June 30 - Blind in Hospital

Life is full of surprises. Unfortunately, they aren’t all good surprises. Two weeks ago and out of the blue, I ended up in the emergency room of our local hospital. It turned out that I had had a small stroke.

God was looking after me that day. After an initial examination, I was sent on to the larger city hospital. The series of tests that followed – blood work, an ECG, a CT scan and an MRI – was all a bit of a blur. I didn’t have to think much – just go in whatever direction I was pushed. Lyle was with me when we met with the neurologist. It turned out that the stroke had seemingly only affected my speech. Within hours, I was admitted to the Stroke Ward. To be admitted so quickly was a miracle in itself.

For the next two days, I was monitored fairly closely. Each time there was a change in staff, Lyle was there to make sure that they knew of my sight challenges. It was too difficult to pin my low vision ID badge to my hospital gown and I didn’t need my white cane while I was in a wheel chair. We needed to advocate for ourselves if there was to be any special assistance.

On the third night, I was transferred to the Rehabilitation Unit. This was the most confusing part of my hospital stay. Lyle had gone home for the night and I was quite disoriented in my new surroundings. The next morning, I needed a guide to lead me to the dining area and find a vacant spot at a table. I felt helpless, a feeling I hadn’t experienced since my initial vision loss those many years ago now. It was a relief when Lyle arrived later in the morning to orient me to the new room. As I was now able to dress in street clothes, he also brought two of my ID badges and several of my cards with this blog address. With my new hesitant speech, I found it both difficult and exhausting to try to explain to staff that my vision loss had nothing to do with the stroke.

I am home again now and waiting to begin speech therapy. I also have several more medical appointments lined up. Hopefully the worst is over and I can begin recovery.

In retrospect, I am looking back to my hospital stay as an opportunity to educate hospital staff personnel – technicians, nurses and yes, even doctors – as to the need, challenges, and also the capabilities and abilities of someone who is visually impaired or legally blind. I hope that I have done a good job with this. Although I didn’t ask for this opportunity, I hope that in some small way I have paved the way for other blind or visually impaired people who might find themselves as hospital patients.

June 25 - Seeing Colour

We were at a function when a friend said to me, "I really like that shade of purple you’re wearing." I had to stop myself from turning around. Could this friend be talking to me? I had always thought that the blouse I was wearing was pink!

I find it difficult to distinguish between various shades of colour. Obviously, I don’t do well with pink and purple, but differences between black, navy and brown and even dark green are also hard to tell apart. I know that it doesn’t really matter what colours I am wearing, but I do try to match.

How do I overcome this? Well, in my wardrobe I hang matching colours together. For instance, with my navy pants, I hang any blue toned blouses or jackets. The trick then is to put the clothes back on the corresponding hangers after they have been worn.

In the beginning stages of my vision loss, I used to fret about matching socks. Again, it was the difference between black, brown and navy or white versus beige. My friend Norma told me how she solved the problem. At that stage, she did have some limited sight, so she only bought either black or white socks and always of the same brand.

I have followed this advice. As Norma told me – “Hardly anyone ever looks at the colour of socks anyway.”

The other day, Chelsea and I were laughing about the times we have worn mismatched shoes or sandals. The key here is storage and organization. It is helpful to replace a pair of shoes together. That way they are there when next you go to look for them.

While all this sounds very simple, it is easy enough to be rushed when a person is busy. The lesson is to take the extra minutes to be organized. When a person can’t see to look for lost or misplaced items or colours, it is even more important to take those few extra minutes to be organized.  

The last word – if you do happen to mess up, you can always say that it’s just a fashion statement!

June 17 - Blind or Partially Sighted

So, did you think about the question from my last post? In your mind’s eye, what do you see when you think of someone who is blind or partially sighted?

In my adolescent years, we lived near the office of Vision Australia. Sometimes at the railway station I would catch sight of people who were blind coming or going from there. In my memory, they were nearly all young or middle aged men. I knew they were blind because they wore dark glasses and used white canes. I don’t recall seeing any person with a guide dog.

Until my own sight challenges, this was my image of what a blind person looked like – a male wearing dark glasses and using a white cane. I had never even heard the current politically correct term “partially sighted”.

This image has undergone a considerable change since my own vision loss. Personal connections with other people who have diminished sight has expanded and improved my original and misinformed perception. People who are blind or partially sighted come in all shapes and sizes and from many varied backgrounds. Blindness doesn’t discriminate when it comes to age, race or gender.

This became very clear to me when Lyle and I undertook our series of white cane walks across Canada. In the course of those walks we encountered literally hundreds of people who were coping with the challenges of vision loss. Some used a white cane, some were guided with their hand tucked to the elbow of a friend or family member. A few were assisted by a guide dog. The youngest participant on our walks was a four-year old boy. The oldest was a ninety-nine year old woman. We didn’t require any registration for our walks so we were never sure just who would come to participate.

I do remember a walk at Sault Saint Marie. We had arrived early and were waiting by the water when a group of well-dressed men arrived – all wearing dark glasses. Was this to be our group for the day’s walk? As it turned out – no! This was simply a group of business men ready to join a function on a waiting boat launch. Unless you are paying attention or know who to expect, there really isn’t much difference in the physical appearance of someone who is blind from someone who is fully sighted.

So, what does a blind person look like? There is no one answer. Without the accompanying cane or dog-guide, someone who can’t see could look like anyone else. There is no one defining physical feature.  Perhaps that is why I use my white cane or wear my low vision ID badge. There are some situations when it is helpful for me to be identified as a person with a visual challenge.

 

 

 

June 8 – Here’s Looking At You

Mark and I were chatting about the various aspects of blindness, when he looked at me and said, “You know, if I didn’t know that you couldn’t see, I wouldn’t know that you couldn’t see.”

This outward appearance of being sighted even when the opposite is true, is one of the more interesting aspects of blindness. It is also likely one of the more confusing aspects that confront people who  themselves are able to see. If my eyes look the same on the outside, how can it be that I can’t see from the inside looking out?

When Mark made the above comment, we had been talking together for a little bit already. We were sitting in comfortable chairs with no need to move about. My white cane wasn’t visible. There wasn’t anything that I needed to read or have read to me. There wasn’t any outward sign of my sight challenges. We were just two people having a chat.

As is my usual practice, I had been trying to “look” at Mark as he spoke. I remember another completely blind friend telling me that this is what he tried to do. He couldn’t see, but if it made the other person more comfortable in the conversation he would try to focus on the direction of the voice. To me this made sense and generally speaking I try to do just that.

I think that is what had Mark fooled. I wasn’t trying to hide my vision loss, but there was no need to show it either. Mark’s observation led to another interesting topic. What does it look like to be blind?  Do you have a picture in your head of what a blind person “looks like”? Perhaps this is a topic I can explore in another post.In the meantime – Here’s Looking At You!