March 27 - White Cane Scouts

For a white cane user, there are many small tricks as to the safest way to use the cane. Some people use the white cane only for ID, but for me and for others like me, we use the cane as a tool for mobility. There are different guidelines for using a cane in different situations.

In the last few weeks since my surgery, I have been reminded of one of those situations. While normally I tend to use stairs or sometimes escalators, some difficulty with movement has recently seen me making more use of elevators. There is a definite technique for this. Always the cane or guide should precede the person with limited or no sight into the elevator. Just because the elevator doors open, doesn’t necessarily mean that the elevator is waiting inside the opening doors. We need to use the cane to scout out the path in front. In this way we can check for hazards just as an army scout checks out the path ahead for the foot soldiers who are coming behind.

My first lesson with this was when I began using a white cane. It was at an LRT station in Edmonton. We were to take the elevator to the lower level of the station. Knowing the small space of the elevator, I quickly folded my cane and stepped inside. My mobility instructor who was fast on my heels, gasped in shock. When Janice had gathered herself together she told me of the occasion when a young blind male had done a similar thing but had stepped not onto the floor of the elevator, but out into the empty space where the elevator should have been. There had been no warning to say that the mechanism wasn’t working that particular day.

“Never, ever,” instructed Janice, “step into the elevator unless you first put forward your cane or are led by a guide.”

I have remembered the lesson. All too often, sighted people will step aside to allow the person with the cane to go first. While the manners of these good citizens are impeccable, it behooves the non-sighted person to remember that common sense and white cane awareness at all times comes before any displays of social niceties, chivalry and politeness.

March 20 - White Cane Users

I have been writing thoughts and observations on this blog site for about three years now. Sometimes these thoughts have been quite personal and at other times I have strayed to more factual comments. For the most part, I know that there is a regular following – some friends I know and others whom I haven’t yet met. As the number of readers continues to climb, I must admit that I feel a certain connection with you all.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I wrote an entry title, White Canes as ID. The number of readers spiked by more than 250. As I reflected, I thought of a new connection. There were people outside of my personal acquaintance who were also white cane users and who used the Internet to search for more information on our shared situation. I felt warmed by this new white cane connection. For me, it was as if we had formed a small but new electronic support group.

All this is not to say that we white cane users can be painted with the same brush. Just as people who are fully sighted are as different as peas in a pod, people who are blind or partially sighted are different from one another. We all have differing abilities, capabilities and potential. The white cane is a symbol of blindness, mobility and an independent spirit. Those of us who are white cane users have differing degrees of all three – blindness, mobility and independence.

Technology has played a huge part in making this happen. In the past, people who were blind were frequently isolated. Now, should we choose to do so, we can share our thoughts and opinions about our common situation electronically. While the majority of my face-to-face friends are fully sighted, I enjoy this other shared experience with others who are either blind or partially sighted. We have come a long way in having a voice that is heard, and to a degree, understood.

March 13 - Checking Out the Health Care system

While last week I was in hospital following my surgery, this week I have had an opportunity to check out our health care system from a different angle. When I went to have my staples removed, I mentioned to the doctor that I had become increasingly breathless. In fact, when I spoke with my sister on the phone, she said that it sounded as if I had just run a marathon. Of course, she knew that this was an impossibility and I knew that I had only walked four steps to answer her call.

On Tuesday, my first trip outside the house since my operation, the day regressed from a half hour drive in the sunshine to a twelve-hour test of physical endurance. We drove from the doctor’s office to the emergency at the local hospital. From there it was a blood test to determine that I did indeed have a blood clot somewhere in my system. What followed was an x-ray, a CT scan, admission to the emergency room in a larger hospital, an ambulance ride, and a sleepless night back in the local hospital. I am now on a daily regimen of blood thinners in an attempt to dissolve the two blood clots in my right lung.  The whole experience was an eye opener to both the efficiencies and inefficiencies of our health care system.

