Feature courtesy of Christopher A. Miller, Northwestern University Sports Media
Photo credit: Dr. Jeff Nelson
CHICAGO, Ill. -- Her parents kept turning up the TV louder and louder, but she still couldn't hear it. That's when Tom and Bernadette Molloy knew something was not right.
Seven-year old Sinead Molloy had fallen in the shower the night before, hitting her head. There was no bump, no contusion, but her parent's voices didn't sound the same -- it sounded like an airplane was flying around in her head, Sinead recalled.
Sinead was born hard of hearing only in her left ear, but never formally diagnosed. After her fall though, she lost hearing in both ears. An MRI revealed that Sinead had a preexisting, undiagnosed birth defect and the fall didn't cause her sudden hearing loss.
Today, nearly 14 years removed from learning she had Enlarged vestibular aqueduct (EVA) syndrome, which rendered her completely deaf, the Chicago native has overcome her disability to become a three-year starter and leader on the North Park University women's basketball team. Off the court, she is studying to be a nurse much like her grandmother, mother and older sister.
"She brings straight intensity," said North Park assistant coach Annie Shain. "She just lights a fire offensively, defensively and provides a spark. She is a good leader. You know you're gonna get 110% with Sinead steps on the court."
What makes EVA troublesome is that it's not regularly tested for at birth. Similarly, people who have it often present asymptomatically. Normally, it can take a traumatic or triggering event occurs do people typically present symptoms.
"It's just a malformation in the inner ear, where one part is a little bit smaller," said Siobhan Donohue, Sinead's Aunt and an educational audiologist. "For some people, they have this condition and they don't even know they have it. But they could have a blow to the head, be playing a musical instrument, go scuba diving, or anything that causes a change in pressure. It [the inner ear] pops, the fluid rushes out and they lose their hearing."
In the emergency room the day after her fall, the Molloy's learned that with a cochlear implant, Sinead would likely be able to hear again. But it would not be a quick process. In 2006, per Food and Drug Administration regulations, children with hearing loss were required to have a trial run with hearing aids before qualifying for cochlear implantation.
Growing up in a family of 10, quiet can be hard to come by. But at seven, while using hearing aids that weren't working, Sinead -- the sixth of Tom and Bernadette's' eight children -- realized how terrifying it was to have the silence she often craved, especially specially when it never ends.
"I definitely remember being confused and not have any clue as to what was going on," Sinead said of her time using hearing aids. "I didn't talk too much. I would communicate with my siblings and my parents through a whiteboard, because I couldn't hear myself talk. Or, if I did talk, it would be extremely loud, almost yelling."
For her father Tom, waiting was the toughest part. Week after week, Sinead was taken to the hospital for a hearing test with the same result -- Sinead still couldn't hear.
Those fears were only exacerbated when, after her cochlear implant surgery, she still didn't hear right away. They had waited eight weeks just to have the surgery. Now, the family had to wait longer, hoping for her hearing to return.
"At the medical centers, they [doctors] have the highest expectation, the expectation that you should be able to hear," Donohue said. "But we just can't predict what the brain is going to do. Some kids get implants and they never learn to understand spoken language and then they have to use sign language. Others are like Sinead, [who fully understand spoken language]. But there's no way to do brain mapping to determine who will be the most successful."
As the Molloy family waited, hoping for improvement, fears began to mount.
"It didn't work right away. For the next three weeks [after surgery], it was very frustrating," Tom said. "We wondered, was she going to have to go to a different, [hearing impaired] school, away from her friends. We thought we were all going to have to learn sign language. It was really starting to bother Sinead especially, because she never thought she was going to hear again."
But, just as losing her hearing came suddenly so too did her ability to comprehend the spoken language. Sinead fell in August and the moment "everything clicked" was one day prior to Halloween -- when she was able to understand spoken language.
"It was like a switch flipped and she picked up everything instantly," Tom said. "It was like winning the lottery."
