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.

May 4 - Sight, Sound and Speed

When I am out walking alone, I rely fairly heavily on the sounds around me. When I can’t see what is coming towards me, I hope that at least I will hear the sound indicating the approach. I am usually quite startled when the first sound I hear is when the person or bike is right beside me.

Now I have complained in the past about bicycle riders who don’t sound their bike bell but now I want to add the danger I feel at the silent approach of electric bikes and scooters. The trail where I often walk is open to both pedestrians and bicycles. I’m not opposed to this. What does scare me out of my wits is when a bike – pedal or electric – is suddenly upon me. The regular bikes are scary enough but at least I can sometimes hear the motion of the pedals as they get closer. Anyway, they aren’t quite as speedy as the electric bikes. My heart really does start to beat faster when suddenly out of the quiet there is an electric bike and rider beside me. Do they even have bells to ring? I’m not sure but I do know that I haven’t ever heard one.

Now, as for electric cars – well, just don’t let me get started! Electric cars are just as silent as the bikes and travel even more speedily. I always cross roads at intersections or at a pedestrian crosswalk if there is one, and although I know that legally I might have the right of way, I’m not sure that all motorists abide by this. If a vehicle or bike is traveling too quickly and silently for me to hear the sound, I doubt that my white cane would make any difference.

So, I’m not sure that this post will make any dent in the advent of electric vehicles and the hazard they might pose for those of us who rely more on sound than sight, but my little rant has helped me to unwind. Thank you for listening.

April 19 - What Can I See?

It’s hard to describe what it is that I see. For one thing, I see differently at different times and in different places. This all depends on ...well, I’m not sure what exactly it depends on. Let me try to explain.

When I go for an eye exam, my optometrist tells me that she measures my sight by my ability to count fingers. This usually occurs in the dimly lit exam room after she has already shone a super bright light towards my retinas. Truthfully, I am lucky if I see well enough to actually be able to count the fingers she is holding in front of me.

However, this sight measurement is totally inaccurate as to what I am able to see after I leave her office and enter the more brightly lit reception area. The change from dark to light or vice versa has an instant effect on what I am able to see. I am unable to see in the dark but good light makes a difference.

Changes in light happen in more subtle ways in the real world too. Last week, when I was walking along my regular path by the river, I could see almost nothing in front of me. The sun was shining and the shadows from the trees disguised the edges of the path. The snow had disappeared and the gray path blended into the dull brown grass along the edges. I walked slowly trusting my walking sticks to find the more solid asphalt of the trail.

Then the following day, I walked the same route again. Lyle was surprised that I had picked up my walking pace. This was because I could see so much better. The day was cloudy. There weren’t any shadows dancing around and there wasn’t any glare. The change in light had made a huge difference.

While changes in light make a difference to the way I see, changes in me also make a difference. If I am feeling unwell, I know that I don’t see as well. Perhaps this has something to do with my concentration. I know that if I am overtired, the same thing happens. I think that it does take more effort for a visually challenged person to get through the day than it does for a fully sighted person.

Then there is brain memory. In familiar surroundings, if I concentrate, I think that I can sort of see things that I know are there. Does this sound confusing? I know that I don’t quite understand the phenomenon. When I sit in my living room, I know that I can’t see the couch on the other side of the room or the picture on the wall. Yet, my brain tells me exactly what I know to be there and in a kind of weird way, I believe that I can actually see or perhaps visualize them.

So, what do I see? I suppose the answer depends on where I am and how I am feeling.