
How a person understand and interpret speech is an extremely complex process involving the synaptic responses to the physics of sound, neural activity in the nervous system and brain, and ultimately the processing of those neural impulses in various regions of our brain.
Scientists have started mapping those regions of our brains by watching what happens inside the brain through MRI, PET or other means of scanning technology. Also, people who have had damage to their brains have helped us gaining more understanding about which parts of our brains does what.
Speech and language, meaning the vocal transfer of meanings, feelings, ideas, ideologies, experiences and everything else human beings exchange and communicate, are processed through various parts of our brain.
Some of the components of speech and language processing in our brains are about (I’m sure there are many, many more, each specializing in it’s own incredible way!)
1. acoustic processing
2. visual processing for lip reading
3. phonology
4. semantic processing (vocabulary)
5. short- and long term memory (previous context, experience, reference)
6. visuoauditory, meaning that the brain both processes and somehow merges each individual sensory input (bisensory – vision and hearing); keep in mind, we don’t fully understand everything about our brains functions yet.
7. contextual processing
8. “alternative contextual qualified guessing” (you might also call it fantasy
) when all other understanding strategies fails, it’s the last attempt of understanding, and results in either a question, embarrassment or success
OK, that was the crash course in what we know about how our brains processes speech in a oversimplified manner.
Taking that info into account, think about what happens if the signals changes radically? What happens when a hearing-aid user, de facto deaf (unable to comprehend speech without the sensory aid of hearing aids, or contextual aid of sign language, lip reading or written text), is fitted with a CI or two?
In my case: what happens when I have suffered from “recruitment” while using my hearing aids for many years, and then suddenly both the recruitment is gone, AND the perceived frequencies have shifted totally out of it’s previously normal neural pathways starting with the hair cells in my cochlea.
My implant feeds electronic impulses to the part of my cochlea array of left-for-dead, broken hair-cells, while the previously still somewhat functional part now is left abandoned, not receiving any kind of stimuli anymore. (it’s like playing a piano on the octaves situated on the far left side for your whole life, and suddenly someone moves the entire piano so that you now sit on the far right!)
Well, obviously my brain has some work to do! The rewiring of the neural pathways are one thing, and the brains processing are another. I believe we can agree that the neural rewiring both in our nervous system, and in our brains (which I agree, is in fact part of our nervous system) is about new synaptic paths forming, adjusting our nervous system to the new sensory reality.
But what about the brains’ processing of these sensory inputs? The part of my brain that performs acoustic processing adjusts to the change in frequencies, the new auditory virtual reality slowly becomes THE reality, due to the lack of, and loss of the old auditory reality.
The phonology of all words have changed, how does my brain cope with that? Rewiring, relearning.
The short-term memory function now has to deal with input data that are totally new in appearance. It doesn’t sound like before. A streetcar doesn’t sound like a streetcar. A woman in high heels sound like a carpenter hammering down a nail. A kid laughing sounds like an animal dying. A kid crying sadly sounds like a anger fit.
Do you see where I’m getting at? The change in the quality of the sound perceived, also changes the contextual package, ie. what my brain interpret that specific sound to be, also decides my initial contextual and sometimes emotional processing. So now my contextual database also has to be reprogrammed.
The long term memory databank contains data that are now invalid. My mothers voice doesn’t match her voiceprint in my brain. All the people I have learned to identify by their speech patterns (how they pause, how they etc) now needs to be reprogrammed. It’s like having to change your entire music collection of vinyl to low quality compressed digital music (like computerized music in the MP3 format).
I will forget the old information, and fill it up with the new. All as the “Borgs” in Star Trek says: “You will be assimilated.”
If the part of my brain that does the acoustic processing changes it’s algorithms, I assume it’s fair to expect a change in the output from that process, consequently leading to the fact that the part of my brain that is the recipient of of the processed audio, now being “re-digitalized”, also have to change THEIR algorithms!
In that way, my entire language system is presently under a complete and heavy and thorough modification.
I have noticed this in the following ways:
I can “hear” better, but I have problems remembering the first part of the sentence that I hear, OR I only perceive the first part, my brain skips the last part of a sentence. I deduct from this “brain rewiring hypothesis”, that my short-term memory is having trouble storing the strange sounding words in it’s flash memory. The input data kind of doesn’t fit properly.
The other parts of my language system also sometimes suffer from overload or fault, causing a crash. Like when ambient noise occurs, and the voice I listen to drowns in that noise, my contextual and visual processing brain part needs to take over, but since I have been so focused on the auditory processing (due to the new and strange sounding quality), the take-over comes just a little bit too slow to be able to follow the person talking…
Think of this last paragraph like trying to follow an intricate discussion about a complex issue while having two or three kids climbing all over you, demanding attention. Sometimes they DO get your attention, and what happens then with the discussion you were following?
That’s when my “alternative contextual qualified guessing” kicks into gear
And this time I won’t even get into the emotional and psychological aspect of this brain-rewiring process that I’m currently undergoing…
I think each and every one of you who reads this can imagine the psychological and emotional implications for yourself.
Some things are best left unsaid?




