The snowstorm postponed my mapping appointment, but it also gave me something unexpected: time. Time to look back at the last six weeks and notice how much has changed—and in ways I didn’t fully recognize without reflection.
As I reflect on the nine days since surgery—and think back to where I was six years ago—I find comfort in what I have already experienced and amazement in how much has changed in such a short time. There is reassurance in knowing the road ahead, and gratitude in the advancements that continue to shape the CI journey.
First, I am thankful for my family and friends—especially Troy—for their unwavering support. I am also incredibly thankful for my surgeon, Dr. Adunka, and the entire surgical care team for a successful procedure. I arrived at The Ohio State University Ear and Eye Institute Surgery Center at 6:00 a.m., was in surgery by 7:15, and by 9:30 Troy received a call from Dr. Adunka that all went well. Later, I learned that in addition to a successful insertion, there was a strong electrocochleography signal—a positive indicator for hearing preservation and residual hearing.
By 11:15 a.m., I was dressed and back on the road for the two-hour drive home. I had already determined that if all went well- I would celebrate with a Wendy’s Frosty and French fries—and I’m happy to report that the first stop on the way home was the Wendy’s drive-through.
Once home, I settled onto the couch for a weekend of rest. Overall, I felt pretty good—some headache and localized pain, and significant fullness on the right side that I know from experience will subside with time. Sleeping has been uncomfortable as I’ve tried to avoid that side, and I’ve had some bruising behind my ear and down my neck. All expected. All temporary.
With my first cochlear implant, there was nearly a month between surgery and activation. Six years later, my post-op appointment and activation day are scheduled together—just ten days after surgery. Love knowing that I have less time off the air!
There’s something about having been through this process before that makes healing feel more manageable. Knowing what’s coming matters.
Unilateral hearing loss is exhausting as I remember from last time. It also brings relief and builds anticipation for activation day going bilateral. Right now, with the fullness on my surgical side, it feels as though I have no hearing there at all. I hear my heartbeat and my voice inside my head. I remember this part clearly from last time—the listening fatigue, the strain, the effort.
This time, it’s been a bit harder because I returned to work for partial days, which has been exhausting. Naps after work have been a necessity. I’m also thankful for my remote microphone (Roger), which has been invaluable in meetings and even in the car.
Even though it doesn’t feel like I’m hearing much of anything in my right ear right now, I know residual hearing is there. When I hold my phone up to my left ear and then my right while listening to music, I can perceive sound. My “unofficial” hearing test gives my hope for those low frequency sounds.
Next steps begin this week with post op visit, hearing test for that residual hearing, and activation day. I can’t help but wonder how my brain will respond to bilateral input. Will it sound like the first time—full of chirps, beeps, and whistles? Or will my brain be more prepared, more tuned in? Either way, I know auditory training will be part of the journey.
My goal is simple and profound: to balance my ears and rediscover the joy of hearing through bilateral cochlear implants.
The snowstorm postponed my mapping appointment, but it also gave me something unexpected: time. Time to look back at the last six weeks and notice how much has changed—and in ways I didn’t fully recognize without reflection.
Activation day marked the beginning of my second cochlear implant journey—bilateral! Spoiler alert- it didn't sound good----yet! With preserved low-frequency hearing and amazement for the brain’s ability to adapt, I reflect on the unfamiliar sounds, the emotions that surfaced, and the confidence that comes from knowing this process is a marathon I’ve successfully run before.
“The first CI is life-changing. The second CI is pure joy.” Friday I begin that joy-filled marathon as I step into the bilateral CI world—ready for new sounds, new possibilities, and a brand-new chapter of hearing.
It’s now less than a month away from surgery day—another milestone in my cochlear implant journey. As I reflect on my first surgery six years ago, I’m reminded that resilience isn’t just about bouncing back. It’s about bouncing forward—growing stronger, wiser, and more grounded through change. Inspired by Valorie Burton’s Rules of Resilience, I’m focusing on my vision: embracing the gift of my second cochlear implant and expanding my connection to the sounds and people that give life meaning. How are you learning to bounce forward in your own journey?
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