April 23 - Happy Easter

Lyle and I are nearing the end of a holiday in Australia.  For the past ten days we have been staying at my sister’s home in Summer Hill.  Summer Hill is a suburb of Sydney’s Inner West.  It is an interesting mix of the old and historical and the new and trendy.

This was evident in the local neighbourhood church we attended on Sunday.  St. Andrew’s was cathedral like in appearance.  It was a huge building with multiple stained glass windows and capped with a very, very tall spire.  The church was completed in 1883.

Inside, the back pews had been removed to create an open space for children to move around and where tea and coffee were served after the service.  The front part of the church had traditional wooden pews.  The congregation comprised mostly younger adults and there were children everywhere. The atmosphere was vibrant and enthusiastic.

Upon entering the church, two greeters handed us service bulletins.  This was good as the service didn’t follow the traditional Anglican format.  Two hymns were sung with the pipe organ and three songs were accompanied by a five-piece band and lead singer.  It was a mix of  the traditional and the more modern. I was disappointed when the words of a traditional hymn I knew by heart had been changed.  Possibly this was meant to make it more inclusive but I was now unable to sing as the words were unfamiliar to me.

While Lyle and I usually travel together, I often ask myself if I would be able to do the same things if I was alone.  St. Andrew’s passed the test for me.  As well as the printed bulletin, verbal directions as to whether to sit or stand were given as to the flow of the service.  Greeters and ushers were helpful.  This was a church I could easily return to.

There is a picture with this post.  I am standing at the gates to the courtyard in front of the church.

 

 

Sue at the gates in front of the church

Easter greetings to everyone from Lyle and myself. 

April 14 - Overheard Conversation

Lyle and I were walking through the plaza.  As we approached a nearby picnic table I heard the following conversation between an older woman and a teenage boy.

Woman: “You should move your bike from where you dropped it on the sidewalk.. Somebody might trip on it.”

Boy: “It’s okay where it”s at. You would have to be blind not to see it.”

I was just hoping that I wasn’t going to be the blind person who tripped over the bike that had been carelessly dropped in the middle of the pavement.

Fortunately, even though the bike wasn’t moved, I missed it!

April 9 - The Shoreline

When my sight first changed, I found that walking in a straight line with my cane could sometimes be difficult.  My mobility instructor suggested that I use the tip of my white cane long the “shoreline.”

I was confused.  At the time we were walking along an inside hallway of a CNIB building. What did Janice mean by the “shoreline”?  She explained that the shoreline was simply the edge of the path. Inside it might be where the carpet meets the wall. Outside it might be where the pavement meets the grass.

I found this suggestion very helpful, although it doesn’t apply everywhere and in all locations. If you are a white cane user you will know that there are many wide surfaces without an obvious shoreline, such as an airport terminal, a shopping plaza, a playground or a park.

I often think of this first white cane mobility lesson when Lyle and I are actually on the shore of the ocean. That is where the following picture was taken.  I am standing on a sandy beach with small waves rippling towards my feet.  The edge is not so clearly defined.  I know I will have “crossed the line” when my feet actually get wet.

 

Sue with white cane at the shorline

 

March 30 - Would You Like A Muffin?

During the course of a month, I might easily attend several meetings. Usually at the conclusion of the formal part of the meeting, refreshments are served. Often the plate of goodies is passed around the table so each person can choose what they would like from the platter. Sometimes plates are laid out on a separate table or counter so that people can help themselves that way.   

Now the question. Would I like a muffin or a biscuit or a cake or a sandwich? This is the most difficult part for me. Certainly I would like a little treat of whatever is being offered but the difficulty is that I can’t see what is on the plate. So, do I bluff and reach out and take the top part of the sandwich, or perhaps stick my finger in the icing of a cake or maybe take two or three of the little biscuits when I misjudge what is there. I think that because I have responded during the meeting like all of the other sighted participants, people forget that I can’t see. Even though I have reasonable peripheral vision, I am unable to see the plate or what is on it even when it is placed right in front of me.

As well as gatherings where members are sighted, I attend a monthly support group meeting for people who have vision loss. At this meeting we overcome the challenge of serving refreshments by handing out individual plates or napkins. Before the refreshment is served there is an explanation as to what is on each plate. I don’t mind putting my fingers in my own cake icing or mangling my own sandwich or muffin. It is much better than handling and touching food that other people might want to eat.

If I am with friends, I am usually saved any embarrassment when they offer assistance. At a meeting last week, my friend Judy saw my hesitation about reaching for one of the snacks. Quite unobtrusively she told me what was on offer, asked what I would like, and placed it on my plate. Buffets are often a surprise to the taste buds unless I am with someone to help me through the line. All in all, it’s a good thing I’m not terribly fussy about food and I’m glad that I don’t have any food allergies. Who would have thought that selecting a particular muffin to eat could be such a challenge.

March 20 - Busy People

I have heard people say that when they retire, their lives just get busier. Well, I think that when people experience vision loss, the same can be said to be true. It just takes so much longer to do anything.

