That Was a Good Drum Break

This past Memorial Day weekend will be memorable with me for quite some time. For the first time in 7 years I played bass drum in the Purdue All-American Marching Band with the drumline. I was just beginning to notice significant hearing loss with my hearing aids 7 years ago. I was also 15 lbs lighter and a little crazy at times:

It was a delicious burger. Bob Sanders and Dallas Clark ruined our day in Iowa City.

Thanks to some connections and a pressing need for bass drummers, I was asked to participate in the Indianapolis 500 Festival parade and pre-race ceremonies at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway prior to the Greatest Spectacle in Racing.

I was looking forward to this opportunity for quite some time once I realized the last time I played with the band I was on a downward slope with hearing aids. Now a little over a year in with cochlear implants, drumming is one of the most realistic sounds to me since it's not overly complex with pitch variation and such.

The 95 degree weekend did it's best to keep us drenched despite a drought. I consumed more water in 2 days than the previous month I think. There were a few times during the parade on Saturday I was really second guessing my 29 year old body. Never have I heard my drum instructor yell at everyone to stop playing, take their hats off and sit in the shade. It was odd.

One thing that never goes away is the feeling of forgetting something. Driving to meet the band at 5:30am on Sunday to head to the track, I couldn't shake the nagging sense that I was wearing the wrong shirt, or forgot something important, like what time the buses left. To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late. To be late is to be left behind. I was on time.

The sound was definitely incredible. The size of the drumline was about 2/3 of what we normally had in the fall (as the 500 is voluntary), but still I was in love with the sound. The band, however, sounded similar to my first 6th grade concert. A little pitchy at times, but recognizable. One thing I've noticed with CIs is they really limit background noise very well. But with the setting this weekend, it made it very hard to hear the band while playing. Not necessarily bad, but absolutely different from what I was used to. Nevertheless, I heard the cadences amazingly well. Never in my college experience with hearing aids could I distinguish the different snare, tenor, bass and even cymbal parts so clearly. It was like playing the same old stuff again for the first time. 

We even played one cadence that I've never played before, yet heard many times since graduation while back at football games. Chunky Munky. In one section of 8-second-bass-drumming-bliss, we had a bass solo comprised of split sextuplets, which are basically fast. And I nailed it. I nailed it like Veronica Corningstone in Anchorman.  

The biggest difference between bass drums and the rest of the line is that each bass drummer plays a different part which all come together as a whole to sound like one part with different pitches (since each drum is a slightly different size). Counting is a necessity, and when it comes together the way it did this weekend, and so many times while I played at Purdue, it's magical.

Very thankful for experiences like this past weekend, to the people who made that possible, and for the continued "new life" I'm experiencing with CIs. Thankful as always for the freedom I enjoy thanks to the service of both my grandfathers, and the many men and women who serve our country every day. This was my 13th straight year at the Indy500, and truly an experience like no other.

Not finished. I'm just getting started.

Cat Calls

Sometimes vulnerability is a good thing to embrace. Today I'm coming clean: I'm a cat lover.

WHOA Whoa whoa...don't get me wrong. I don't love YOUR cats. I love mine. I've mostly always considered myself tolerable of cats, but ever since these two guys showed up on the scene 7 years ago, I've had to re-think my feline-allegiance:

 Yes, I had hair. Sonny is the gold one, Rex is the cow.

Sure there are ups and downs. Nobody wants to come home and find Sonny's newfound addiction to licking and chewing photographs. But maybe that's just his way of expressing his appreciation for all the food I buy. Hard to tell.

I've met my share of witchy cats over the years, but these guys have given me hope. They follow me around the house, not just for food, but so they can lay on me wherever I come to rest. I absolutely feel appreciated by them, as much as one could from a cat.

(Ahem)...Some people try to give me slack for owning cats and openly professing my love for them...but then I go and find out those people own purse dogs...like yorkies. I'll leave it at that.

