Accident victim Janis Godere uses iPad app to communicate
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(Gallery by John Suchocki, The Republican)
HOLYOKE - Janis Godere cannot remember what her voice sounds like.
The last time she heard it was more than 30 years ago, before a car accident on the treacherous section of Route 116 in Amherst known as the Notch. She was traveling home from a wedding in 1977.
The crash left her brain damaged and paralyzed on one side of her body - and unable to speak.
For years, living at the Geriatric Authority of Holyoke, she used what could best be compared to a Ouija board to communicate.
Godere would point to letters and phrases or emotive symbols on a laminated sheet with her one good hand. The sheet was clipped to a tray on her wheelchair. It was, to say the least, an imperfect system.
Family members say Godere's maturity was stunted by her injuries from the accident, but she still has enough on the ball to retain a wicked sense of humor and a yearning for something beyond a mute existence.
It came in the form of "Verbally," an iPad app that her sister and brother-in-law, speech therapist and other clinicians recently affixed to her wheelchair. It allows Godere once again to have a "voice."
She chose hers: rejecting a number of Betty Boop-like sopranos and opting for a female voice she believes sounds like folksinger Joan Baez. Godere immediately greets people and asks preferences about nicknames and such.
Hers?
"You can call me anything, but leave out Janet," she responds mischievously, a nod to the inevitable, lifetime garbling of her own name.
"Verbally" falls under the burgeoning movement of "augmentative and alternative communication" for stroke victims and the brain injured who have lost their powers of speech.
Godere's speech-language pathologist is 27-year-old Sarah Fittis, and it could be her youth and allegiance to the techie nation which led to the brainstorm behind introducing "Verbally" to Godere's previously silent world.
"Augmentative and alternative communications can be extremely liberating, but it's so much more than handing someone an iPad," Fittis said. "You really have to work with the person. It depends a lot on their cognitive abilities, motor skills and fine motor skills. Janis has showed a lot of tenacity."
Godere, now 65, has been using the new technology since July.
During Fittis' overview of new speech therapy technology, Godere interrupted with an unsolicited: "She is my pal. She is my friend and will never let me lose courage," bringing Fittis to tears.
It is the beauty of the voice, Godere says. Second best written but best spoken, she adds.
Godere's sister, Judy Raymond, and brother-in-law, Dr. Howard Raymond, also saw a segment on television on how the app helped autistic children speak and were inspired. They purchased the iPad and applied for a $500 grant from the Will Power Foundation to get special hardware to have the iPad permanently welded on to Godere's wheelchair.
While the iPad and the hardware cost around $1,000, the app is free.
When Godere felt confident enough to begin using the technology herself, she began attending bingo games at the facility and playing for those who could not speak themselves, gaining even more popularity among the residents.
Once a secretary and office manager, Godere cannot recall how long she has been at the authority.
"Too long. But I can't tell you in days, weeks or hours," she says, insisting that she will one day be discharged and wants to become a veterinarian. She has a particular affinity for rabbits, she says through her Joan Baez voice.
"It's unlocked things in her brain," Dr. Raymond notes quietly, sitting in a chair in a corner of the room while his sister-in-law has the floor.
Indeed it does. Godere says she has named the device Angel Marie.
"I love it. It's what I would have named my first daughter," she said.