麻豆影院

Michelle Galetti had good reason to leave college. She chose to stay.聽

Michelle Galetti (TAM鈥�20) was about halfway into a three-week backpacking trip in Washington State when it happened. Hiking down a mountainside in a heavy rain, just below the tree line, her hearing cut out.

鈥淎ll of a sudden, the raindrops 鈥� I couldn鈥檛 hear them anymore,鈥� she said of the summer 2018 episode, shortly before the start of her junior year at CU 麻豆影院.

A stream rushed along nearby, totally silent to her.

鈥淚 started stomping on sticks to see if I could hear them break,鈥� said Michelle.

She could not. 鈥淚 couldn鈥檛 hear myself breathe,鈥� she said.

In the weeks ahead, her hearing came and went, typically for periods of 30 to 60 minutes. Eventually it was happening daily. She developed vertigo. Doctors at home in Seattle offered theories, but could not explain it or fix it.

Michelle returned to 麻豆影院, where she continued consulting doctors. She didn鈥檛 know when things might get better. One September morning they got much worse.

She was getting ready for the day in her off-campus apartment when, at 7:45 a.m., the sound went out and didn鈥檛 come back.

The technology, arts and media (TAM) major and teaching assistant was scheduled to lead a web-design lab at 9:30.

鈥淪he said, 鈥業 guess I'll go to class and just do this,鈥欌�� said her mother, Beth Galetti, who was visiting.

Michelle addressed the students. 鈥淔ace me,鈥� she said.

She would try to read lips.

Adapting

Michelle briefly considered leaving school, but she chose to stay. Otherwise, 鈥淚t would have given me too much time to think about what I鈥檇 lost, and not enough time to figure out what I can still do,鈥� she said. 鈥淲hich I鈥檓 finding out every day is still a lot.鈥�

With the help of her mother and stepfather, Jeff VanLaningham, who, taking turns, spent months in 麻豆影院 helping her adjust, Michelle embarked on a new life.

She replaced her alarm clock with a device called 鈥渢he sonic bomb鈥� that woke her by vibrating her mattress. She identified friends and, eventually, professional captioners, who could supplement her class notes, in case she鈥檇 missed something. She and her CU equestrian teammates devised a聽series of hand signals so she could get commands during competitions. And she began intensive lip-reading and vocalization exercises.

Without constant sonic feedback, humans鈥� ability to speak devolves quickly. Michelle spent hours a day with her hand pressed to her mother鈥檚 throat, feeling and mimicking the vibrations unique to each word as her mother spoke them.

鈥淚t took a little while for me to get comfortable speaking in class,鈥� Michelle said. 鈥淎 lot of people didn鈥檛 understand why I spoke with my hand on my throat.鈥�

There have been frustrations, indignities and fears. Lip-reading is exhausting in the best circumstances; when fellow students mumble during group presentations, it鈥檚 impossible. Airline employees, unaware Michelle can鈥檛 hear announcements, scold her for boarding with the wrong group. In the absence of sound, darkness carries a new sense of menace.

Group conversation, with its frequent and sudden changes of speaker, is hard to follow. Michelle misses a lot of jokes.

But some inconveniences have revealed an upside. Calling from one room to another at home is pointless, for instance, so she has more face-to-face encounters with friends and family.

And many people have been reflexively supportive, including professors in CU鈥檚 ATLAS Institute who began adding closed captions to old videos and classmates who, especially in the scary early days, went out of their way to be present with her, there to help as she navigates a silent world.

And there have been unexpected moments of pleasure.

鈥淥ne of her favorite things to do was to blare music in the car so that she could feel the vibrations in the speakers, and try to guess the song,鈥� said Beth Galetti. 鈥淪he was remarkably good at it.鈥�

That first soundless semester, and the next, Michelle took a full course load. She earned a 4.0 grade point average twice.

鈥淎nything鈥檚 possible,鈥� she said.

History

Hearing trouble was not entirely new for Michelle, now 21. Since childhood, she鈥檇 been unable to detect high-frequency sounds 鈥� s, h and f sounds, for example 鈥� and she began using hearing aids regularly in high school.

