Music Mayhem

This past weekend I attended a concert my brother was playing in as a member of the Purdue Wind Ensemble. It was the third time I've been to one of these since transitioning to Cochlear Implants a little over a year ago. The tough part to accept is the drastic difference in my perception of music from before CIs. The interesting part is what the absence of definition is teaching me about music.

He's the good looking one in the back-left, rocking the penguin suit.

I took a liking to music at a very young age. Ask my mom. By the time I was three I was obsessed with the family record player. By age eight this developed into an obsession with beating on anything that made a cool sound. By age eleven (coincidentally the year I began losing my hearing) I played in my first concert at Decatur Middle School. The kind where you have about 50 drummers playing bell kits and practice pads. And by playing I mean butchering. And by butchering I mean, we were absolutely in time with each other; clean as could be.

Despite my hearing loss and the use of two hearing aids, I took this passion for music and ran with it. I taught myself to play guitar during high school, while still playing drums in the marching band and various ensembles. I played bass guitar in a rock band that had a good shot at making it big, but I had to go off to college and stuff. In college I played bass drum for four years in the Purdue All-American Marching Band and then culminated the apex of my musical career by traveling to New York City in 2006 to play with the Purdue Wind Ensemble in Carnegie Hall.

It was this show in Carnegie where I realized just how passionate and emotional music can be. Our director, Jay Gephart, pieced together a seven song show that I will always hold dear to my heart. By 2006 (still wearing hearing aids) I was starting to notice a decrease in sound in my right side but my left side was still pretty good. The acoustics in that venue are so magnificent that to this day I can still remember just how amazing even the applause sounded.

I want to share with you one of the songs we performed that day, Fantasia on "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair" by Mark Camphouse. Maybe you can see why this song in particular is permanently embedded in my appreciation of music. If you don't have time to listen to all 12 minutes, at least do yourself a favor and listen to 7:15 through the end.



So what's different now? Well as I sat there last Friday listening intently, I kept realizing I wasn't really listening intently, I kept losing my focus. The easiest way to describe it is that my perception of music and pitch has been compressed. And as I receive sounds much more monotone-ically than I did in the past, I'm beginning to realize that there's something truly engaging about music as a dynamic range. The sound has developed for me enough over the past year that the instruments sound pretty realistic and somewhat close to how I remember them. I can pick out most of the different parts if I concentrate. But the range of pitch is not all there, leaving my brain confused and my senses less stimulated.

It's honestly a pretty enlightening revelation about the correlation between music, senses and emotions. I WILL say things have already progressed beyond anything I could imagine in just over a year with CIs, having been mostly deaf going in. As for Fantasia, it's not all there for me as I remember it, but I have the added benefit of knowing what it DOES sound like and that helps my brain fill in the missing info. I still can't listen through that track without getting goosebumps (even if it is pitchy), which is not something I can say for many songs anymore.

The good news, as always, it only gets better. Stay tuned...(ba doom, ping).

Back to Normal Hearing?

Recently I've had a few people ask me questions such as:

"When will your hearing be back to normal?"

OR

"How long will it be until you're hearing 100%?"

So I figure it's a good time to throw an update out there. First off, what is normal? If normal is what natural, un-aided, loss-less hearing that I was born with is like, well, I hate to break it to you my friends, but it will never be normal again. Cochlear Implants work by completely bypassing the outer ear canal and all of its intrinsic functions, sending a direct electrical impulse to the Basilar Membrane resulting in brain interpretation of sound. Follow? So when people joke that I'm bionic, they're really not kidding. And as you can imagine, a set of 22 electrodes and their tiny little electrical stimulations can hardly recreate the natural work of 30,000 hair cells.

Does that mean I'm hearing 1/1500 of the definition of sound that the natural ear experiences? Not exactly. Even though I'm getting a much, MUCH, less defined sound, the brain works its magic and over time adjusts to this new "sound". In my case, having a past experience with natural sound, my brain has effectively pieced things together so that many sounds (mostly less complex) sound very close to how I remember them. But they'll never be normal again.

Unless...

If we define normal as the everyday sound I'm used to hearing, then I really am getting close to being back to normal. This is who I am now, bionic ear and all. Speech sounds pretty good but slightly sore-throated, singing sounds whiny and pitchy, drums sound like drums, trumpets sound like party-horns. Thankfully, 80's metal still sounds like 80's metal and T-pain will always sound like T-pain (if you watched that whole video, I apologize, not really).

