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.

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.

 

 

 

April 9 - White Cane Tips

If you read the title of this post, you might think that I am going to write about suggestions of how to use a white cane. Although I am sure that there are a number of such hints, this is not the case for today’s writing. Instead I want to talk about the tips, or ends, of white canes themselves.

My first white cane had a long pencil shaped tip. I would sweep the cane out to one side, and then as I stepped forward I would give it a slight lift and tap it on the other side of my path. I could feel through the handle of the cane if there were any obstacles in front of me. I would keep repeating this side-to-side tap tapping motion as I walked forward.

I didn’t especially like this cane. I found the constant slight lift awkward and tiring. I was glad when I was introduced to a different cane tip. This one was shaped and sized much like a marshmallow. The tip rolled fairly easily on the ground and I found it less tiring to use. Since that initial marshmallow tip I have seen others of a similar type. Once I saw a red tip the size of a tennis ball. I haven’t used that particular tip but thought that it looked heavier than I would like.

Then I met Steve. Lyle and I were wandering around Circular Quay in Sydney when Lyle noticed a man using a white cane with a curved tip. This was something new and of course I struck up a conversation with him.

It turned out that Steve Holyer was actually the blind engineer and inventor of this cane tip. The tip was shaped much like the end of a hockey stick but much slimmer. Steve wanted a cane tip that would travel more easily over different surfaces. He said that his invention did just that. It was also quieter than the ball tip. Steve said that the lessened noise of his curved cane tip made it easier to listen for other noises around him. He called his invention the HuJu, a combination of names of his grandsons.

Steve offered to let me hold and use his cane. He said that the HuJu tip was designed to fit on the end of a graphite Ambutech cane. These canes are already lighter to handle and I found that with the curve end it moved very smoothly over the concrete surface where we were standing. The HuJu tip is made of acetyl and is low friction, durable and strong. It does not dig into pavement cracks and potholes.

Since then, I have looked up Steve’s invention on the RNIB website. Steve lived in England and this was where the HuJu tip was introduced to white cane users. Comments on the web site indicated that the HuJu tip seemed to be more versatile than other cane tips. The one downside was that it was too easy to get it stuck in a drain or grate on the ground. To date, I haven’t seen the curved cane tip used in Canada. I wonder how it would fare over snow, although I imagine that it would move easily enough over ice.

Next time you see a person using a white cane, I encourage you to check out the tip, or end, of the cane.  Just as we who are blind aren’t all the same, neither are the white canes that we use.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 30 - At the Beach

Lyle and I often go to Australia. It is where I was born and I still have family living there. Mostly we like to go to Terrigal, a small beach town about an hour and a half north of Sydney. With our frequent trips to visit family, Terrigal has become much like a second home for us.

Originally we used to stay with my parents on these visits, but nowadays we stay in rented accommodation. We have tried out several rentals in the area but I like our most recent discovery the best. The building is only 1½ blocks from the beach. The very best part of this is that if I choose to do so, I am able to walk the distance without a sighted guide.

My favourite part of the day is early morning. There is a small coffee shop just across the road from the beach. I like to buy my coffee there and then cross the road to a bench overlooking the waves. Because I do this nearly every morning, the staff at the coffee shop know me by name and quickly fill my order, often jumping the line of other customers ahead of me. I wear my low vision badge and use my cane. Knowing my vision challenge, the staff will usually be quite careful in placing the take out coffee cup in my waiting hands.

There is a pedestrian crosswalk on the corner of the block and I am able to cross the street without problems. Pedestrians have the right of way in the crosswalk but I still tend to listen for approaching traffic.  From there I head to my usual spot by the sand.

The beach is always a busy place in the early morning. There is a promenade that leads from the surf club around the base of the rocks to the neighbouring beach. Weekends are especially crowded with people walking, jogging and exercising their canine companions.

On this last trip, our daughter and granddaughter were with us. While I drank my coffee, these two would clamber on the rocks, check out the height of the waves in the flagged beach area and then usually come back to me so that we could walk a bit together. My sister would often come to join us for these little excursions. It was all a lovely way to spend the morning.

There is a picture with this post. In it, I am sitting on the bench with Lexi. We have turned to look at the camera and the ocean is behind us. 