But outside the high frequencies, she could hear clearly. The doctors she and her family consulted told her 鈥渢here鈥檚 zero percent chance that you will ever go deaf,鈥� she said.

After she did, new information came to light. Hearing kept her paternal grandfather out of the Air Force, and a paternal great aunt went totally deaf at 22.

Michelle鈥檚 biological father, Matt Galetti, died when she was a toddler. He鈥檇 never had reason, or perhaps time, to mention these details, if he even knew them. Michelle鈥檚 mom wasn鈥檛 aware of them until news of her hearing loss began circulating.

With the new information, the Galettis shifted their thinking away from a presumed neurological cause.

鈥淭here鈥檚 got to be something genetic,鈥� Michelle said, 鈥渂ecause this doesn鈥檛 just happen.鈥�

She took a battery of genetic tests and forged ahead with her life as she awaited the results. She joined CU鈥檚 equestrian team and took part-time jobs with a technology startup. She got a puppy, a Basenji she named Kaila. She went on adventures with her boyfriend, Aaron.

In March of 2019, after six months of total deafness, while doing homework at the home of Aaron鈥檚 family, a crackling she鈥檇 felt in her ears for 36 hours suddenly stopped. She set her pencil down. It hit the table 鈥渒ind of loud,鈥� she thought. 鈥淚鈥檓 probably just hallucinating.鈥�

She asked Aaron to clap in her ear.

鈥淚 was like, 鈥榃ow, not so loud!鈥欌��

He said, 鈥淢ichelle, do you realize what you just said?鈥�

It was sound, and it was a jubilant moment. But at first, everything was painfully loud, and Michelle soon realized that true hearing hadn鈥檛 really come back. She could detect sound, but not words.

鈥淓verything still sounds like a mumble,鈥� she said months later, 鈥渁 hum.鈥�

When the results of the genetic tests came in last summer, they revealed a mutation in a gene called ATP2B2, sometimes called a 鈥渄eafness gene鈥� for its role in some types of hearing loss.

Knowing this offered some relief, she said: 鈥淚鈥檓 not so alone in the situation 补苍测尘辞谤别.鈥� But she doesn鈥檛 expect much to come of it. There鈥檚 no associated treatment.

She鈥檚 at peace with that.

鈥淚 can live any way now,鈥� she said, hearing or totally deaf or someplace between. 鈥淚t鈥檚 not something I鈥檓 scared of 补苍测尘辞谤别.鈥�

The Jacket

A few months into Michelle鈥檚 ordeal, she decided she would use her remaining time at CU to develop a product that would give deaf people an experience of music.

Working with Daniel Leithinger, a computer scientist in CU 麻豆影院鈥檚 ATLAS Institute, she has been developing a sensor-laden jacket that will vibrate and pulse in response to sound frequencies. When a note or combination of notes sounds, sensors embedded in the jacket will vibrate in a corresponding way, providing a pattern of physical sensation.

鈥淗earing is really just another form of touch,鈥� Michelle said.

The jacket 鈥� which she wants to be fashionable as well as functional, so it doesn鈥檛 mark the wearer as disabled 鈥� is a form of haptic technology, a category that usually involves blending digital and physical experience.

鈥淢ichelle has come to this project with amazing motivation,鈥� said Leithinger, whose work at CU and, earlier, at MIT鈥檚 Media Lab, focuses on inventing new computer interfaces that let people interact with data through touching, grasping and deforming. 鈥淭his was shaped by her personal experience, but also the drive to create a simple, inexpensive device for others based on open-source tools.鈥�

With the help of a grant from CU鈥檚 undergraduate research opportunities program, Galetti stayed at CU last summer to work with him. She continues to work on it as a side project, in addition to an astonishing variety of other activities.

She鈥檚 been named an engineering fellow, a mentoring program for engineering students (TAM students are part of the engineering school). She continues her work with the startups. She rides horses. She鈥檚 been learning sign language.

The range of sound accessible to humans with standard hearing runs from about 20 hertz (a tuba, roughly) to 20,000 hertz (extreme shrillness). Galetti wants her jacket to translate the full range.

鈥淚 want to access extremes,鈥� she said.

Photos by Glenn Asakawa聽