July 16 - Telling Time

This past week the battery in my favourite clock died. Fortunately, Lyle had another battery stored away and he was able to set the clock going again. I say the clock is my favourite because it chimes. While other people might find the chiming annoying, I find the chimes almost essential. While I can’t read the hands on the clock face, I can hear the time it is telling.

It’s a strange thing about needing to know the time. I am a bit of a stickler for punctuality and I dislike being late. As the minutes tick by towards an appointment or even a casual meet up with friends, I find myself constantly checking the time on my audible watch. While the clock gives me the time to the quarter hour, my watch gives me the time to the minute.  My watch also tells the day and date. I found this especially helpful when we were on holidays last week. I find it difficult to keep track of the days when I am in vacation mode. I know that my phone has all the audible settings I have mentioned, but then again, I don’t like to carry my phone around when I am on holidays.

What a boon it is for us with low or no vision that we are living in this time of advanced technology. I would be lost or at least severely inconvenienced if it wasn’t for my audible devices. Telling or hearing the time is just one such technological advantage.

 

 

 

July 8 - Low Vision Confusion

Actually this is a two part post.  I wasn’t sure to title it “Low Vision Confusion” or “Glacial Splendour.”  Let me explain.  Lyle and I are on an Alaska cruise, and today we sailed into Glacier Bay.

The scenery in this part of the state is spectacular. Because the vista is so vast, I am at least able see some of it.  Margerie’s Glacier, where we sailed today, was a definite highlight.  Although others in our group have also seen whales and sea otters, I am waiting and hopeful that one will surface close enough to the ship so that I can also have this visual experience.

Now to the low vision confusion.  I have been wearing my low vision badge and using my white cane.  It is surprising how few people seem to recognize their significance.

Today in the dining room, I was pleased when waiter #1 realized that I didn’t need a print menu.  Then waiter #2 approached to hand me the print menu.  Then waiter #3, realizing I couldn’t see, possibly imagining that I couldn’t speak either, asked Lyle for my lunch order. While the waiters seemed unsure of how to approach a person with low vision, they were also working with the handicap of speaking English as a second language.  It was all very confusing.  However, waiter #1 wins the medal for the best attempt when he delivered my food. He identified each plate as he placed it in front me.

Back to glacial splendour.  There are two pictures with this post.  In the first, Lyle and I are standing on our balcony with the waters of the bay and mountains in the background.  In the second, I am standing alone on the balcony with the expanse of snow and ice of Margerie’s Glacier behind me.

Sue and Lyle on the balcony in Glacier Bay 

Sue in front of Mergerie Glacier 

June 29 - I Love A Parade

For many people, the end of June signals the beginning of summer. It’s a time for festivals, street markets, rodeos and parades. In some towns, there is an annual parade, perhaps for Canada Day or as in the case of our town, a parade associated with the town stampede and rodeo.

Theoretically, I love a parade, but at the same time the other side of my brain is asking why? I can’t see the floats. I don’t especially like crowds and there are bound to be people there whom I know but won’t recognize. Once again, I was quite undecided as to whether or not I wanted to go. In the end and in spite of my indecision, Lyle tossed the lawn chairs into the trunk and away we went.

Did I have a good time? Of course I did. It wasn’t as good as if I could see all that was going on, but nevertheless it was fun. Lyle manoeuvred our way through the crowds and found a good spot to place our chairs. The group of people who were sitting next to us were old friends and I had no need to explain anything about my vision challenges. As the morning wore on, I could feel the sun warm on my back. Lyle described each of the floats as they passed in front of us and I could definitely hear the music. I especially like the sound of bagpipes and there were two bands with this instrument. This year there had to be at least 200 horses in the parade. Lyle began to count about halfway through, but I could hear the sound of all the hooves clattering on the pavement. Next to us I could hear the excited yells of the youngsters as they dashed forward to retrieve the candies that were thrown their way. There was lots of laughter all around.

Yes, I love a parade! Certainly it could have been a more expanded experience if it wasn’t for my sight limitations, but I still managed to enjoy what I could. It was definitely better than sitting at home, feeling sorry for myself and looking at the wall. I love a parade!

There are two pictures with this post. In the first, a four-horse team pulling a wagon is passing in front of me. In the second picture, I am still watching as the wagon comes closer. There are two drivers wearing red t-shirts and I am wearing a red cardigan. There are a number of people in the wagon and two red flags at the rear.

Sue standing in front of a four-horse team pulling a wagon

Sue in front of the wagon

 

 

 

 

 

June 20 - Support Groups

As I have mentioned in past posts I belong to a support group for people with vision loss. At one point in time the age of our members ranged from 21 to 99.  Currently the age range is more like 40 to 85. However, it’d isn’t age that draws us together. Rather, it is our shared experience with the challenges associated with vision loss.

Sometimes at our meetings we share the frustrations of not being able to see well or not see at all.  These conversations often include the frustrations experienced by our care givers.  Hopefully the discussion will also lead to ways we can cope with these challenges.  At other meetings we might listen to a guest speaker or learn about a new assistive technology.  Always, we try to encourage each other.

At our most recent meeting we decided to share some tips we might pass on to someone who was at the beginning of vision loss.  The suggestions varied from practical tips in the kitchen (e.g., tactile bubbles on the surface of a microwave) to general thoughts on the use of audio technology available on phones and computers.  We had divided into two groups for this discussion.  While one group focused on practical issues, the other group talked about working with a sighted partner or friend. 