As far as 100% goes, I think 100% realistically is over the course of my life going forward. It's true that the most progress is evident during the 1st year, but the longer I get used to and adjust to this new way of hearing, the more it will continue to improve.

One roadblock I've hit is that I have a dominant ear due to having my surgeries, and subsequent new sound learning periods, about 5 months apart. My Right ear surgery was 1 year ago today, December 13th, 2010, and after having the implant activated and being forced to wear it by itself I experienced a rapid increase in sound volume and clarity.

The second time around with the Left ear it's been much more difficult to use one ear by itself because I know exactly what I'm missing now. I have an excellent hearing ear on my Right side and when I shut it off, it's painfully obvious how much harder it is to hear and how distorted things sound. Even though my Left ear isn't quite at the same level, it still helps tremendously to have hearing on both sides. And even though my Left ear has progressed much slower, it still has the potential to gain much more.

Now I just have to force myself to spend time listening with only my Left side...something I'm trying to work on periodically during situations where I'm not dependent on conversation. I tried this out last Saturday for about 5 hrs in the morning, and was noticeably stressed and worn out by noon, but every little bit helps, I can tell the difference when I put the time in.

Happy Bionic Birthday to me! Words can't express my gratitude...but if they could, I could hear them.

"3 CIs would be awesome, word"

What I'm Thankful For

Earlier today I caught this story about Dr. Mike Hirshorn, former CEO of Cochlear, losing his battle with cancer last Friday. A man who fought to bring a new technology to the general public and played a huge role in enabling thousands of individuals across the world to experience hearing, some for the 1st time. A man who, prior to this morning, I had never heard of.

And that got me thinking...

If I were alive 50 years ago, I would be completely deaf. Having lost my hearing at the age of 28, I would be forced to learn sign language, read lips and pass notes. I would be looking for a new job, or at a minimum would see my current responsibilities severely reduced/altered (neither of which is desirable).

And even today this would be the case...except that:

In the late 1700s a guy named Alessandro Volta stuck 2 metal rods in his ears and hooked the other ends up to a (give or take) 50V battery.

(Disclaimer: This is NOT a picture of Volta himself. No one was harmed in this experiment that I'm aware of, though it should not be attempted at home)

From then on it was a race and challenge to see who could develop artificial hearing technology, and what was really possible. Dr. Hirshorn was a major player in bringing this technology mainstream. And the technology is still rapidly developing. I have 2 internal implants that I plan to use for the duration of my life, however in that time I will likely upgrade my external processors multiple times, resulting in better and better hearing and more advanced features at each stop.

And all of this got me thinking...

I could "go back 100 years" with any number of things and look at how my life would be different. How I would be walking, riding a horse/buggy, or saving for a Model-T. How I would be handwriting and licking stamps rather than typing and clicking "send" (okay, I still lick stamps).

But of all the inventions and all the technologies and all the advancements, what are the things that are really enhancing my life?

A car is great for getting me further distances in shorter times. I could also reduce my radius and ride a bike for what I needed to do if I had to.

A smart phone is great for speed of information and communication. I would argue my smart phone has also made me less personal with those around me.

A flat screen TV has made my football watching experience sometimes more enjoyable than being at the game (when you consider cost, food/drinks, parking, crowds, etc). I also spend more time sitting idle and less time outdoors.

Don't get me wrong. All of these are incredible advancements, things I truly appreciate and often take for granted. But benefiting from the years of research and development of Cochlear Implants is something that has truly impacted and redirected my life for the better.

I've concluded that there's a ginormous difference between inventions that advance our capabilities and inventions that directly advance our senses. Still waiting on that TV where you can smell the Food channel. A "taste-able" menu in a high end restaurant would be equally stellar.

This Thanksgiving I wish to say thanks to all of the physicists, scientists, engineers and medical professionals that make my hearing possible. Your sacrifices have positively impacted and increased my quality of life indefinitely.



(and as my brother reminds me this Thanksgiving and always that HE is thankful for the good "genes", I would like to remind him, and the rest of you, it is I who actually look good in them. Ba-Doom-Ping)

Hey Baby

It was just 10 months ago that I entered the world of artificial hearing. Artificial, being only a word; what I hear sounds so much better than artificial. 10 months, a time so short, seems to me so long.

