face/lips as they talked - this helped me hugely. I -can- 'hear' people speak if I don't look at them, but it's a matter of 'understanding' them, which, at the moment, I cannot.

General TV sounds, general house noises and general background noises are all becoming clearer although, at this stage, not all are recognisable.

Day 2

Today was supposed to be my 2nd tuning day in London. But I couldn't go, for those who know these terms they'll know why: 'train' and 'somebody jumped the line', so I ended up staying at home.

Initially, I was disappointed to smithereens. Commiseratively, I turned on the TV to watch snooker. The balls...whoa...'P-CKK!'...echoing 'P-CKK-K' - if anything, they sound exactly how I remember them.

With a rise of happiness over this simple issue, I suddenly felt ambitious and stared wantingly at the CD player; 'Your mine...' I whacked in my favourite album of all time, The Prodigy's 'Experience'. The first track I promised myself to play, although with utmost, involuntary pleasure, I played 'Weather Experience'.

The music started off...'swiiiiiiiirrrlllLLllLLllllll, bmm, bmm, bmm, bmm... 'Wales, and in the more central and southern parts, it'll be a fine dry day...(etc)'...bmm, bmm, bmm, bmm..........der-der-der,bmmmmm, der-der-der, der-der-der, bmmmm, der-der-der...' A tsunami-style wave of shivers over took my body and as soon as the drum beats came in, I burst into tears.

The music was much more similar, than expected, to how I've experienced it pre-Implant. Although there were a lot of tunes I couldn't pick out clearly, I was still glad to have listened to whatever I was hearing at that moment. I ended up playing the whole album - and, yeh, crying more like a soppy baby.

In the evening, Mum and I 'played' some more mouth-covering word games - today, we covered people's names, food, and drink. People names was hard - too much variety at this stage. Food worked out OK and drinks also went down pretty badly (no pun intended!).

General progress, however, include ability to seperate a few more sounds from the TV, the CD player (with tracks I already know off by heart), what Mum's doing upstairs (feet shuffling across the floor or hoovering), conversation with Mum was becoming easier and cars/buses are now recognisable although they still sound like swirling water, as they did on Day 1.

Another thing, Mum's friend, Bev, visited the house this evening. Normally, I wouldn't be around people for long because I wouldn't be at all comfortable with trying to converse to them. Usually, I totally misunderstand what they're saying. More often than not, I would make an excuse to..um...excuse myself before running upstairs into my bedroom and playing the role of a loner. I didn't quite fancy the idea of sitting down and displaying a wide Cheshire-Cat smile to people whenever they laughed or smiled.

But tonight, before I could make any lame excuse, Bev asked me a question. I answered. Before I knew it we sat there talking non stop for an hour - during which I understood practically 90% of what was being said - this, like yesterday's conversations at the CI Centre, wouldn't have been possible without the help of lipreading. I know it is only Day 2, but despite the fact I can 'hear' voices, I can't 'understand' much of a conversation without lipreading.

Tomorrow, 2nd tuning proceduring. For now, bed. Oh, btw, talking about bedtime - as I'm drifting away into blissful sleep I often notice 'flashback sounds' of what I heard earlier in the day. I wasn't sure if yesterday's bedtime episode was all an imagination - they sounded a lot like the voices I heard throughout the day. But tonight, it's slightly different - it appears my brain likes to repeat what it heard earlier; the beats from the 'Weather Experience'!

Day 1

Hey, everybody. My name is Russ. I'm from Portsmouth, England. As you can see, I have decided, after not being 'recommended' to do it, by my friends, but by being partially forced, to create a blog of my progress as a newly Cochlea Implantee. I have also been inspired by a truely excellent blog from an Ivan, from Malta, who cleverly and aptly-named it, 'Hear Again', at http://hearagain.blogspot.com/

I may just be talking to myself here, but hopefully this blog will provide an interesting read for those who come across it. So here goes...!