Moving forward, Tom and Bernadette decided Sinead would be treated just as her seven other siblings were treated and do all the things they did. In the Molloy family, that meant Sinead would play basketball -- the sport that bonded the family together.
Sinead, the youngest of the four Molloy sisters, followed in their path, playing travel AAU basketball for Jerald Davis head coach of Chicago Hoops Express. According to Davis, Sinead joining the team was akin to a rite of passage for a Molloy girl.
"Her family trusted me. In a basketball context I was family," Davis said. "It was like she was playing for a family member. She treated me like my own daughters treat me. She looked at me like she was my child. She listened to me like she was my child. The only thing I really ever had to yell at her about was shot selection one time. And, she immediately said, OK, and changed gears. She always wanted to do what I needed her to do. Her sisters always teased her saying she was my favorite."
Sinead also made an impression on Mike Valente, who took over the head coaching duties at Trinity High School during Sinead's sophomore season.
"She is a coach's dream," Valente said. "She was one of the hardest workers and her focus level was off the charts. When she wanted to do something, she put 110% in and nothing distracted her. When she was a senior, she had great leadership ability. She was such a great example for the younger kids on the team."
While Valente never coached any of the other Molloy siblings, he quickly learned how close the Molloy family was.
"Her mom and dad were at every game, and her siblings came whenever they could," Valente recalled. "The family support is out of this world. Now I understand why she wanted to stay close to home [for college]."
While Sinead never got to play against any of her sisters, she did get the next best thing - she played against a Lane Tech team that was coached by her oldest sister, Megan, during Sinead's junior season. Trinity came out victorious over Megan's Lane Tech squad, much to the chagrin of her big sister.
"It definitely, made me more competitive that game," Sinead said. "As much as I love my sister, I had a point to prove to my family, that I can play basketball and I am [just as] good, too."
As Valente described it, "One minute the siblings are best friends, the next they are talking trash and wanting to rip each other's heads off on the court."
After her prep career at Trinity, she wasn't ready to hang up her sneakers. So, Sinead, like two of her older sisters, would play collegiately. The choice came down to two schools: Carthage College and North Park University. She chose to be a North Park Viking, playing her home games at NPU Gymnasium, just two miles from the home she grew up in.
"Obviously it's in the city I grew up in, but my siblings and my whole family could come watch my game because it was so close to my house," Sinead said. And, if I ever needed something or if anything happens [with my implant], my mom can help me handle the process. Family definitely played a role [in my decision]."
On the academic side, Sinead knew for years she wanted to be a nurse, another choice influenced by a familial connection: Sinead's grandmother, mother, and one sister are nurses. Sinead hoped to follow that trend.
This year, Sinead started every game of her junior season, helping North Park to a 17-9 (10-6 CCIW) record and a third-place finish in the College Conference of Illinois & Wisconsin (CCIW). Additionally, Molloy was a tablesetter for the NPU offense, leading the team with 56 assists.
"I love to make a play with someone and give them the opportunity to score," Sinead said. "It makes me feel just as good as making a basket myself."
It's that pass-first mentality on the court that drives her sister, Megan, crazy.
"She almost passes the ball too much," Megan said. "She's always incorporating her teammates into the play and is always looking to get them the ball. I don't know why she has this lack of confidence, but she needs to get over it and shoot more for her team."
While Sinead hopes to use the offseason to regain confidence in her shooting stroke, it won't be an easy fix. Being a "helper" and putting the needs of others above her own is who she is. Whether she is racking up assists on the court or helping save patients in the hospital -- she learned the importance of helping others from her parents.
"In my family, my dad will put us [kids] first and then my mom will do the same," Sinead said. "I think I've grown into that [mentality], putting other people first, instead of putting myself first."
Sinead lives by the mantra, "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take." Over the course of her basketball career, she has inevitably made and missed hundreds, if not thousands, of shots, and these figures will only increase as she prepares for her senior season at North Park. But it's the chances she has taken every day since a freak accident at seven years old that have shaped Sinead Molloy into the sibling and student-athlete she is today, and into the nurse she will become in the near future.