"Coincidentally" this year has seen the births of quite a few newborns for some very close friends of mine. I say coincidentally with some reservation. Truth is, babies have been born all around me my whole life...it seems I'm just now starting to notice. Just now starting to appreciate these precious little ones. Just now starting to enjoy being around them. And, coincidentally, just now starting to hear them.

Hearing the softest sounds of breathing while they sleep.

Hearing those gurgling sounds as they drink, or eat, or whatever it is they're doing (and then pass them off before they throw it all up!)

 

Hearing their passionate cries of optimism as we support our fellow Boilermakers.

Hearing their joyous bouts of laughter while they demonstrate their ability to "roll over".

Hearing their non-response to my attempted conversation (but really, her shirt says it all)

Heck, I've even enjoyed listening to baby kittens, and whatever sound it is they make.

One thing that is difficult for me is that 4 years ago I had an opportunity to experience this joy in my own family when my niece Lydia was born, but with my hearing deteriorating at that time I wasn't able to appreciate it as I am today. Now that I have re-surging hearing in both of my ears, I've been able to enjoy much more interaction with her. My older brother put it in perspective for me a few months ago: 

"I remember the dinner at Mom & Dad's when I learned you weren't wearing one of your hearing aids because your right ear had just stopped working completely. And that it would probably happen to the other one soon enough too. The holidays last year where you just sat in the room and couldn't understand anyone. It all absolutely crushed me. But now you're able to have like-normal conversations again, hang out and watch movies/sports, and it's especially wonderful to see you able to interact (well) with Lydia finally."

Hearing loss affects so many people, and not just the person experiencing the loss. But even if I did miss out on her first few years, what I'm experiencing now is quickly making up for it. Just look at the excitement on her face when I gave her this shirt last Christmas:

You CAN'T force that kind of excitement! I would say I'm embarrassed about the excitement on my own face, but really now, "excitement" was what this picture was all about.

I'm thankful for all of my friends who've recently had babies, thus eliminating my need to for now (silencing the rumors before they start). I'm equally thankful for the medical professionals who have made each and every one of these new experiences so meaningful to me.

Thoughts on the Cochlear Recall

Recalls can be a scary thing. Especially when that recall involves a device your hearing is dependent upon. Earlier today Cochlear, the manufacturer of my magically delightful hearing gadgets, posted this notice regarding the suspension of sales and distribution of the Cochlear Nucleus CI512 cochlear implant. Note this is just the inner device, implanted in the cochlea inside the ear. The recall does not involve the external sound processors.

The tough part being if your device actually fails, which is apparently unlikely, you would have to go through surgery to remove the defective implant and re-implant a working model. Before I get too far ahead of myself I should make it clear that I have not in fact been implanted with the device listed on this recall (UPDATE, see comment below). That said, I still have some thoughts on the matter as it hits pretty close to home:

-Any time the recall of an item involves a surgical procedure dealing with your head, it's a serious thing and there's nothing delightful about it.

-Any time the recall of an item threatens to take away your ability to hear, communicate and function on a daily basis, it's a frightening thing and there's nothing pleasant about it.

-Despite all this, I believe (and can see) Cochlear is very dedicated to providing a long-lasting durable product while helping any way possible to resolve situations like this that arise.

-At the end of the day, if I did have a defective device (or ever do) I would not hesitate to undergo surgery and be re-implanted with a working device.

It beats the alternative.

It's easy for me to forget just 9 months ago I was on the verge of a complete loss of hearing in both ears, wrapped up in a constant struggle to associate with the world around me while rapidly losing any sense of normalcy. It's easy to forget because most of the time I don't even realize I'm wearing anything on my head. I still double-take anytime I see a picture of my backside (insert joke here). My initial reaction is typically something like, "It's so noticeable, I mean, it's like SO big".

In all seriousness though, I'm forever grateful for the years of research, dedication and countless hours that have gone into designing a device that not only eliminated my severe state of disconnect, but sounds so good I forget I'm not normal.

But honestly, what is normal anyway?

Time once again to count my blessings. I mean seriously, I'm sittin' hear listening to Fergie sing the National Anthem on MNF and she actually sounds halfway decent.

Now THAT my friends, is a miracle.

(for further info on this "voluntary" recall of "un-implanted" devices, read HERE)