9780618717606

After Michael Chorost suddenly lost what was left of his hearing, he took the radical step of having a cochlear implant -- a tiny computer -- installed in his head. A technological marvel, the device not only restored to him the world of sound but also could be routinely upgraded with new software. Despite his intitial fear of the technology's potentially dehumanizing effects, Chorost's implant allowed him to connect with others in surprising ways: as a cyborg, he learned about love, joined a writing group, and formed deeper friendships. More profoundly, his perception of the world around him was dramatically altered. Brimming with insight and written with charm and self-deprecating humor, Rebuilt unveils, in personal terms, the astounding possibilities of a new technological age.

TERM	PRICE	DUE
SEMESTER	$11.05	Aug 02
QUARTER	$10.49	Jul 19
SHORT TERM	$10.00	Jun 21

Michael Chorost has a B.A. from Brown University and a Ph.D. from the University of Texas at Austin. He lives in San Francisco, where he writes, teaches, and consults.

Broken

1

(22)

Surgery

23

(16)

Between Two Worlds

39

(10)

Activation

49

(18)

Forget About Reality

67

(13)

The Computer Reprograms Me

80

(22)

Upgrading

102

(15)

The Logic I Loved and Hated

117

(28)

A Kinship with the Machines

145

(13)

A Kinship with the Humans

158

(13)

The Technologies of Human Potential

171

(13)

Mike 2.0

184

(15)

Appendix: 1,113,636 Bits per Second

199

(10)

Notes

209

(8)

Bibliography

217

(5)

Acknowledgments

222

(3)

Index

225

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1. Broken I'm impatient. It hasn't been a good morning. I'm on a business trip and have just arrived in Reno, where I'm supposed to interview people at Tahoe for a study. But the car rental at the airport won't take my debit card. I spend half an hour canvassing the other outlets, no luck. Finally a man at one counter kindly names a competitor and points me to a courtesy phone. "Dial 133. They usually have cars and their rates are okay." I pick up the phone. I can hear it fine with my hearing aids, even amid the ruckus of the baggage claim. Yes, they have cars available. The voice directs me to the shuttle bus outside the airport. It's the last telephone call I will ever make with my natural ears. Paperwork signed, I wait for my car. I fidget. I might as well have driven here instead of flying. And then - That's odd. The traffic sounds fuzzy all of a sudden. Instead of their usual decisive vrump, the cars have started making a whispery sound as they go by, as if plowing through shredded paper. And they sound a hundred yards away, even though I'm right by the road. It sounds like my left hearing aid's battery is going. Even though I'm wearing two hearing aids, only the left ear really counts. The right ear is so poor that it can hear only vague rumbles. My left ear is my conversation ear, my telephone ear, my radio ear. I switch batteries in a practiced little pas de deux of the hands: left battery into the right aid, right battery into the left. That doesn't make any difference. I guess they're both going. I pull out a battery pack from my suitcase, do a second changeout, and wait for the familiar rush of clean, loud sound. But it doesn't happen. I can't have two broken hearing aids at once. It's as absurd as two tires blowing out at the same time. As I get in the car I'm breathing shallowly, and it's not because of the altitude. I roll the car window down, fiddle with my left hearing aid's volume control, and wait for my ears to miraculously clear. All the way up to Tahoe, I'm monitoring on all frequencies, and - this doesn't sound right. Gotta be the batteries. It's just a pack of bad batteries. At the hotel I check in, then go to the Long's drugstore and buy three sets of 675s. It costs me fifteen dollars and thirty-seven cents. Right there at the checkout counter, I rip the batteries out of their plastic case and put them in. That doesn't help either. In the car I spread both hearing aids out on the passenger seat and methodically try every possible combination of tubes, batteries, and earmolds. Nothing works: the day is like a coin that always comes up tails. "It's got to be earwax," I say to myself out loud, looking out the windshield at the big red-and-white logo of the store. I've got to get someone to check my left ear for earwax. Maybe the clerk at the hotel? She had proved to be a lissome woman with blond hair layered over black, whose full lips pouted as her hands explored a keyboard I couldn't see. Maybe she would also take me into her arms and tell me that everything would be all right. Now that would be customer service. I've never had earwax trouble in my life. But I've also never had two hearing aids fail on me at once, either. Emergency room. Now. The ER is quiet, so while waiting for the doctor I conduct an impromptu interview with the nurse. The study is on the region's social problems, and I might as well start collecting data. The nurse is a fount of information. But as she talks, a chilly realization takes hold of me. "Nan

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Rebuilt : My Journey Back to the Hearing World

Rebuilt : My Journey Back to the Hearing World

0618717609

Summary

Author Biography

Table of Contents

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