I was appalled by the waiting time in ER.  Had the staff been busy with other emergencies I might have understood. Instead, the issue was with a malfunctioning printer. I had checked in at the front desk as required, but the paper work, which needed to be transferred electronically from there to the emergency desk didn’t come. I listened in pain and frustration while personnel walked the twenty or thirty steps back and forth in front of me in order to fix the problem. By the time I finally saw a real person I was in a state of collapse and needed to be taken in a wheelchair to an available bed. Although the experience in the larger hospital was similar in wait time, I was already in a wheelchair. The problem there was that it seemed necessary to repeat at least three or four more times my medical history from a tonsillectomy at age four to my recent pelvic surgery. I have forgotten how many times I have repeated this same history within the past ten days. Surely there must be a better way to record this same information from one department to another.  I wonder if anyone has ever thought of a standard form that could travel with the patient!

We really need to pump more dollars into our health care system. I have seen expensive equipment ranging from a CT scanner to a fancy patient lift chair sitting idle. There simply didn’t seem to be the staff around who were trained to operate available equipment. I noticed this especially when my roommate at the hospital needed to go to the x-ray department. He was unable to get out of bed by himself. Nevertheless it took nearly half an hour until a staff member who could operate the lift was found. Not only do we need more dollars given to health care but we need them to go to appropriate places. We need to have trained staff available so that the equipment and resources that are already in place can be used efficiently.

That’s all on the negative side. On the positive side I am extremely grateful to my personal physician and his quick action in getting my problems diagnosed. He is the doctor around town who is known as the one who, when it is necessary, can make things happen. I am grateful for the kindness and professionalism of most of the health care workers I encountered. They do their best under sometimes stressful conditions. I am thankful for many friends and family who have kept me in their prayers. Lyle and I are reliant on this.

March 9 - In Like a Lamb

While I wonder if eastern Canada will ever be able to emerge from under their blanket of ice and snow, for those of us who live in the west it has been an especially mild winter. Indeed, March has come in like the proverbial lamb. This was especially good for me as this past week saw us again on the road to Edmonton. This time it wasn’t for another medical appointment but for surgery.  I was especially grateful for the mild weather on the day I was discharged. Even pick-up parking around the city hospital was a bit of a zoo.

When all of this came up, I realized how fortunate I have been in that I hadn’t been a hospital patient for many years. I was quite unprepared and really didn’t know what to expect. A pre-admission clinic gave me the ins and outs of the medical/surgical side, but I wondered how different, or indeed if at all, a hospital stay would be for me as a legally blind patient rather than as a sighted person.

My first decision was to make sure that anyone I encountered knew that I was legally blind. This led to some interesting contacts. I was asked on more than one occasion – Well, what is it that you see? How much can you see? Can you see me? Do you know who I am? I thought you might recognise my voice from the other day! Re that last question, I made sure that anyone who came into my room identified themselves before they started any sort of discussion.

I suppose that I have been fortunate in that my last hospital stay was many years ago. Still, this left me somewhat undecided as to what I would need to pack in my little bag for the stay. Of course I would need the regular things like comb, toothbrush, etc, but would I need more than a sighted patient. I decided on my audible watch and my Victor Stream reading machine. They turned out to be excellent choices.

The watch was great for those lonely hours when I couldn’t see the clock on the wall but didn’t want to bother staff to ask the time. I could press the audible signal and know exactly how much longer it would be until my next pain medication came along. I could only wear the watch on the wrong hand because of an IV in my left, but the upside down position seemed of little significance in the long run.

I loaded my Victor Stream with several books prior to my stay. In the end I only managed to listen to one but I am now listening to the others. The best feature on the Victor Stream was the sleep factor. Setting the recording for 15 minutes meant that I could doze off at will – something I did frequently – and still find my place in the book when I woke up.

I also found that I often needed to remind staff to leave things the same way as they were when they entered the room as when they left. Probably this is also important for someone who is sighted but being unable to see the position of items on a tray or being unable to distinguish between a call button and a light switch is a bit frustrating. Just being there was frustrating enough without other additions.

So, that was my experience of this past week.  I hope that it doesn’t sound like too much complaining because in reality I am so grateful for the marvels of modern medicine and for the friends and family who have supported us with their thoughts and prayers through all of this. I am now hoping that this beautiful March weather will continue until I am able to walk outside and enjoy it.