“Did they turn them on yet?” she whispered, almost too softly for him to hear.
He nodded and looked back as Annie started talking to Parker again. He’d been fussy with all the waiting as the hearing aids were adjusted in size and inserted into his ears. This time he quieted down the more she spoke. His eyes widened, and a tiny smile played across his lips. What was going on? Too bad they couldn’t read his mind.
“I don’t think they’re doing anything,” his brother said, his arms crossed. “Does that mean we move to the implants?”
When Harrison spoke, the little boy raised his eyes, and the smile grew even bigger. His chubby little hands bobbed up and down.
“Keep going, bro,” Blake said softly. “I think he can hear you.”
“It’s possible,” Dr. Crane answered. “Dad’s voice is at a lower frequency than Mom’s. Why don’t you both take turns talking to him and see what happens?”
Harrison frowned again. “You go first.” And he walked toward Blake.
Carli tipped her head and took a seat near Annie, who was chatting quietly to the child.
“This is bull,” Harrison growled, his voice low. “These things aren’t going to make him hear like a regular kid. Why can’t we just get the implants now?”
Blake shook his head. “They have protocols for this.”
“Yeah, but six months trying these hearing aids? What kind of crap is that? They either work or they don’t. I don’t see him suddenly understanding what we’re saying.”
“He’s only six months old. It’s not like he’s heard any language before, so nothing you say will be recognizable, and babies at that age can’t tell you if they understand or not. I’m a pediatrician. I kind of do child development for a living.”
“As a pediatrician at this hospital, can’t you bypass some of these stupid protocols and get Parker on the implant list?”
“The rules are there for a reason, Harrison. You wouldn’t let any product Wentworth Industries makes leave the building until it went through rigorous quality control, would you? And don’t answer that because I know you wouldn’t. I’ve heard you and Dad talk about it enough that it’s ingrained in me.”
“What do I tell Mom and Dad when they see his hearing aids? Mom already bought him some toys that make all sorts of noise, figuring he’d love it once he got the implants.”
“With implants, the music might not sound the same. Carli says it can be very mechanical at times. Supposedly, hearing aids amplify the sound the way it is, while CIs send the sound signals right to the brain. But the brain can interpret the noise differently.”
His brother remained quiet, watching his wife and son as Annie cooed and babbled to Parker, and Dr. Crane fiddled with her equipment. The tension in Harrison’s jaw let Blake know how stressed he was, but the love shining in his eyes for his wife and child was apparent. If there was anything he could do for his family, he’d do it. Blake didn’t like not having control either, yet in medicine that wasn’t always possible. God sometimes had other plans.
“How are we doing?” Dr. Verani asked from the doorway.
“Hearing aids,” Harrison grunted. “I thought you said implants were the way to go.”
“Yes, yes, they’re the best technology out there. But we do need to follow certain procedures first.”
“And what happens if Parker’s hearing aids work?”
Dr. Verani studied the interaction of Carli, Annie, Parker, and Dr. Crane, then bobbed his head. “With a child who has moderate to severe hearing loss, they might help a bit, however they’ll never be able to hear all the frequencies. CIs are the best solution.”
“So as long as Parker’s hearing isn’t perfect with the hearing aids, he’ll be able to get implants?”
Verani nodded. “Absolutely. But we do need to use the hearing aids for six months first. Protocol, you understand. Then, we’ll do another audiogram with them and schedule the surgery.”
Harrison’s sigh rang through the room, and Annie glanced up, waving him over. Now that he had Dr. Verani’s assurance that cochlear implants would be approved, the stress seemed to lessen. The two men approached the child while Blake stayed near the door.
Ambling over, Carli stood next to him.
“Exciting day for Parker, huh?”
“Sure,” Blake said. “What do you think? Is he actually hearing anything or merely responding to their faces?”
“I remember when my little sister, Deanna, got her first hearing aid. She was two and I was four. She cried when they were putting them in, but once they got turned on, her tears dried up. She sat there, still, for a few minutes as my brother Brian—he’s the hearing one—spoke to her. Her eyes were as wide as Parker’s were a few minutes ago.”
“You think he’s hearing pretty well right now?”
