Sunday, November 07, 1999
Cochlear implants allow deaf woman to experience sounds
BY DEBORAH KENDRICK
Enquirer contributor
When Beverly Biderman was 12 years old, she was essentially “expelled” from music class because she couldn't hear. The do-re-mi of the scale sounded like identical tones to her, and a “well-meaning” principal concluded that music was too difficult. The remainder of her music classes were spent sitting outside the principal's office.
Born with a progressive hearing loss, and diagnosed as profoundly deaf at age 12, the Canadian author spent more than 40 years perfecting a “trick” of reading lips, guessing, bluffing, pretending to hear in a world nearly void of sound. She wore the strongest hearing aids money could buy, instruments that blasted her eardrums with sound, and still, the songs of birds, the experience of the radio and the sound of a friend's laughter were unknown to her.
Her achievements as wife, mother and computing professional at the University of Toronto show her deafness was no insurmountable barrier. In 1980, however, when she learned of the new technology called cochlear implant, she traveled from Toronto to the Los Angeles House Ear Clinic to be evaluated.
The technology was still in its infancy then — with one single electrode leading to the cochlea — and she was pronounced a poor candidate. Her deafness was too severe, she was told, and her auditory memory probably too distant for the artificial hearing device to work. By 1993, howev er, the technology had matured sufficiently for her to take a chance.
Wired for Sound: A Journey Into Hearing (Trifolium Books, $21.95) is the compelling story of her journey from deafness into sound, and it is a book worth reading for everyone who wants to know more about deafness, more about cochlear implants and more about what those of us who “hear” take for granted every minute of our lives. It is not a book about instant miracles, but about technology blended with hard work, perseverance, and determination.
Interviewing Beverly Biderman, it seems ironic that one who has been deaf most of her life has such a musical voice. Indeed, music is one of the discoveries that meant the most to her.
“I am still deaf,” she explains, “but I have learned to hear with my cochlear implant.” What she hears is a series of buzzes, beeps, whistles, and bells that she has learned to interpret as sound. The highs and lows of that learning process are poignantly recounted in Wired for Sound as we experience with her the initial horror of Donald Duck voices and inexplicable racket, and later, “sound hunts” leading to the joy of hearing birds, a friend's guitar, and buying her first radio with headset.
After answering hundreds of questions about her cochlear implant (there were only about 20,000 cases worldwide when her surgery was performed), Ms. Biderman initially intended to write a book about the prosthetic device. As the book grew, she realized she was writing about deafness — exploring it fully for the first time in her life.
Imagine being a teen-age girl who can't hear on the telephone. She recalls the humiliation of having to use her mother as intermediary to talk to boys and make dates. As an adult, she says, if she wanted to have lunch with a friend, she relied on her husband to make the call.
Despite low expectations for the amount of progress she would make with her implant, Ms. Biderman was finally able to use the telephone at the end of the first year. Now, she uses it every day.
“The phone is very symbolic to those of us who are deaf,” she says. “It represents how we are shut out, the things we cannot do because we cannot hear.”
The most remarkable sound to date, however, is the warmth and emotion she now hears in human voices. “The first time I realized I could hear speech without lip-reading,” she recalls, “I was in a store, looking down at my wallet, when I heard the clerk say brightly, "Have a nice day!' It was a wonderful sound. It melted me.”
Wired for Sound was named an outstanding book of 1999 by the American Library Association. It can be ordered through local bookstores.
Cincinnati writer Deborah Kendrick is a nationally recognized advocate for people with disabilities. Write her at Cincinnati Enquirer, Tempo, 312 Elm St., Cincinnati 45202. E-mail:dkendrick@enquirer.com.
&ABOUT COCHLEAR IMPLANTS
;
Surgeon's invention could help thousands
CardioClasp may help biomedicals
Project Succeed loses funds
Turnout of voters baffling
GOP majority on city council: fading mirage
How to make everyone vote
Reece worked hard for council victory
Teen Court wins accolades
Does your dog need services of a lawyer?
Boater charged in fatal collision
Put money in The Banks
'Titanic' disaster inspires Broadway musical
At century's end, 'modern music' comes into play
CDs capture 20th century
Defining categories of modern music
Where to hear 20th-century locally
Blessid Union, 98` pitch in on Pokemon
'Cute' sculptures are dignified art
DTC soldiers on despite losses, cuts
Enter our Dress A Turkey contest
GET TO IT
Getting on with the goetta guy
'Godot' excellent, electrifying
'Harmonium' composer leads stirring premiere of choral masterpiece
DANCE REVIEW
Know-nothing' dad picks up a few gems from teens
Miniaturized mural on sale
Moms launch Ky. Montessori
Anti-Lucas radio spots embarrass GOP again
Devou Park is defended despite death
District celebrates American Education Month
Patton: More popular in N. Ky.
Protesters in wheelchairs hauled away from state offices
Tons of trash cleared from river banks
TRISTATE DIGEST
Unlikely bamboo crop thrives on Morrow farm
Unused guns still net prison time for 2
