When Cody Hall, a mechanical engineer from Elkhart, visited Malawi on a mission trip, there was a single phrase that stuck with him: “Madzi ndi moyo.”

It means “water is life.”

“This is not water for shaving. This isn’t water for washing your motorcycle,” Cody said. “This is the water you drink. It’s the water you cook with. It’s the water you give your children that sustains them. It’s what life is based on and you can’t live without it.”

But water systems require regular maintenance, which can be time-consuming or even dangerous in war-torn countries.

That is why an Elkhart-based organization has developed a universal satellite monitoring system that reports data on the health of water systems in underdeveloped countries. 

The SonSetLink™ water monitor can track anything from the number of gallons flowing from a single system on any given day to the levels of chlorination in that water.

Water systems fail, and our water partners often don’t realize it until it’s too late – or they waste time checking on pumps that don’t need maintenance. The SonSetLink™ water monitor  provides data that informs maintenance crews and helps them plan routine and emergency pump maintenance . The result? Clean water keeps flowing.

SonSet Solutions has deployed more than 750 water monitoring units to more than 25 countries across the world so far.

One of the units has been installed in a remote village in the Ecuadorian jungle. The water system failed one day, and the village gathered to figure out what to do. A man from the village soon embarked on a long journey to the offices of the organization that installed the water system. After an eight-hour walk through the jungle and a four-hour bus ride, he finally arrived.

But thanks to the SonSetLink™ water monitoring system, the team had already learned of the system failure and had pulled the schematics to begin the troubleshooting process.

However, the man’s journey was not in vain.

“He arrived just in time to learn about possible failures and their repair procedures, and to collect the equipment needed to restore the flow of clean water in record time,” said Doug Weber, creative director for SonSet Solutions. “Does water monitoring really make a difference? It did for this village.”

**ABOUT SONSET SOLUTIONS
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SonSet Solutions is an Elkhart-based nonprofit that aims to provide technology-based solutions to advance the Gospel worldwide. The organization believes that technology can expand the reach and deepen the impact of ministries around the world. In addition to the SonSetLink™ water monitors, SonSet Solutions specializes in building portable, solar-powered radio receivers and establishing radio stations to bring hope to communities around the world. 

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SonSet Solutions keeps clean water flowing with satellite monitor

Offer story-driven marketing services in the areas of content, design, strategy and development. Selected projects and accomplishments: Directed content strategy for Futurestay as the SaaS start-up successfully raised $11 million in Series A funding.<ul><li>• Used content (including webinars, ebooks, video, case studies, press releases, blogs &amp; more) to drive a 533% increase in organic traffic</li></ul>Served as the director of digital communications for the grassroots campaign of U.S. Congressional candidate Pat Hackett.<ul><li>• Earned media coverage from the New York Times, Newsweek, Marie Claire, NBC News, Time Magazine, among others</li><li>• 75% of voters contacted through campaign turned out to vote, compared with just 47% overall turnout</li></ul>Acted as copy lead on agile sprint testing campaigns. Used in-depth discovery work and user personas to draft, test &amp; iterate on messaging to drive growth.<ul><li>• Reduced CPC by 53% for electric vehicle rental start-up Borrow</li><li>• Achieved a CPI 33% lower than global iOS average for Morty, an app for escape room enthusiasts</li></ul>