Whew! I was right in the middle of the process of writing a new post when it hit me: I woke up Sunday morning, and had severe vertigo and nausea. I had trouble getting to the bathroom, and when I got there I was so sick I had to puke. It took a few hours before I realized that it could be connected to the implant, and that it would be a smart move to call the hospital. Once thought, action was made. They wanted me to come in for a checkup, and when I got there, I was immediately admitted for observation and tests.
They had added enhanced ability to control the width of the sound waves produced by the Harmony processor. The software has two automatic settings, and as an extra feature, the possibility to manually manipulate these values. In short it is about how much energy that the sound waves deliver. The amount of energy is calculated by a simple (very simplified) formula: “Total amount of Energy” = “Sound wave width” x “Sound wave height”. This is sound physics ABC.
On the way home, in my car, with the music blaring helped by my subwoofer, I listened to my “control”-music, and could actually pick up a few bass-guitar sequences for the first time! That was good
The first thing was that since I got my CI, I am, of course, still tired from the strain of learning to hear again. (I’m working regularly every day at improving my hearing skills!) BUT, having this throat-infection was a revelation to me. Before CI, I’d be out of play, so to speak, ready for decommission, not having enough strength to do much more than just cope with everyday chores like making food and taking care of my own basic needs. This time I felt as if my tiredness was different. It wasn’t so all-consuming and forcing me into life-support mode. It was as if my brain got enough oxygen this time, compared to before CI where my cognitive skills took a severe hit when suffering very mild conditions like infectious throats or other normal mild seasonal illnesses.
Oh, and this other thing I experienced: while in my car, hearing aid taken out of my other ear, relying only on my CI, I turned on my car-stereo and increased the sound level including the sub-woofer which has it’s own volume control. I listened to the music for some time, receiving the deepest end of bass sounds in my non-implanted ear (which is the only sound that ear is able to perceive these days) and all the other sounds in my implanted ear. Not too bad to listen to, actually


* I have engaged in an audio book; “The Pillars of the Earth” by Ken Follett, in English. I had read a few pages before I put on the audio book, and tried from the beginning at first. That went really well. I then wanted to fast forward to where I was, and tried the next audio-file. I had to listen for cues, and I FOUND the corresponding text! Not only did I do it just one time, but THREE times! 
I hear trickling and splashing water from fountains very good, and I have noticed a significant “sound shadow” if I turn the non-CI-ear towards the sound source. In that “Sound-shadow” the sound disappears almost completely.
Yesterday I heard a bird twitter for the first time! (I probably have a recollection of that sound from early childhood, because I had strong suspicions what that super clearly defined sound was
The subwoofer taught me a valuable lesson: I can “hear” the bass through my body. My hearing aid-ear (with the hearing aid turned off, and earpiece blocking the natural airway into the ear canal and the ear drum) actually used the bass-vibrations I got from the subwoofer and blend it in with the sounds I got from the CI. I suspect my whole body “hears” those thumps and “phat” beats. It’s also the issue of bone transferred vibrations to take into considerations
In all fairness to Mötley Crüe; it is a coincidence that I happened to have their music on both my mobile phone and on mp3 in my car. It’s simple, energetic music and with Vince Neil’s rather boyish voice that breaks through the sound wall from the instruments is perfect for me to train my bionic hearing on. Will keep working with Mötley Crüe for listening training until I get sick of the songs. They have been, and will always be a big part of my musical life.
All sounds are very thin, high pitchy. That is due to the fact that my hearing residue before the operation all were located in the innermost curves of my cochlea. (from 1500 Hz to 200 Hz in the diagram on the left) That’s where the bass is. The entire frequency range that my hearing aids could amplify, and the vibrations the hair cells were able to pick up, were dealt with by the hair cells in that that innermost curve. (Because of the limited number of remaining hair cells in the outermost areas, I experienced recruitment.)
More than 4 long years after the neurons (picture on the left) in my brain formed the thought of getting a Cochlear Implant for the first time, I’m finally here. At the doorstep of a new reality. A new perception of the world of sounds promising improved social interaction and perhaps even music.
Related to my condition; I went through 2 years of psychological therapy, countless visits at the hospital asking about when I could get the operation done (nagging), I said goodbye to my beloved music, I went through many life changing decisions, all in order to survive and maintain a life in order to be able to father my son the best I could and to remain sane, healthy and alive.
A new chapter in my life begins the day after tomorrow. I owe the ones that are next in line for CI, wherever they might be, to be able to access my experiences both good and bad, just as I have been able to read about




Post-surgery I’ve had attacks of tinnitus on my operated right ear. These attacks have been unbelievably disturbing and loud. The first time I had an episode, I was downright scared! It was in the middle of the night, at around 2 am. Darkness all around me. I was lying still, still aching from the surgery wound behind my ear. I was horrified by this new experience. My heartbeat raced and adrenalin-levels rose… The tinnitus turned on very quickly, and felt like if somebody thrust a screwdriver right into my ear (except for the obvious pain that I would have felt if that was the case). It literally screamed sound, no, it was even louder, it was so loud it was on the verge of being painful! And that is LOUD!
After the first attack, which left me more or less sleepless that night, I’ve had several more attacks. I’m a little less scared, because I know the attacks will stop after a while, but it’s still as intense!
Then we went to see the surgeon for a final checkup before heading home. No problem there, everything looked just fine.