Finding What was Already There

Yesterday, I had a conversation that I've been thinking about since. I ran into an old friend at a church meeting. She's been following my story and asked how I've been doing. I gave her what was probably kind of a boring answer. And then she said, "So, is it bizarre to hear new sounds?" It's a natural question, with the underlying assumption being that new sounds picked up by my implant must be unfamiliar and out of the limited context of my hearing-aided world.

The response that I gave her was that no, nothing is bizarre or even unfamiliar.  "It was always there. The sounds were always there. Nothing is unfamiliar." And then I choked up a little bit thinking about the significance of that. She was very kind, but I was surprised at the emotion that her question triggered.

When I hear a new sound, say the "s" sound in speech or the beeping of my slow cooker timer or the rustling of leaves in a tree, it is familiar. I don't mean that they are immediately recognizable, because quite often, I have had to ask William what a sound is. But once the sound is identified, I'm not surprised at how it sounds. My reaction is more like, "Oh, yes. That's what I thought the rustling of leaves should sound like. Now I know for sure."

Maybe that's part of the miracle: sounds that should have been foreign to me are not. In truly hearing for the first time, there is recognition. I really feel that I am finding in me a capacity that was always there and meant to be tapped into. My brain and ears just needed a little outside help in finding what was already there.