After 42 years, woman hears for first time
John Faherty
The Arizona Republic
Aug. 30, 2006 12:00 AM
Sherri Collins was using sign language to talk to her husband Tuesday afternoon when she suddenly stopped.
"Oh, I can hear him signing," she said with a look of amazement. "His hands make noise. I didn't know that."
Collins, 42, executive director of the Arizona Commission for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing, was hearing things for the first time because her cochlear implant had just been activated.
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What she gained were the subtleties that can make a moment rich.
She heard the unique sound of a felt tip pen across paper. She listened to the dull hum of an air-conditioner coming to life. And after years of watching her husband sign to her, she learned the smack of two hands making a point.
"It's overwhelming, I don't know how to explain it. It's way beyond what I expected," Collins said.
Born profoundly deaf, she had spent her life using sign language, reading lips and using two hearing aids to bring her a modicum of normal sound. At its best, her hearing was 8 percent of normal.
Within minutes of her new device being turned on, she was hearing the "th" in "Thursday" and the "sss" in "sea shells." They were all new to her.
As audiologist Jennifer Ratigan adjusted the levels of the implant, Collins at one point said it was too loud.
Her husband turned to his mother-in-law and asked, "Have you ever heard her say anything was too loud?"
Cochlear implants, which bring sound to the deaf by using electronic pulses to activate nerves in the inner ear, have become increasingly popular over the past 20 years, but opting for the surgery is not an easy decision for the deaf.
Initially there were deep concerns in the deaf community about the surgery. Some feared it would further define deafness as something broken that needed to be fixed.
This philosophical concern was diminished by the practical benefits of cochlear implants. Recipients were widely reporting the benefits to other deaf people. It worked too well to be argued away.
A second concern was more emotional. Some feared people with the implants would leave the deaf community and start identifying themselves as part of the hearing world.
Collins was well aware of all the debates. She did research, she spoke to friends and colleagues and doctors and ultimately found the decision not difficult.
"Since the initial controversy in the deaf community years ago, we have found that deaf people who become implanted don't leave the deaf community," she said. "They become deaf people with cochlear implants."
People with cochlear implants are still deaf because they cannot hear without the devices. But the change is dramatic.
"I am most looking forward to hearing speech. Speech with clarity and nuance. And music. And to be able to understand the radio," Collins said.
In 2005, the Food and Drug Administration estimated that nearly 100,000 people worldwide have received implants. In the United States, approximately 22,000 adults and 15,000 children have them.
A cochlear implant receives sound from the environment, processes it and sends small electric currents to nerves in the inner ear, which then send a signal to the brain. The brain learns to recognize these signals, and the person experiences this as "hearing."
A hearing aid, conversely, is limited because all it does is amplify sound. Its effectiveness is diminished because it is merely increasing sound to an ear that does not work well.
The cochlear implant makes a more profound difference because it essentially bypasses the part of the hearing system that does not work.
Patrick Graham, a kindergarten teacher at the Phoenix Day School for the Deaf, had the surgery three months ago after thinking about it for 10 years. He says the surgery did not change his life, it simply provided another layer of information.
"I wouldn't call it easier, but I would call it more like 3-D," Graham said. "I have more information, more clues."
Michelle Kelley, 35, has thought of cochlear implant surgery, but she has decided against it. She is comfortable with who she is and her ability to communicate with the world around her.
Kelley teaches life skills at the Phoenix Day School for the Deaf and represents the degree of acceptance the deaf now have for people who choose the surgery.
"It is an individual decision," she said. "You have to respect that. I may not like it, but I am supportive of it."
Over the next few months, Collins will adjust to her new life. After years of trying to navigate the hearing world as a deaf person, she will begin to emerge as a person for whom sound has new meaning.
"The hearing world is different from the deaf world, but like all deaf people, I have always lived in the hearing world," Collins said.
Deafness did not define Collins entirely, but it was a big part of who she was. It was also what she did.
She plans to keep her job at the Arizona Commission for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing.
"Why in the world would I leave? I've worked in the field of deafness my whole life. I enjoy it," Collins said. "I am deaf, and I have a cochlear implant."
Collins has no question that her commitment to the deaf will not diminish as her ability to hear increases.
"I wouldn't get a cochlear implant if I had to leave the deaf community. I will always be most comfortable in the deaf community. It is where I have lived all my life."
The idea of remaining deaf, of staying in the deaf community, was echoed by Graham three months after he started to hear for the first time in his life. "Yes, I can hear, but I still consider myself deaf," Graham said. "Now, I feel like I have the best of both worlds. I feel like I'm bilingual."
