Dylan Part 3

We called Dylan's new hearing aids his "magic ears". They were behind-the-ear models with digital volume control which were perfect for young children. As intimidating as it was to learn how to care for the aids, that first set was a miracle for us.

Over a period of two weeks, the audiologist progressively adjusted the volume of the aids until they were at the proper level. The change in Dylan was immediate and profound. I remember baking cookies one day and as I dragged the kitchen chair across the floor, the sound of it caused Dylan to violently jump away in fright. Another morning, we were weeding the flower bed in the back yard. All of the sudden, a bird started chirping and Dylan froze, turned his head toward the tree and pointed. I said, "That's a bird. A bird." It was the first time that he had heard a sound at that high a frequency. Then one night before bed, I gave him a small glass of water. "Fankoo", he said. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. He had never said it that clearly before. Within six months, Dylan was speaking in complete, complex sentences and he became much more settled in his demeanor. I can only imagine what it had been like to not have been able to make himself understood.

He had several years of speech therapy and today, he speaks like any other eleven year old. In the early years, many of his classmates went home to their parents begging for "magic ears". He has graduated to in-the-canal hearing aids and until recently, he avoided football not because of the bulk of the aids under the helmet but because he wanted to go through his life without any broken bones. He is on the honour roll, has a group of friends and rarely does the subject of his disability come up. Now that I have several years of perspective on the whole situation, I see his hearing loss as a blessing. I know that sounds queer but Dylan has compensated for his disability in a number of remarkable ways.

He has a singular focus to detail that developed during the first three years of his life when his attention was not regularly compromised by external stimuli. He is a child who read before he went to kindergarten and today, he still devours book after book. He is able to assemble complicated Leggo kits in record time and he reads lips proficiently, which is especially useful in a plethora of situations.

He is also a person that has a well developed need for a few minutes of quiet each day. In kindergarten, I was called to the school to meet with his teacher. She had noticed that when the classroom volume got to a specific point, Dylan would reach up and shut off his aids, bend his head to his work and not surface until he was finished. While she admired his focus, she found it inconvenient to gently tap him on the shoulder to get his attention. And this is what is challenging about the hearing loss.

Dylan's disability is no more significant in the big picture than a child who wears glasses with one exception. Children with hearing loss tend to go undiagnosed and thus, seeing another student with hearing aids is not as common nor as socially accepted as seeing a child with glasses. Teachers are not as familiar and while they might move a child with vision problems to the front of the classroom, they are at a loss as to how to manage their hearing impaired students. Lots of insurance plans include optical riders. The same is not true for hearing aids. I don't know of a plan that includes them as a benefit. You can find an insurance company to help you cosmetically straighten your child's teeth but ask them to help your child hear (essential for speech and learning) and they quietly flip you the bird. And hearing aids are prohibitively expensive. Dylan's first set were $1800 per ear. His second, with multiple channels and automatic static noise reduction were $2200 per ear. I am hoping that as the baby boomers age and experience the effects of their hippie, concert attending years, they will demand good quality, affordable hearing aids. Until then, we have medical savings accounts and our charge cards.

Dylan will grow up to be a better man for this challenge and I just know that somewhere down the road, science will find a way to regenerate those damaged nerves and he'll be able to throw away his hearing aids for good.