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DesMoinesRegister.com
Drake Weland's parents are almost certain he would not want to live in silence.
Drake was 11 months old when tests showed he was profoundly deaf. A doctor told his parents that an electronic implant could deliver sounds to his brain and help him learn to talk. The doctor said the devices, called cochlear implants, work best in babies - so Drake's parents had the surgery done right away.
Their choice is increasingly common, especially for the 90 percent of deaf babies born to hearing parents. But the practice concerns some deaf people, who say that parents should wait until children are old enough to decide for themselves.
Drake's parents didn't hesitate.
"We wanted to do everything possible to give him every advantage that we knew of - just like you would with any kid," said his father, Mitch Weland. "I hope I made the right decision. I hope he'll thank me when he's older. I think he will."
The energetic 2-year-old stands in his living room, listening for trains that rumble down tracks a few blocks from his Eagle Grove home. He often hears them before his parents do, and he gleefully makes the hand sign for "train."
Drake wears removable microphones on each side of his head. The microphones, which his parents call his "ears," turn sounds into electronic signals. The signals are sent to receivers inside Drake's head, which send them to nerves that run into his brain.
The implants allow him to catch many sounds, including speech and music. His parents expect that with special training, he will be able to hear and speak well enough to participate in regular classes when he is old enough to attend kindergarten. "He already knows his letters, the order they go in," Mitch Weland said. "He knows his numbers up to 10."
Difference vs. disability
More than 15,000 American children have received the implants, and doctors increasingly are performing the surgery while patients are babies or toddlers. The results have led to predictions that it will be rare to see a deaf child without implants - worrying some parents who choose not to get the devices.
Feelings run strong among many deaf people, who believe their lack of hearing is a difference, not a disability. They say deaf people find comfort and common bonds in a distinct deaf culture with its own language and traditions.
Susan Larrison, 22, had an implant put in when she was 18. It works well, she said, but she made the choice - unlike children whose parents opt for implants when they are young.
"The doctors are pushing and pushing them," said Larrison, who lives in Council Bluffs. "I think they're telling them their children are broken and need to be fixed right now."
Many other deaf people live happily without implants, by using sign language, interpreters and other measures, she said. And some people with implants turn them off because they're dissatisfied with the sound.
Children adapt best
About one in 1,000 children are born profoundly deaf, which translates into about 30 or 40 a year in Iowa.
Implant proponents say young children tend to adjust best to the devices, apparently because the language-learning areas of their brains are more adaptable.
"We know that the earlier you implant a child who is profoundly deaf, the better they do," said Dr. Bruce Gantz, who leads the cochlear-implant program at the University of Iowa. "If you get the device in by 12 months, most of these kids are going to grow up with pretty normal speech and language."
The doctor carefully tries to avoid offending deaf adults. He said he respects people who choose not to get implants, and he acknowledged that the devices are not for everyone. For instance, he noted, some deaf children also suffer from other developmental problems, which could complicate efforts to teach them to understand the sounds they hear through the devices.
Implants cost about $50,000 apiece, installed, which usually is covered by insurance. Their technology is improving, but no one claims they provide a perfect replacement for hearing. Patients must undergo extensive training to comprehend the signals. Experts liken them to a new computer, which is useless if you just take it out of the box and set it on a desk without learning how to operate it.
No implants for now
Michael George, who teaches at the Iowa School for the Deaf in Council Bluffs, is among parents who have decided not to have the surgery performed on their children. George and his wife both are deaf, and they have two deaf sons. Their older son, Caleb, has autism, and George believes he would gain little from an implant. But they also have decided not to have the surgery done on Caleb's 3-year-old brother, Wyatt.
"I wouldn't want to put something on him that he really couldn't comprehend yet," George said through a sign-language interpreter. "I wouldn't want him to come back and say, 'Why did you do this to me?' "
George uses hearing aids, which help him hear a little. Wyatt also is being fitted for hearing aids, but George said those represent a much smaller step than implants. Hearing aids don't require surgery, which has inherent risks, and implant recipients also face a higher risk of bacterial meningitis. Plus, hearing aids can be removed if they don't work or if the patient dislikes them. Implants stay in for good.
George has seen students whose implants work well, and students whose implants provide little help. He would not object if Wyatt decided to undergo the surgery as an adult.
George said he is confident deaf schools and deaf culture will survive, even if the number of children receiving the implants continues to grow. Many children with implants still need specialized help, he said.
Larrison, who graduated from the school for the deaf and hopes to teach there, is less sure of its future.
"It's scary," she said. "The deaf community is already such a small community."
Choosing surgery
The very idea of a separate deaf culture is hard for many hearing people to grasp.
Susan Hagarty of Colfax is a hearing parent of a deaf daughter. She said she is not concerned that her daughter, Madeline, 9, will miss out on a deaf culture. Madeline has two implants and goes to a regular school.
"All of our children, we believe, were born into the same culture," said Hagarty, who has two other daughters who are not deaf. The family's culture is rural and middle class and Catholic, Hagarty said. It is not deaf or hearing. "Madeline is the product of our creation," Hagarty said. "She is part of our culture."
The choice was one of many that parents must make for children, she said.
Hagarty said she worried a bit that Madeline would grow up and hate the implant. But she and her husband worried more about what would happen if they declined the implant. What if Madeline grew up without its benefit, then asked why they hadn't done what they could to help her?
"It's scary, because you don't know. There's not a crystal ball about what to expect."
