Adam's Story

Adam, a 15 year-old cochlear implant user, is the son of one of the CICircle co-founders. He received his cochlear implant when he was two years old after he became deaf from meningitis. He was raised with the Auditory-Verbal approach like me and is another cochlear implant success story who can't imagine life without sounds! Here is Adam's story:

I am 15 years old, implanted at age 2 - after suffering from meningitis.

I lead a very happy social life with a lot of friends, and all my close friends are hearing kids. I do not get bullied or made fun of at school. At school I feel like a real member of the class where I often speak up and give my opinions in class discussions.

I am always willing to try new things. With my implant I can hear a lot more than you would probably expect and being able to hear the leaves rustle and the birds singing is something that I would not be able to hear without my implant. I find it very easy to be involved when my friends and classmates are chatting. I even got into trouble in my maths class for talking too much to my friends, but I did tell my teacher that I had actually down all the work while I was talking to my friends!!!

I always wear my implant processor because it is the closest I can ever get to being able to hear “normally”. Being raised with an implant, allowed me to grow up and be a part of things like any other child. I can go to the same school as my younger brother, I can make friends at parties with people I have never met before because we use the same language. One of my favourite things is talking to my friends on my mobile phone, that is until I run of credit : - )

I can’t imagine my life and what it would be like without my cochlear implant.

Adam is also a very talented writer! Here are a few samples of his poetry:

An Ode to a Chicken

Chickie-Chickie-Chickie, so many Chickens in this world,
But there was one Chicken that everyone despised,
His name was none other than the notorious Ronald,
Whose motive was to spite everyone in sight.

Oh how he put his excellent plans into action,
The pointless pranks on the locals here,
The laying of lies and deceit onto travelers for a con,
And the odd odious crimes under the cover of night.

Nobody challenged the foul tempered Chicken,
Conspiracies, schemes and plots were planned,
But conspirers always seemed to end up in a pig’s pen,
Ronald continued at his own will and right.

Teenage mischiefs, monkey businessmen and morons,
Each and every mischief looked up to Ronald as an idol,
And the infamous chicken continued on as a don,
Till the day Ronald was caught under a wheel and snuffed his light.

Written at age 15.

The Moon’s Gift

The Moon in the night sky,
an illustrious inanimate mass.
beyond our world it lies,
with the simple beauty it has.

At times we see a gentle lunar crescent,
or a great glowing sphere.
it forever waxes and wanes without consent,
depending on what we perceive from here.

Its luminescence in the darkness,
forever inspiring peace for us.
Battered, desolate and a mess,
but always magnificent without a fuss.

The Moon is just as grateful,
as its light is almost eternal.

Written at age 15

Being Colder than War

The front of the war is terrible,
shells, bullets and grenades are unbearable

It reeks of people in the dark,
and the alive are the cause of it.
Our ruthless CO forced us to make a mark,
from which lives are dimmed.

The terrible symphony of war played the unlucky ones
the hymn of death and cursed the others. A grenade exploding is
the doing of the Grim Reaper who is the conductor.

Fortunately I had avoided the scythe and cried tears of blood at the music
but unfortunately it was not from my eyes.
It was not long before my body started screaming at me and my light began flickering.

A kind friend dragged my reddened body or what was left of it to the shed.
The medics worked over the wounded pawns of war, struggling to fix them.

From the aid station, a whirlybird carried I, ever so gently to a better place
A place away from the front but green.

Again my light flickered
But violently as I was carried away into a room where life
or death is chosen.
All the murmurs were the leaders passing sentence.

Men in white and their angels of mercy did all they could
But I was cold but glad.
The sudden chill did not bother me for I –
I had gone elsewhere, an elsewhere far better

Written at age 14.

The Three Spirits

I am a skinny built tree growing with friends as years pass by,
My oven roasted potato coloured hair spurts out like green leaves growing slowly on tips of branches.

My body strength is as strong as a meteor racing across space with all its might,
My reflexes are as sharp as a tiger’s tooth.

I like kicking soccer balls hard into the goal as waves crash hard into cliffs attempting to move rocks,
I like playing my PS2 while being as lazy as the sea currents are very calm.

No one can take my mind away as the tree will never be chopped down,
My heart and spirit will never vanish, as the meteor will never fall apart,
My life inside will never be destroyed, as the deep-sea creatures will never be caught.

Written at age 11.