BAHA. Like others I have found the aid to be particularly inconspicuous, so perhaps my introduction is suitable! Last year I finally decided to move from the care of a hospital I had been under since two years of age, (A long time!) to one more local. My first appointment with Mr. Fairley at the William Harvey Hospital in Ashford was rather overwhelming to say the least. I have had a behind the ear aid for several years and was already aware that it was not as effective as it once was, but I had grown to accept the inevitable having had hearing difficulties since childhood. My main memories of school are of being turned away from the teachers desk with "Go away Lyn, I have already explained that and you should be able to do it!". I never knew my Tables, but I knew the tune! Back to WH. He took one look at me and exclaimed "I think you'd be ideal for a BAHA.". " wot!" my expression must have said because he went on to quickly explain and then I was led to a room next door to "meet the others." I sat amongst these few people who had already been "done", hardly speaking myself, just concentrating on what they said and soaking up their enthusiasm. "You can get all sorts of attachments," said one chap "you could look like a Telly Tubbie if you want!". A Nurse approached "Fill in this questionnaire please, Lyn. It is an impression of your problems before the operation." I filled it in as best as I could. I hadn't really sat down and analysed how my hearing difficulty affected me, I had just got on with it. Some questions were not possible to answer as I could not compare my present state to before I had any problem. All I knew was that when, at my old hospital, I asked if I was deaf enough enough for a hearing aid the response was "Oh, yeah do you want one?"! At the time it was the best thing that had happened.
Now faced with the decision of having a BAHA I couldn't imagine it would be any more effective or have as much impact. I couldn't be sure that I could accept living with a bolt in my head. Not because of appearance, but the thought of it did turn my stomach. I agreed to go on the waiting list with the option of leaping off the table at the last minute. By the time March, the date of the op, came round I had convinced myself that it should be worth having and, very nervously, went in to the day surgery unit accompanied by my husband. I had opted for a general anaesthetic, as I have a back problem I felt I would not be able to lay still for the time needed. My ten year old son was particularly in awe of the forthcoming procedure and between him and his father they had decided to nickname me. 7. After 7 of 9 the rescued borg, in Star Trek Voyager. My daughter, at 3 years, is too young to comprehend and so to her it is my "magic ear". I don't think the cat is bothered one way or the other so long as I feed her!
The only problem I had post op' was with sickness and dizziness. I have a rather delicate balance, I even fall over in cinemas! I am now convinced that the surgery brought on an attack of Vertigo (of the non- Hitchcock kind!). I was fine after a night in hospital and IM anti- emetics. I was discharged with the obligatory bright blue gauze stuck to the left side of my head. Three days later I was able to enjoy a day at Lego Land. I took the role of photographer and pottered gently round after the others. I wore a rather wonderful head scarf leant to me by my Mother, if people looked it was because of its magnificence!
Thursday 10th. June 1999. Though it was considered early I had healed so well it was decided that Andrew could do the honours and fit the aid. My husband, Keith was shown how to fit the plastic insert which would hold the aid in place. At this point I did feel a bit like an old engine which two lads were having a go at fixing! This is in no way detrimental to the way Andrew dealt with me, he was the perfect gentleman! Then came the big moment......"Well, there is a lot of buzzing." "oops, I've fitted the demo model, sorry, it's getting a bit worn out." "It sounds a bit echoey."........"Try taking out your old aid." Well, we got there in the end. From hearing only what was said between ourselves in the room I was suddenly swamped with new sounds which appeared from nowhere! A shutter being opened/closed in another room, footsteps outside the door, voices clear, though not understood, from outside and next door. My voice was distorted, I was picking up a "Sch" sound at the beginning of words as I spoke. (This did wear of over the next few days as my brain adjusted.) Andrew proceeded to draw a diagram to represent the difference between the old aid and the BAHA. As he drew on the board the pen was squeaking! With a silly grin on my face I was let loose to play with my new toy. The sounds initially had a surreal quality about them, they bore no relation to what I was seeing. Having only been aware of sounds no further than a few feet away, I could now hear conversation clearly at 15 feet! If sound were colours I would describe the BAHA to be a professional artists paint box with ten shades per colour, the old aid was a childrens paint box with no more than three shades per colour. Over a couple of weeks I continued to wear both aids. Having a young child meant it was pure masochism to wear the BAHA during a full blown tantrum. Or even if she were shrieking with delight! I also have young children next door. So I would switch between them and found that I was gradually using the BAHA more as my other aid's ineffectiveness became more highlighted. I rapidly got "tuned in" with the BAHA, though at the beginning I thought it would take me weeks. I fact as I switched between the two I was unconsciously turning up the volume of my old one. On the 14th. June I was hanging out the washing and became aware of being able to hear one bird amongst the others singing a different song. Switching back to my old aid I lost him. It was thrilling. My neighbours laughed as I ran off from our chat to answer the phone. They were used to saying "Your phones ringing". I compare to slipping in the BAHA first thing in the morning to putting in earings. I have shown my son how to do it in case I have an off day and can't hit the target.It pleased him to be involved too.
Hygiene wise it is simple. I wash my hair in the shower and use a soft baby tooth brush to gently scrub around the abutment with antibacterial body wash. I give it a good blast by turning the shower head to get the fast flow to rinse it. I then use a cotton bud to gently wipe round it. My husband checks it regularily for signs of any inflammation. So far I have not had any problems, though the scar is still a little tender. That will go in time. I miss the T switch with the phone, my cordless phone won't work on the microphone of the BAHA. But I have a phone up stairs with an amplifier. If I have a problem understanding someone I explain and go upstairs to continue the conversation. It is not inconvenient, if I turn off the BAHA I can usually hear enough through my "good" ear. Last week I had my first post aid check up. I was amazed to hear music in the waiting area. Andrew said it has been there for about two years! I was also thrilled to be able to see Star Wars at the cinema without turning off my aid, which I would have had to do in the past. I took great joy in picking out sounds I would not have heard before, a bit like eating somewhere exotic, it added to the atmosphere of the film. Also I didn't have to keep asking my husband "what did they say?" So I had better tie up this e-mail before the computer crashes and I lose the lot! Our computer and I do not see eye to eye all the time. If you have a BAHA, Peace be with you. If you are considering, I hope that what I have written will give you a fair idea of what to expect, and help you to come to the best decision for you.
Sincerely,
Lyn Kolsteren.