Denis and Denise spoke about this.  Denise has mobility challenges and uses a walking frame.  However, she is unable to lift the frame into the trunk of the car. Denis can’t see to drive but is perfectly able and willing to do the physical lifting of the walker.  Both Denis and Denise claimed this was just one example of their team work.

I am fortunate.  I have always had support from Lyle and my family who are all fully sighted.  My close friends who are also sighted, are also supportive and encouraging to me.  Nevertheless, there is something very special about the friendships I have developed within my support group.  There is a shared understanding of what it is like to be on this journey with partial sight.

June 11 - Vision Loss Adjustments

When my sight first declined, I learned that there were certain adjustments that would make my new life easier to manage. One basic rule was – “A place for everything, and everything in its place.” Of course this rule is a good one for everyone in any circumstance, but it is even more so for someone with vision loss.

When I could see, looking for lost or misplaced items was a nuisance. Now that I can’t see as well, looking for those same items is more than just a minor inconvenience. It is a major frustration. When I could see, it was just a case of looking around until I spotted the lost item.  Now that I don’t see as well, it is important for me to remember the exact location of where I might have put those items I use on a more or less daily basis.

Of course, like many people I learned this lesson the hard way. As a sighted person, I was quite casual in where I put things down. At the beginning of my sight loss journey, I used to wear prescription glasses. I was forever setting them down beside before moving on to another activity. One spot was to put them on the chair where I had been sitting. I discovered the error of my ways when I sat down again – yes, you guessed it – right on the glasses. The frames were bent and I needed to head on down to the local optometrist to explain my situation. If you think that was bad, consider my embarrassment when later on in the same day, I repeated my mistake. 

In those early days, I seemed to be constantly “losing” small objects. Where did I leave my keys? My wallet? The phone? I’m still not perfect, but I am definitely more aware. The keys have their place beside the coffee pot. My wallet is in the top drawer and fortunately I no longer wear glasses.

A place for everything and everything in its place. It’s a simple rule but a practice that can save both time and wasted energy.

June 1 - Guide Dogs

This past Sunday was the Lions Foundation National Walk for Dog Guides. Traditionally, this annual walk is held on the last Sunday in May. This year it was indeed on the very last day in May. For the past several years Lyle and I have participated in the fund raising walk and I am so grateful to the many people who sponsor me in the endeavour.

Sometimes people ask me why I don’t apply for a guide dog myself. It feels strange for me to answer that I actually have too much vision. I say strange, because that is a statement I don’t use very often. Let me explain. Although I frequently don’t see things directly in front of me, I have good peripheral sight when it comes to movement. I’m afraid that I would be constantly pulling on the leash of a guide dog instead of letting the dog do the guiding work. I tend to get startled by things that I think I can see and would likely jerk to a stop or pull away. This would be quite confusing for a dog trying to guide me. I know that Lyle often has to remind me that he is the one who can see and I should let him lead the way and not rely on my phantom sightings.

The Lions Foundation provides dog guides to Canadians in several circumstances of need, not just vision impairment. At our local walk on Sunday, we heard from the recipient of a Lions dog guide who worked with Victims Services. They had recently returned from the Oakville Centre in Ontario where the match between dog and person had been made and the two week training session had taken place. The whole process of training and transportation is covered by the Lions Foundation at a cost of $35,000 per match. What an amazing service for Canadians in need.

May 21 - GPS

GPS or Global Positioning System is a location and navigational device. As a pedestrian I often use a hand held GPS to figure out where I am and where I need to be going. In our vehicle, Lyle nearly always sets the GPS for our next destination. I wonder what we did in the old days without a GPS to lead the way.

Well, I do know what we did in our vehicle. In the very early days before we set out on a trip, we both looked at paper maps. Then came the time when my eyes couldn’t see to read the print on the map and I couldn’t help Lyle with directions while we were in motion. That is when we became more creative. Before a drive into unfamiliar territory, Lyle would study the paper map and then use a black felt marker to print out abbreviated directions on pieces of paper. He would place these in order and with each new turn of direction I would hold up the next instruction. This was okay as long as I kept the pieces of paper in order and Lyle was still able to read them in spite of any surrounding traffic or other distractions. An audible GPS has been a much better solution than this large print paper version.

As a partially sighted passenger I also find a GPS beneficial. Primarily the system relieves me of the responsibility of being the navigator. Secondly, I like to know where I am. I can’t see to read road signs or see even large landmarks, but the GPS audibly gives me location information. I can assist Lyle as a second set of ears to the navigation directions. I suppose that with years of relying on audio cues rather than the visual, my listening skills are more highly attuned. It’s one way of looking on the positive and I don’t need to keep nagging Lyle as to where we are and how long it will be before we get to our destination.

On another note, I would venture to say that a GPS can either break or save a relationship. It is quite lovely not to have to concentrate on location and direction when the GPS knows the way. Lyle and I can indulge in the pleasure of the drive. On the other hand, when the GPS loses the satellite signal in the midst of high buildings, mountains, or as in our most recent trip through rural Saskatchewan, the driver, Lyle, and the passenger, me, might also lose something called patience.

I suppose a GPS is like many other technologies. When the device is working as it should, it is great. When things go wrong, it is just frustrating.