I Can Hear It In Your Voice
“You don’t sound like you’re deaf.”  Since I’ve gotten my cochlear implants, I get this a lot. A few weeks ago, Dave and I were talking with someone about hearing loss.  I was explaining how my CIs worked and that when I take them off, I’m totally deaf.  He looked amazed and said, “If you hadn’t told me, I would never have known you had any type of hearing loss at all.” “Hang on” I said, as I slipped the magnets off my head and let them dangle down to my shoulders.  Then I continued speaking.  “I can’t hear myself talking now, but Dave and Paige tell me that my voice changes when my CIs are off.  They can tell when the battery dies

(tap tap) Is this thing on?
I think I’ve been cursed with “what do I write about?” syndrome. I’ve noticed it seems to hit most people who started a blog when they began researching cochlear implants. First you’ve got the research and testing to go through, then the surgery, recovery, activation, mappings, hearing new sounds…and then what?  After a while your hearing (or lack of it) is no longer the focus of your days.  What is there to say?! When I started my blog, it was a way to express the many different ways I was affected by suddenly going deaf.  I felt like I was adrift, all alone, not a part of regular hearing society or the culturally Deaf community.  It’s not a common oc

The (Failed) Walk
Last week, Dave and I went for a walk after dinner.  It was a little later than usual, 7:15 pm or so, but the weather was perfect and we decided to head out around the neighborhood. We always really enjoy these walks, taking the chance to check out landscaping and, in Dave’s case, look at antennas (he has a thing for them) and driveways (since we are in desperate need of a new driveway).  By the way, have you priced driveways lately?!  Good grief.  Ours, however, is really in a bad way and I’ve been teasing Dave about having to mow the driveway because weeds are growing up everywhere through the cracks.  So we stop and sigh every time we see a new concrete or p