Mr. Katz asks a few more questions—pointless questions like “Is the sky blue?” and “Do dogs have six legs?” Then he asks, “Do you like the sniff controller?”
I do a big sniff for “YES.” Then two more. “YES. YES.” Mr. Katz smiles a big smile.
He turns to Mom. “Would you like to ask Jemma something?”
“Gosh,” says Mom, coming around to face me. “There are so many things I want to ask. I can’t think…”
Mom hesitates.
“Meeting Jodi…” she says finally. “Are you glad you met her? Please be honest, Jemma.”
“YES,” I sniff.
Mom stares at me, her eyes open wide as she takes in the fact that she’s asked me a question, and I have answered it. I can’t quite believe it either.
Her lip quivers, and she rubs her eye. Her mouth opens and then shuts again. Then she smiles. “Good. I’m so relieved,” she says. “I hoped so much that it was the right thing.”
“YES,” I sniff.
I wish the voice of my yes had as much enthusiasm as I feel. I sniff “YES” and “YES” again just to be clear.
“Now let’s try a letter board,” says Mr. Katz. “I understand from Professor Spalding that you can read, Jemma, but don’t worry too much about correct spellings.”
Things are moving fast. Am I ready for a letter board?
I watch as a screen with three panels appears. One is the alphabet spread across four rows. The next is numbers. The third panel is an empty green block. Underneath these three is a wide white block. YES and NO was one thing, but how can I possibly control this?
“This is very basic software that you can use to spell out words,” Mr. Katz explains. “The sniff controller can be linked to any communication software on a computer or tablet, so if this works, a speech therapist can help to identify the best software for you.”
Mr. Katz points at the screen. “As with the YES and NO screen, the cursor moves between the blocks, as you see. If you want a letter, give a big sniff when you reach the letter block. The cursor will then move from row to row. Give a small sniff when it reaches the row you want. The cursor will then move along that row, and you can select a letter with another small sniff. What you type will appear in the white box below. In the green box you will see predictive text, but don’t concern yourself with that for now.”
I am starting to feel panicky. This is meant to be basic? I’m not going to be able to do it. It’s too hard—I can’t take it all in. And what if I spell the words wrong? “Let’s try a letter,” he suggests. “See if you can select the letter C.”
I try to remember how to do it. I am relieved when he reminds me.
I wait as the cursor moves between the screens.
I sniff. It isn’t that different from picking yes or no. “Choose the row with a small sniff.”
C is in the first row. The cursor goes past before I can sniff, so I wait for it to go through the rows and back to the first. This time I do it!
“Now another small sniff when you reach C,” says Mr. Katz.
I’ve done it! C has appeared in the white box.
After a few minutes, with Mr. Katz’s patient instructions, the word CAT is visible at the bottom of the screen. It is slow, but I am writing words, real words, for the first time in my life.
“Do you want to type something yourself?” he asks me. “Maybe tell us how you feel about the sniff controller.”
I panic now. What do I say? What are the best words to express how incredible this is? Amazing? Brilliant? These feel right, but they will take forever. Good? Great? Slowly I begin to sniff out the word GREAT. I type G R, but sniff too late for the next E and get F. I’ve typed GRF. What do I do now? How do I correct a mistake?
Mr. Katz sees I have stopped sniffing. “If you make an error, select this eraser symbol to get rid of the last letter,” he tells me. “And this”—he points—“is the space bar, if you need it.”
Yes, now I can do it! I erase the F and sniff the E instead. Then A, then T.
“If you select the red speaker button—bottom right, here—then it will speak your words,” says Mr. Katz.
It takes a few sniffs to get there, but then it happens. The voice says, “GREAT.”
“You are doing so well,” says Mr. Katz. “I think you are great, Jemma!”
“So do I!” says Mom. Then I hear sniffing—and it’s not me. There is a sob. Mom is crying.
I begin to type DONT CRY. It takes about five minutes for me to get the right letters. Mom watches. I select the speaker. Mom cries harder.
“Sorry, Jemma,” she says between sobs.
“Let me fetch you a glass of water,” says Mr. Katz, handing Mom a tissue.
He leaves the room, and only now do I wonder what happens next. When can I have one? It might take a while to order it, I guess. Will it have to come from Israel? I need to type something now while I have the chance.
I am about to sniff toward the D when Mr. Katz comes back in with a glass of water and gives it to Mom.
“You have worked very hard and must be tired,” he tells me. “It is best not to do too much the first time.” He presses something on the computer, and the screen disappears. He pulls the tiny sensor tubes from my nostrils.
“No!” I want to scream. I find myself sniffing as if to select NO through my nose, but of course I am disconnected now.
“I know you have waited a long time for this moment, Jemma,” says Mr. Katz.
“All her life,” says Mom.
“And I am sure you are impatient to have the system at home.”
Yes, I am! He’s switched it off now, but maybe he’ll let me take it home with me.
“I’ll have to ask you… How much does it cost?” Mom says.
I freeze. What if it is too expensive? What if I can’t have it at all?
Mr. Katz smiles. “You will be surprised,” he tells Mom. “This is unusually cheap to make. As you can see it’s low-tech. It’s really just a plastic tube. It doesn’t rely on advanced technology of the kind used for eye-gaze sensors or vocal cord hummers, although it can be connected to many devices running all kinds of software.”
So it’s not too expensive! When can I have it? “However, it is still, as I say, in the research phase and has not gone into production yet,” Mr. Katz continues. “This equipment is just a prototype.”
My heart sinks. How long will I have to wait?
Can’t I just have this one?
“So how soon would Jemma be able to have one at home?” Mom is asking exactly what I want to ask. I can see the disappointment on her face too.
Mr. Katz’s feet shift as he wrinkles his forehead. “I have seen, Jemma, that you can use the equipment successfully. I will speak to my team and find out if I can leave this one with you. If so, I would require you to report on your use of it as a participant in our research project. We’re leaving in two weeks, but someone on the team can bring it over to you and set it up before we go.”
The significance of this slowly sinks in. I had an opportunity to say something here and now, and I’ve missed it. I’ve got so much that’s so important to say. Instead of typing CAT, I should have typed DAN KILLED RYAN.