Today, 23rd October, 2006, is switch-on day. To say I was a tad nervous is an understatement. I was about to enter a relatively unknown world of electronic sounds. This coupled with other Implantees' comments and experiences of their own switch-on didn't exactly settle the jittering stomach.

Jennifer sat me down and instantly introduced me to the external device. The more she said about the device, the heavier my heart felt. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to get on with the switch-on or to run out of the room and yell, 'Wtf am i doiiiiiiiiiiiiing?'

Somehow, my arse stuck to the chair and my legs were dead. Jennifer plonked the device onto my ear and magnetted the, well, magnet onto my head. I was then plugged into the computer via the processor. After a few minutes of chatting, I was made jumped by a set of squeeling noises which disappeared after about 2 seconds.

After several heart-halting jumps the device was effectively making a horrendous noise - so horrible. This time it wasn't going away. It was so incoherent that I had no idea what it was, what I was listening to or why the noise was so abundantly disgusting. It was damn near frightening to discover the noise was of Jennifer speaking to me. After a lots more squeels, and with the help of lipreading, I was able to distinguish the noise into words.

Despite not being accustomed to the loudness of the device's program (apparently, only set at '30%') I was more than surprised at how well I was understanding Jennifer. I turned to Mum and started talking to her. Immediatedly, I could almost recognise her voice! There were tones that sounded so similar to what I remember of her voice, even though the majority still sounded squeeky.

Jennifer wanted to up the volume, despite my face withering in discomfort at the idea. After about 15 minutes of the switch-on I said to Jennifer, 'Blimey, you've got quite an American accent?'. Jennifer was surprised - she is from America!

Eventually, Jennifer got another lady, Melissa, involved. We all then started talking and much to my surprise I was also able to distinguish Melissa's accent to be relatively foreign; Melissa is South African. Within 30 minutes after switch-on, Melissa (a speech therapist) wanted us to 'play' the linguistic exercise of covering the mouth and saying a few words.

The exercise was mostly of one-worded speech, starting with the days of the week. I 'passed' with flying colours, but admitted there were only 7 words so it was relatively easy. Next topic was on months of the year, and, although a tad harder, I got through it reasonably well. I wanted more of a challenge so we went for countries. There are many countries they could have chosen to say although what they did say were all pretty predictable; 'America', 'Australia', 'South Africa', 'Spain', etc. But, by all means, I was getting off to a good start, much to everybody's, including mine, surprise and happiness.

After the switch-on proceduring finished, Mum and I walked to Regent's Park and had some lunch. I heard all sorts of noise but they weren't very distinguishable; "what's that or where's that coming from". I was picking up every kind of sound and so this was really becoming interesting.

Mum walked me over to a water fountain and it sounded like rain. For me, this was a good start - better than expected. I was approaching every new sound with a sense of nervousness, but after learning those sounds again I was given a new sense of confidence instead.

It was time to go home. Waterloo station was busy. The environment was loud, and completely indecipherable. I heard the odd footsteps, and was able to talk to Mum. But everything else sounded like bad music. I told Mum to point out when the overhead tannoy was speaking, and when she did, I couldn't figure it out - it was all part of the bad music.

The train journey home was packed. Unfortunately, Mum and I sat at a table next to 3 kids. Their voices were just plain cringing. The rails clicked and the humming of the train was loud. Again, I was not able to distinguish much of the 'bad music'. The onboard tannoy spoke and I could pick out some words when the train was stationary - but when the train was moving the tannoy was also 'unheard'.

In the taxi on the way home, the car sounded like amplified swirling water going down the plug - which, to my memory, shouldn't be! Indicators sounded exactly like so. Mum's voice to the driver was clear and very distinct. Keys jiggling in the front door was clear and loud. Footsteps in the house was loud but very clear. General noise around in the house sounded realistic. TV sounded was blurry but, much to my surprise, voices could be matched to the subtitles. And conversation with Mum was a doodle.

Bed early tonight - it was a big day and all those sounds just plain knackered me out. More to come...!