To those of you waiting for a cochlear implant — here’s where I’m at.

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It’s in. I’m on.

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On Monday at Southern Cross, Gilles Avenue in Auckland, I had my implant surgery. Despite a recent complication — a broken neck from a bizarre tennis accident seven weeks ago — everything went smoothly. Melanie Collins led the procedure, and the whole team made it feel straightforward and calm. I stayed the night for observation and was genuinely impressed with the care — and even the food.

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The next morning, Caroline from the Hearing House came to Southern Cross to do the switch on.

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Even though I’d been thoroughly briefed, you never really know what to expect until it happens. The switch-on was surreal. The first sensation? My left ear sounded like a bird aviary — high-pitched chirps and digital whistles. It reminded me of a radio station not quite tuned in. Strange, but strangely hopeful.

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Driving home to Coromandel, more new sounds filtered through. I heard the rain hitting the windscreen. Then I heard something I’ve never heard before — the fuel warning chime. Tiny moments that hit surprisingly hard.

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The team at The Hearing House had explained that the implant starts at level one — you don’t get full sound right away. It’s about giving your brain time to adjust. And yes, it’s exhausting. I spend a lot of time thinking and writing, but this is different. My brain’s working in ways it hasn’t had to for years, trying to decode unfamiliar signals. It wears you out fast.

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So that’s where I’m at. It’s working. It’s weird. And it’s happening.

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Time for a cup of tea and a lie down. I’ll keep you posted.

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— Shaun