I am often frustrated with paper. I can’t see to read regular or even large size print. I do use a CCTV Reader which magnifies single words or numbers. However, reading documents of any length is very time consuming. I am always glad that I live in a digital age and sometimes I can listen to communications on my computer with my audible screen reading program. What I am trying to say is what would take a sighted person to read in less than a minute takes me very much longer.

Then there are appointments. Mostly a sighted person makes an appointment – medical, dental or whatever – and simply drives himself or herself to the particular location. A person with limited sight needs to arrange transportation and coordinate the timing of this with the appointment time. Often making transportation arrangements can be complicated. Whether the end result is a ride with a friend, or public transport, or specialized disability vehicle, the result can be – yes, you guessed it – time consuming.

Coping with the challenges of communication and transportation are two of the major difficulties in the life of a person who is sight disabled. We need a full twenty-four hours in the day to accomplish all that we would like to do. Once a friend asked me what I did with my days. Wasn’t I bored sitting at home doing nothing? The question took me by surprise! My days are nearly always full. I have learned to plan. Admittedly there isn’t much spontaneity in my life but I do keep busy.

 

March 2 - Sight and Sound

Last night Lyle and I were at a concert. As we waited for the performance to begin, I heard the woman sitting behind me remark that although she couldn’t see anything, she would be able to hear. Her comment mirrored my own thoughts. I knew that I couldn’t see the members of the choir in front of me, but I also knew that I would be able to hear their voices.

Some people express surprise when I tell them that I have been to a concert or a movie or some other performance. They ask what I get out of these things when I can’t see. I try to explain that sight isn’t the only aspect of enjoyment.

I do think that over the years of my diminished sight, I have become more attuned to sound. I like the sounds of our house. I like the hum of the fan when I turn our fireplace on in the morning. Often I can hear the barking of the neighbour’s dog. From our house I can hear the train whistle as it passes the crossing downtown – two long blasts, one short and another long. I love the chimes of my clock. I enjoy listening to my audio books. I check my text messages with Siri on my phone. Did you know that I have programmed Siri on my phone so that he speaks with an Australian accent? I miss some of these familiar sounds when Lyle and I are away from home.

Now I don’t think that I can hear any better simply because I can’t see. It’s not that my hearing has suddenly improved to compensate for my vision loss. I don’t believe that is the case. Instead, I think that I have become more attentive to the sounds around me. Possibly it is just that I have learned to listen to what I hear.

February 18 - White Canes

Last week I was at a presentation by a VLR orientation and mobility specialist demonstrating the different kinds of white canes. (VLR stands for Vision Loss and Rehabilitation.) Alex showed the group four types of canes and the various tips that could be attached to them. She explained how each tip was useful in detecting different ground surfaces. She stressed the benefits of using a cane when a person is visually challenged. She also stated that it was important for each person to find a cane that was most useful for his or her own situation.

I have had occasion to use each type of cane. In the early days of my vision loss, I tried a thin identity cane. The identity cane is held out in front of the user and its purpose is to alert others who might see the white stick and give them a heads up as to the low vision of the user. This would supposedly give them a hint to give the carrier of the identity cane a wider berth. Personally I didn’t find this helpful at all. Most people failed to notice the cane much less recognize its significance.

Then, after my knee surgery last year I tried a support cane. This cane is sturdy and although it is white in colour, I didn’t find that it carried any more significance than brown, black or gray canes with the same support function. While the cane was useful in supporting me with my healing knee, it didn’t give me an indication of the ground surface in front of me. It was useful in detecting the depth of a step – provided that I didn’t fall on the step in the first place!

For me the most useful cane has been the long mobility cane. I was amazed when I first tried out this cane in the hallway at a CNIB office. As I followed the sweep of the cane in front of me I felt a new confidence in moving forward. I could tell the difference in ground surface – tile or carpet – and I could follow along the sides of the hallway as the cane tip hit the edges.

Now you would think that with this amazing new freedom, I would be set to roll. This wasn’t the case. When I arrived home, I was hesitant to use my new cane in my local neighbourhood. I’m not sure why there was this juxtaposition of attitude. The positive benefit of using the white cane was obvious. I felt safer and more confident in my movements. Why then the reluctance?

I have spoken with other white cane users who have experienced a similar feeling. Partly, it is the idea of feeling different. We don’t like to draw attention to what could be regarded as a disability. There is an unspoken stigma. Some people have also spoken of the fear of being taken advantage of when the cane so clearly indicates their inability to see. Even now I sometimes choose when I will use my cane and when I can manage without it. In familiar indoor settings, I can find my way unaided by my cane. In busy unfamiliar settings I feel lost without it.

Using a white cane isn’t only a practical step forward in a journey with vision loss. There is also an emotional and psychological hurdle to overcome. While not being able to see is the obvious driving force behind deciding whether or not a person should take up a white cane, there are often other underlying factors that complicate making such a decision. For me, the benefits outweigh any negative outcomes.

There is a picture with this post. I am standing on one of the walking trails near our home. It is winter and the colour of my cane tends to blend in with the snowy conditions.

Sue with cane on a snowy path