September 16 - Degree of Difficulty

I am nearly always ready to face new challenges but I think that sometimes it is the smaller things in life that are more likely to trip me up. For instance which of the following would you think would have the greater degree of difficulty for a visually impaired person?

a.  a journey of several thousand miles over a 24 hour time period and involving 2 separate flight segments.

b.  a taxi ride of only 2 or 3 kilometers and perhaps 10 minutes in duration.

Recently I experienced both of these so please let me tell you a bit more about each.

Ten days ago Lyle drove me to the airport to begin a flight from Canada to Australia. After I checked in Lyle secured a gate pass so that he could escort me right to the boarding area. From here I was escorted onto the plane and shown to my assigned seat. In Vancouver there was a similar process. I was guided from my first flight to the departure lounge for the second flight. During the course of both flights I received excellent consideration and courtesy from the Air Canada cabin crew. In Sydney ground crew helped me through customs and immigration and identified my luggage for me. I was then guided to the exit where my sister Jill was waiting for me. Although I initially had some nervous trepidation about the trip everything went like a breeze.

Now for trip B. A few days after my arrival in Australia I got sick and needed to make a doctor’s appointment. Because Jill was also unwell I needed to get to this appointment under my own steam. The taxi ride to the doctor’s office was not especially difficult. However the challenge came on the way home.

The receptionist called for the cab and alerted me when it arrived outside the office. She told me it was directly out the front door and there it would be. I stood with my white cane and proceeded out the door. I could not see a taxi. There seemed to be several dark coloured cars parked alongside the curb of a very busy road. I stood uncertain as to what I should be doing. There were butterflies in my tummy. At that point another patient rushed out of the medical centre, grabbed me by the elbow, propelled me forward between the parked cars where the taxi had double parked. It was all beyond my line of sight. The good Samaritan opened the cab door and bundled me inside somehow managing to do up my seatbelt in the process.

So, by now you might have guessed which of these two trips was more complicated for me - the marathon journey across the Pacific or the short jaunt by taxi. As I wrote, sometimes it is the seemingly simple tasks that are more confusing and pose a greater degree of difficulty. I am grateful to the good Samaritan who helped me find my taxi.