Drake Weland's parents are almost certain he would not want to live in silence.
Drake was 11 months old when tests showed he was profoundly deaf. A doctor told his parents that an electronic implant could deliver sounds to his brain and help him learn to talk. The doctor said the devices, called cochlear implants, work best in babies - so Drake's parents had the surgery done right away.
Their choice is increasingly common, especially for the 90 percent of deaf babies born to hearing parents. But the practice concerns some deaf people, who say that parents should wait until children are old enough to decide for themselves.
Drake's parents didn't hesitate.
"We wanted to do everything possible to give him every advantage that we knew of - just like you would with any kid," said his father, Mitch Weland. "I hope I made the right decision. I hope he'll thank me when he's older. I think he will."
The energetic 2-year-old stands in his living room, listening for trains that rumble down tracks a few blocks from his Eagle Grove home. He often hears them before his parents do, and he gleefully makes the hand sign for "train."
Drake wears removable microphones on each side of his head. The microphones, which his parents call his "ears," turn sounds into electronic signals. The signals are sent to receivers inside Drake's head, which send them to nerves that run into his brain.
The implants allow him to catch many sounds, including speech and music. His parents expect that with special training, he will be able to hear and speak well enough to participate in regular classes when he is old enough to attend kindergarten. "He already knows his letters, the order they go in," Mitch Weland said. "He knows his numbers up to 10."
Difference vs. disability
More than 15,000 American children have received the implants, and doctors increasingly are performing the surgery while patients are babies or toddlers. The results have led to predictions that it will be rare to see a deaf child without implants - worrying some parents who choose not to get the devices.
Feelings run strong among many deaf people, who believe their lack of hearing is a difference, not a disability. They say deaf people find comfort and common bonds in a distinct deaf culture with its own language and traditions.
Susan Larrison, 22, had an implant put in when she was 18. It works well, she said, but she made the choice - unlike children whose parents opt for implants when they are young.
"The doctors are pushing and pushing them," said Larrison, who lives in Council Bluffs. "I think they're telling them their children are broken and need to be fixed right now."
Many other deaf people live happily without implants, by using sign language, interpreters and other measures, she said. And some people with implants turn them off because they're dissatisfied with the sound.
Children adapt best
About one in 1,000 children are born profoundly deaf, which translates into about 30 or 40 a year in Iowa.
Implant proponents say young children tend to adjust best to the devices, apparently because the language-learning areas of their brains are more adaptable.
"We know that the earlier you implant a child who is profoundly deaf, the better they do," said Dr. Bruce Gantz, who leads the cochlear-implant program at the University of Iowa. "If you get the device in by 12 months, most of these kids are going to grow up with pretty normal speech and language."
The doctor carefully tries to avoid offending deaf adults. He said he respects people who choose not to get implants, and he acknowledged that the devices are not for everyone. For instance, he noted, some deaf children also suffer from other developmental problems, which could complicate efforts to teach them to understand the sounds they hear through the devices.
Implants cost about $50,000 apiece, installed, which usually is covered by insurance. Their technology is improving, but no one claims they provide a perfect replacement for hearing. Patients must undergo extensive training to comprehend the signals. Experts liken them to a new computer, which is useless if you just take it out of the box and set it on a desk without learning how to operate it.
No implants for now
Michael George, who teaches at the Iowa School for the Deaf in Council Bluffs, is among parents who have decided not to have the surgery performed on their children. George and his wife both are deaf, and they have two deaf sons. Their older son, Caleb, has autism, and George believes he would gain little from an implant. But they also have decided not to have the surgery done on Caleb's 3-year-old brother, Wyatt.
"I wouldn't want to put something on him that he really couldn't comprehend yet," George said through a sign-language interpreter. "I wouldn't want him to come back and say, 'Why did you do this to me?' "
George uses hearing aids, which help him hear a little. Wyatt also is being fitted for hearing aids, but George said those represent a much smaller step than implants. Hearing aids don't require surgery, which has inherent risks, and implant recipients also face a higher risk of bacterial meningitis. Plus, hearing aids can be removed if they don't work or if the patient dislikes them. Implants stay in for good.
George has seen students whose implants work well, and students whose implants provide little help. He would not object if Wyatt decided to undergo the surgery as an adult.
George said he is confident deaf schools and deaf culture will survive, even if the number of children receiving the implants continues to grow. Many children with implants still need specialized help, he said.
Larrison, who graduated from the school for the deaf and hopes to teach there, is less sure of its future.
"It's scary," she said. "The deaf community is already such a small community."
Choosing surgery
The very idea of a separate deaf culture is hard for many hearing people to grasp.
Susan Hagarty of Colfax is a hearing parent of a deaf daughter. She said she is not concerned that her daughter, Madeline, 9, will miss out on a deaf culture. Madeline has two implants and goes to a regular school.
"All of our children, we believe, were born into the same culture," said Hagarty, who has two other daughters who are not deaf. The family's culture is rural and middle class and Catholic, Hagarty said. It is not deaf or hearing. "Madeline is the product of our creation," Hagarty said. "She is part of our culture."
The choice was one of many that parents must make for children, she said.
Hagarty said she worried a bit that Madeline would grow up and hate the implant. But she and her husband worried more about what would happen if they declined the implant. What if Madeline grew up without its benefit, then asked why they hadn't done what they could to help her?
"It's scary, because you don't know. There's not a crystal ball about what to expect."