My recovery from surgery continues to go well. I had a minor hiccup late last week: I awoke Friday morning to some not-insignificant skin irritation around my incision. My surgeon opted to start me on a course of Keflex just in case there was an infection brewing, and the incision is looking much less angry now. (My skin tends to rage at those dissolvable sutures that are so popular these days -- I have a still-gnarly 24-year-old scar on the inside of my right ankle that acquired much of its hideousness from those blasted things following open reduction, external fixation surgery to correct a scary bi-malleolar ankle fracture.) My flirtation with infection earned me a bonus visit with my surgeon this morning, but my activation is still on deck for tomorrow, July 21st.
I met with some work colleagues Monday morning, most of whom I hadn't seen since my return to work last Thursday. Our usual pleasantries were augmented with lots of inquiries of the "how are you feeling?" and "how did the surgery go?" variety, and I played my part by pasting a brave smile on my face and saying lots of grateful, cheery things.
I am nothing if not grateful, and I'm certainly cheery -- at least most of the time -- but my feelings about this experience continue to evolve and are far more complex than can be conveyed in a three-minute klatsch at the top of a Zoom meeting. To wit:
I chose a cochlear implant because, after considering my options and talking to experts (including other recipients), I felt it was the best solution for me. The issues I've written about (tinnitus, listening fatigue, sound localization problems, etc.) have been debilitating and while I know my implant won't restore me to "normal" hearing, it is the closest to a return to normal that I can get. For me, the chance to improve my quality of life and overall well-being was the deciding factor. But do I believe everyone who can get a cochlear implant should get one?
Absolutely not.
It's a personal decision, and while I certainly support better access to this technology (especially when it comes to single-sided deafness, but that's another rant about the U.S. healthcare system for another day) I believe the choice to pursue it should be an informed one, made by the patient, with support and counsel from medical experts they trust.
There are many in the Deaf community that stand in vehement opposition to cochlear implants. (The word "Deaf" when capitalized refers to cultural Deafness. Dr. Barbara Kannapel, a Deaf sociolinguist, defined it to include "a set of learned behaviors of a group of people who are deaf and who have their own language (ASL), values, rules, and traditions.") My understanding of the perspective against cochlear implants is that the Deaf aren't broken, so therefore they don't need to be "fixed" with medical technology. To be clear, though, I am an outsider and I don't wish to speak for anyone in the Deaf community -- this is just my own synthesis of the information I've been gathering.
That said, speaking as a hard of hearing person, I do think there is a difference between an adult like me choosing a cochlear implant and a hearing parent choosing to implant a deaf child who is too young to understand what's happening. I spent the first almost-45 years of my life in the hearing world, and my choice is to return to that world, or at least to its border. But I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the Deaf world, the one I've been given the opportunity to observe much more closely these last eighteen months. I cried tears of joy when Deaf actor Troy Kotsur received the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his performance in the movie CODA -- and the entire auditorium signed their applause. I still get choked up, too, when I watch k-pop sensations BTS perform Permission to Dance with the signs for "dance," "peace," and "enjoy" front and center in their choreography. I am continuing to study and practice ASL, and I'm even more attuned to accessibility challenges than I was before. I often think about starting a second career as an ASL interpreter one day, too.
I want to continue to live my life straddling both worlds -- to embrace the d/Deaf and hard of hearing community while undertaking the necessary actions to exist more peacefully in the hearing world, too.
I cannot abandon one for the other.