I hear you now

This is for all you older folks out there whose hearing aids no longer cut it—especially in noisy social settings where understanding what someone is saying requires an exhausting level of effort.

Here’s a typical conversation in a restaurant:

Server: “Would you like lemon with your water?"

Me: “Yes, I’m ready to order."

Wife: “He didn’t hear you. Yes, he’ll have lemon."

Me: “What’s this about lemons?"

Son: “Dad, turn your hearing aid up!”

Eventually, I’d had enough of those fractured conversations. I asked our family doctor if a cochlear implant might be an option considering my age. He said absolutely—he thought more people should consider it.

Betty made an appointment for me with the nearby Farragut ENT and Allergy office. On my first visit, I met briefly with the surgeon, Dr. Larson, who then introduced me to Dr. Phillips, the audiologist. I agreed to explore a cochlear implant.

At the next appointment, Dr. Phillips conducted a thorough set of hearing tests to determine if I was a candidate. The results confirmed a profound hearing loss in my left ear—enough to qualify me for the implant. Afterward, I met again with Dr. Larson, who explained the implant procedure in detail, after which his nurse scheduled my surgery at Covenant Health hospital.

Three weeks later, Betty and I arrived at the hospital for my scheduled 9:00 a.m. surgery—only to be informed it wouldn’t take place until 1:00 p.m. It was going to be a long day for Betty waiting patiently as my designated driver.

The pre-op procedure was quick. I slipped into a hospital gown and was hooked up to an IV and monitoring equipment. I expected the surgical team would shave the part of my scalp where the hardware was to be implanted, but they didn’t. I was wheeled into the operating room at 1:30 p.m.

They positioned me on my right side and asked if I was ready. A mask went over my face, and I was told I’d get a little oxygen—no mention of the anesthetic that came along for the ride. I don’t remember anything after that until I began to come to about an hour later.

Once I was alert enough to walk, Betty took me home, and I headed straight to bed. Sleeping on my left side was tricky for the first few nights. They gave me an ear protector that helped—when it stayed in place. Amazingly, I was allowed to shower the very next day. They had closed the incisions with waterproof glue, so there was no worry about the stitches getting wet.

A week later, I saw Dr. Larson for a follow-up. Everything looked good. Now I’d have to wait another two weeks for a complete healing before they activated the implant electronics.

At the activating ceremony, I was anxious to know if the implant was going to work for me, because it doesn't work for everybody. But first, Dr. Phillips walked me through how to charge the battery and how to operate and care for the device. There were five people in the room: Betty, me, both doctors, and a representative from Advanced Bionics, the device’s manufacturer. Finally, Dr. Phillips asked if I was ready. When I said “yes,” he activated the electronics from his laptop. The first thing I heard, loud and clear, was, “Can you hear me?” I was speechless! It was like experiencing a miracle.

With hearing restored in my left ear, the doctors recommended that I take a few sessions of physical therapy at their affiliate in downtown Knoxville. The first session was just another hearing test—this time across a long table from three UT grad students who were making different sounds to see if I could tell if they were the same or different. It was a total waste of time. I do not recommend going therapy unless you are having trouble hearing certain sounds.

So, if you are missing out on life because you're uncomfortable in social settings, my advice is to check into a cochlear implant. I think you will be pleased with the results.