How's this tie into hearing? Well, one of the functions I have on my CIs is called "microphone sensitivity" and is best visualized as a radius of sound around me. I can change the setting from 0 to 20 and it controls how big the circle goes out looking for sound. It can be QUITE helpful especially in loud and noisy environments. It has also helped me hear things I never knew existed when it's quiet and I crank the sensitivity up. I like to wear one of my CIs at night, and unless you like to sleep with earplugs in I would assume you can understand why. So last night as I was about to doze off, I realized there was a strange sound I didn't recognize. Sonny was sleeping a little closer than normal and his nose must have lined up perfectly with my mircophone.

Now you have to understand, Sonny boy is a special child. He never really developed a meow...it's always just been a semi-pathetic-squeakish-hiss. For the first time ever, I could hear him purr. It was SO distinct I knew what it was instantly, and so faint that it's no wonder I've never noticed. The sound coupled with the blissful look on his sleeping face gave me a renewed, peaceful appreciation for these two guys. And it is in their honor, and cats with a bad name everywhere, that I present to you:

The Top Ten Reasons My Cats Are Awesome

10. They Are Purdue Colors.

9.  They love a quiet evening by the fire.

8.  They work hard at their craft.

7. They help clean the toilets.

6. They embrace their weight issues, open and honestly.

5. They appreciate holiday cheer.

4. They never give up.

3. They eagerly await the cleansing hour of bathtime.

2. They dance like nobody's business.

And the #1 reason my cats are awesome,
They exercise complete discretion in all situations, ever-aware of their surroundings, without shame.

Not so funny meow, is it?

Breaking Down Barriers

Barriers have set up camp in my life for too long now. Sometimes I don't even know they're there. I've never known barriers to be healthy, except for those ones going down the middle of the interstate, those are good.

I've been attending a church in downtown Indianapolis for almost 3 years now. When I first started going there, my hearing was still on the rapid decline. This church has different groups that meet for various activities about every 6 months, then they do new ones. A great way to meet people, yet I really struggled in the past with the desire to put myself out there and battle through conversations (or lack there of) due to my hearing.

Barrier.

Right around the time I received my first Cochlear Implant, I decided to jump off the deep end and give one of these groups a chance. It happened to be a 4 month group reading 4 different C.S. Lewis books. I still couldn't hear great, and only on one side, but I was hearing something instead of nothing and I suddenly had the confidence to be around people more and more. Unilateral hearing made the group discussions very difficult, and I had to turn my head from side to side A LOT, but it felt good just to be around people, even if I only heard about 50% of the conversation.

Barrier Coming Down.

Shortly after that Spring group ended and the Summer groups were starting, I suddenly had the courage to volunteer to LEAD a group! I decided nothing is much more fun than spending the weekends outdoors, and about 10 of my friends agreed, so we all went hiking at various parks around the state on Saturdays. I was Bi-lateral at this point, and with being outside and the absence of square-room-type reverberation, I began to hear and converse quite well.

Barrier Defeated.

So fast forward to this Spring we took a break from hiking in the Fall, but recently got the band group back together and it has made for some very enjoyable hiking so far this year (especially with the early summer-ish weather). This past weekend, by chance, no one from the group was able to join me, so I got to spend some time at Mounds State Park in Anderson out in nature alone, which is something I find very peaceful.

 Looks very ripe this time of year

 

First signs of Spring

After a 3 mile hike through the woods, I was ready to head back home. 

But I couldn't.

Because I knew my grandma lived 5 minutes away, and being by myself I really had no excuse not to stop in and say hi.

But that would require a courtesy phone call.

My ears hate(d) phones.

Barrier.

With CIs I don't hear great on the phone, but I'm finally to the point where I'll always give it a shot, and if it's too hard to hear, I'll tell you (but usually, it's not).

Barrier Defeated.

After spending an hour chatting with my grandma over a diet coke, which made her day as much as it did mine, I couldn't help but think about the barriers to conversation that no longer control my life. There's obviously some sound environments that make it easier than others, but I'm becoming more aware of what I'm capable of and subsequently find myself enjoying more life than the barriers would like.

I'm feeling demolistic, so what other barriers around here need knocked down?

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.