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Creative Director & Founder

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I never would have thought a plain hospital parking garage could elicit such powerful memories.But as I unbuckled my 3-year-old son from his car seat and urged him to walk quickly so we would make it to our appointment on time today, memories from the last time I visited Elkhart General Hospital flooded back.I was cutting the timing close for that appointment, too, and I recall another woman rushing past me in the stairwell as she pulled a white lab coat over her shoulders.“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” I said. She laughed and told me that at least I got a free pass because I was carrying an infant in a car seat.The woman in the stairwell was actually the audiologist we were scheduled to see for Max’s auditory brainstem response test that morning.After Max failed his newborn hearing screening, we were referred to a local hearing center with an appointment a few months out. On the day of the follow-up tests, some of the equipment was broken and our referral was passed to another audiologist in the area.The next day, I answered an urgent call asking if we could schedule the tests for the following week. The audiologist wanted to see Max as soon as possible, as infants older than 3 months are more likely to need sedation for the test as the results are only accurate if there is no movement or external noise. Natural sleep is much safer than sedated sleep for an infant, and we were about to miss that window.The test was scheduled for Max's 3-month birthday and we were given instructions to wake him early and wait to feed him until we were in the testing booth. If we timed it right, he would be hungry and tired enough that a bottle would put him in a deep sleep to allow for accurate results.When we got settled into the noise-proof testing booth, the audiologist described the test and told me that she would be sending signals of various frequencies and volumes and measuring the response through electrical sensors on his forehead.She asked me if I wanted to know the results as she was conducting the test or if I would rather wait until my husband could join when she was done.“If you’re not sure how you would handle bad news, it's better to wait,” she said. An emotional outburst would put a quick end to the test.My job was to remain still and calm, and I knew my nervous energy would be a disruption if I was wondering what the audiologist was recording the entire time.“Tell me as you go,” I told her. The machine started sending beeps through the baby-sized earbuds and the audiologist watched a chart on her computer. As the beeps went higher in frequency, she whispered that she was not registering a response.&nbsp;The longer we could keep Max asleep, the more tones and frequencies the audiologist could test. Max stirred after about an hour, so we took a break while I nursed him back to sleep for another hour or so.&nbsp; The audiologist flipped on the lights, invited my husband back into the booth and summarized the results: mild-to-moderate sensorineural hearing loss with a slope to the right, meaning higher frequencies are harder to hear. She sat with us for more than an hour and answered all the questions we didn't realize we had about hearing loss. Will his hearing get worse over time? What caused his hearing loss? Will he need to learn sign language? Will he need hearing aids or a cochlear implant? Will he develop language at the same pace as his peers? How can we help him? She didn't have all the answers, but she recommended a game plan: We would get Max fitted with hearing aids as soon as possible. Every day we waited, he was missing out on the sounds that would help him develop language.&nbsp; Max's hearing aids were activated three years ago, and he is now filled with hundreds of words and questions to show for it (the early interventions through First Steps and the Elkhart County Special Education Cooperative helped, too).&nbsp; We were back at the hospital today for an appointment with a genetics counselor. I'm certain we were offered a referral for genetics testing when Max was younger, but Travis and I both agreed: It won't change anything, so we don't need to know. But when Max was sick with a mysterious infection, I realized the importance of the test. Without knowing the cause of Max's hearing loss, every runny nose or stomachache would make me wonder if the symptoms were actually a rare genetic condition finally making itself known.&nbsp; The results of a genetics test can't change Max's hearing loss, but they can help us prepare for future health complications in the case that his hearing loss is caused by a syndromic gene mutation. After a quick cheek swab, Max's saliva sample is on its way to the lab to screen for 200 of the most common gene mutations that cause hearing loss. In a few weeks, we'll know if Max's hearing loss is genetic (which is likely, given no other apparent cause), and whether it is associated with other symptoms (unlikely, but possible). There are a few genes that I am terrified of seeing on the positive list from the results, like one that can cause a disease called Usher syndrome which also causes progressive vision loss starting in late adolescence.&nbsp; I remember leaving the hospital after Max's ABR. My husband and I sat in the car and let Max play with the steering wheel while we attempted to process the diagnosis. We weren't sure what his life would look like, but we knew he would be fine.&nbsp; As Max and I left his appointment today, I know we were right: Thanks to early intervention, Max is a talkative toddler with Paw Patrol hearing aids. He will be just fine.

From ABR to genetics counseling: Reflecting on hearing loss testing

Michelle Sokol

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Before my own son was born with hearing loss, I did not know much about how the ears worked. As it turns out, most people don't understand hearing loss – even medical professionals. At Max's three-month checkup &nbsp;– after his ABR and before we received his hearing aids – his pediatrician turned to leave the room but paused for a moment. She clapped her hands and loudly exclaimed: “BYE, MAXWELL!”Max and I both startled at the sudden noise, and the pediatrician noticed.&nbsp;“See, he can hear just fine,” she said with a wink as she walked out the door.&nbsp;At his next appointment, she again hinted that his hearing was fine and that he would "grow out" of his hearing aids.I explained that his hearing loss was most likely permanent and that he may “grow out” of the hearing aids some day, but right now they are critical to help him develop language. She shrugged and told me she had seen bigger miracles in her career.If that encounter had happened today – now that I have several years of experience as an advocate for Max and his hearing loss – I would have used the exchange as a teaching moment. I would have explained the importance of recognizing hearing loss and the impact even mild losses can have on brain function.&nbsp;Instead, I turned to a Facebook community for parents with hearing loss for reassurance that I was not overreacting about the situation.&nbsp;More than 50 parents commented on my post, many sharing their own similar experiences. One mom shared that her child's doctor refused to provide a referral to audiologist or ENT, meaning that her insurance would not cover the specialty visits. Another shared that a teacher would continuously lower her voice during parent-teacher conferences to a whisper, just to see if her kid was “faking it.”Most comments encouraged me to find a new pediatrician. As someone who has always avoided conflict, the thought of asking for a new doctor made me anxious.But a few weeks later, we returned to the pediatrician's office with an ear infection. A new doctor was working the acute clinic that day, and he paused before looking in Max's ear.&nbsp;“I need to be honest, I've never treated a child with hearing aids. Is there anything I should know before the exam? Does he need any special accommodations because of his hearing loss?” By admitting that he did not have much experience or knowledge about hearing loss, he gained my trust immediately.&nbsp;After seeing a clearly infected ear and prescribing the necessary antibiotics, the doctor asked if I had any more questions: “Yes, are you accepting new patients?”On the way out of the office, I stopped at the front desk and asked to be transferred to the new doctor. While it may not have counted as a dramatic “firing,” it was the first time I stepped out of my own comfort zone to advocate for my son. I know it won't be the last. When Max caught the flu and ended up with another ear infection this year, we visited the pediatrician. His ear was hurting too much to wear his hearing aids, so it was the first time the doctor had interacted with Max without technology. When Max answered a question himself, his doctor turned to me with a surprised face and asked with genuine curiosity: “He heard that? What kind of sounds can he hear on his own?" I pulled up Max's audiogram on my phone and showed him that his loss means he can hear most sounds, but loses some of the most important language noises. I was so grateful for the exchange and the opportunity to help a medical professional better understand hearing loss. Although his audiogram is now complete – we have charted his loss through years of various testing – there are still things I do not understand about Max's hearing loss. I'm still baffled when Max wakes up from a deep sleep to the sound of his dad fluffing his pillow downstairs, yet sleeps through a blaring fire alarm.&nbsp;I'm still learning, and I encourage everyone in Max's life to do the same. I love answering questions about Max's hearing loss and how he is experiencing the world.&nbsp;But please, don't "test" his hearing. We have an audiologist for that.

Why I Fired My Son's Pediatrician For Clapping

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I once heard someone describe raising a child with hearing loss as dancing in the dark, and I have carried that with me.&nbsp; I knew nothing about hearing loss until my own son was born with moderate to severe bilateral sensorineural hearing loss, and I still struggle with the knowledge that he is experiencing the world in a way that I never have. Raising Max has been a dance in the dark as I have tried my best to advocate for him without truly understanding his needs or his challenges.Thankfully, early intervention for Max also included training and information for his parents. Through First Steps, we qualified for an online therapy called iHEAR through the St. Joseph Institute for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing. For 2.5 years, we met with a speech language pathologist every week to learn new ways to incorporate language into our normal play. Max was battling a cold one week early in our iHEAR journey, and I didn't want to wake him from his nap. Instead of skipping the session, our iHEAR coach asked, “Have you ever heard of the speech banana?” She shared her screen and showed me an audiogram with a yellow band highlighted in the middle. It looked like a banana. An audiogram is a graph that represents a range of sounds, with Decibels (loudness) on the vertical axis and frequency (pitch) on the horizontal axis. A person with normal hearing will have a line that is mostly flat and close to the top of the graph, while a person with hearing loss will have a line that dips down at certain frequencies, indicating that they have difficulty hearing those sounds.A dog barking, which is generally low-pitched and loud, would be plotted on one corner of the graph while a bird chirping, high-pitched and quiet, would be on the opposite corner. Any sound we encounter in the world can be plotted on an audiogram, including the individual sounds that we us when speaking words and sentences.When the most common speech sounds are plotted on an audiogram, the narrow band takes the shape of a banana. It's called the “speech banana,” and it is the single most helpful tool I have found to understand hearing loss.&nbsp; Our iHEAR coach pulled Max's most recent audiogram from his file and drew a green line across the chart and through the banana.&nbsp; &nbsp;<figure class="image image_resized" style="width:61.61%;"><img src="https://res.cloudinary.com/listenup/image/upload/v1674837370/Max_s_Speech_Banana_a96c1c51c7.png" alt="Max's Speech Banana" srcset="https://res.cloudinary.com/listenup/image/upload/v1674837370/thumbnail_Max_s_Speech_Banana_a96c1c51c7.png 164w,https://res.cloudinary.com/listenup/image/upload/v1674837372/small_Max_s_Speech_Banana_a96c1c51c7.png 500w,https://res.cloudinary.com/listenup/image/upload/v1674837372/medium_Max_s_Speech_Banana_a96c1c51c7.png 750w,https://res.cloudinary.com/listenup/image/upload/v1674837372/large_Max_s_Speech_Banana_a96c1c51c7.png 1000w," sizes="100vw"><figcaption>Charting Max's audiogram across the speech banana helped me finally understand his hearing loss.</figcaption></figure>She explained that without hearing aids, Max has difficulty hearing any sound above the green line. Half of the sounds that makes up language was above the green line.&nbsp; While Max was responding to our voices and most sounds, he was missing the individual sounds that help us decipher words. His brain would be on overdrive to compensate, trying to fill in the gaps and use other context to comprehend what was being said. Hearing aids aren't like glasses. They don't magically make sound clear, but they can be programmed to amplify the most important sounds and help fill in the gaps.&nbsp; Recent research has shown a strong link between hearing loss and dementia. Studies have found that older adults with hearing loss are more likely to develop dementia than those with normal hearing. This is thought to be because the brain has to work harder to compensate for missing sounds, which can lead to cognitive decline over time.Research has not yet been published to show whether hearing aids can slow or prevent dementia, but there is plenty of evidence to show that they will help Max develop language and learn to communicate. Hearing aids are rarely covered by insurance, but I'm hopeful the new research will change that.

How A Banana Helped Me Understand Hearing Loss

Listen Up Creative

SonSet Solutions keeps clean water flowing with satellite monitor

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