 

Sue and Lexi at the Beach

 

 

March 26 - Follow Up

This post is a follow up to the last one I wrote about accessibility and air travel. Our flight to Australia was good. I was given the appropriate safety briefings and I felt that the crew were aware of my vision challenges. Apparently though, I must have been miraculously cured while we were away and before our flight back to Canada. I say this facetiously of course as on our return, even though I was not recognized as having a sight impairment, my sight has remained the same.

On our return flight, for my part, I did everything I could to show that I was a visually impaired passenger. I registered on booking. I used my white cane and wore my low vision identity badge. I preboarded with other passengers who needed assistance. However, not once on the three legs of the return flight was I given the promised personal safety briefing.

I feel very strongly that all passengers on board a flight should know the location of emergency exits. I know that the airlines feel the same way and cabin crew are required to make sure that all passengers receive the appropriate safety briefings. For sighted passengers, this is usually done by showing a short video prior to take off. This doesn’t work for passengers who are blind and a personal verbal briefing is necessary.

Now you may think that I am making a bit of a fuss about all this but I feel it is a point worth making. On this trip I was travelling with family, so not alone. I have also travelled by air many times before so know generally what to expect. In addition, I know that I am capable of speaking up when I need to do so. I make the point for other blind or visually challenged passengers who might not be as comfortable in speaking up to request the promised and necessary assistance.

Lyle and I will be flying again in the summer. Once again I will be hoping for the cabin crew to fulfill the safety requirements for a blind or visually impaired passenger.

March 5 - Accessibility and Air Travel

When Lyle and I travel by air, we always register me as being visually impaired or legally blind. We feel that this is a safety issue. If ever anything was to go amiss, we would want the cabin crew to be aware of my sight challenges and be able to offer whatever assistance was appropriate.

Now while I have registered as a passenger with vision loss ever since my initial sight challenges, airlines have not been quite so consistent in their recognition of my disability. Although there have been some amazing times where flight crew have been super helpful, there have been other times where help is almost non existent.

I always make sure that I am registered correctly at the beginning of the flight, but I wonder what happens to the note when I actually board the aircraft. When a second leg of a flight occurs, Lyle and I sometimes joke that I must be miraculously cured. The designation of being visually impaired mysteriously vanishes.

This month, Lyle and I will be flying again. I was quite surprised when this past week I had an email from Air Canada. The email outlined what accessibility services I could expect during my flight. For instance, if I was travelling alone, I could request curbside assistance right when I arrived at the terminal. I could expect that help would be there to guide me to my boarding gate and onto the plane to find my seat. I could expect that I would receive directions to the washrooms and exits and how to operate any knobs and dials relevant to the seat itself. If there was to be a meal, flight attendants would be happy to explain what was on the meal tray.  As some airline food is almost unidentifiable even if a person can see, this latter assistance could prove very helpful. Most importantly, crew was required to give me personal directions about what to do in case of an emergency. Surprisingly, in my experience this safety briefing hasn’t always happened.

I am looking forward to our next flight and wondering if the flight crew and cabin attendants will adhere to the same accessibility list as was in my recent email from Air Canada. It would certainly make for a more positive travel experience for me.

 

February 20 - Looking Blind?

The other day I was out with a friend. We had been chatting about this and that. When we came to the parking lot - and yes, I was using my white cane, I had trouble picking out my friend’s car. Deb needed to point the vehicle out to me but as we got in, she said, “Sue, unless you remind me, I have trouble remembering that you can’t see.”

What a nice compliment! I know that for people who don’t know me, I have the appearance of someone who is blind or visually impaired. Once that assessment is made, those people treat me with my blindness as the most important aspect, so I was pleased when Deb saw past my vision loss to the part of me that was just a friend. My cane, and I think I might have also been wearing my low vision ID badge, melted into the background and our friendship and our conversation took over in the forefront.

I am pleased when the people who know me don’t see my vision loss as the most important part of me. This frequently happens with the people who know me best. Even though I might look blind or partially sighted, I like to feel that I am a whole person and my sight – or lack of it – is just one part of the whole.

February 8 - Seeing Faces

When I began writing this post, I debated the choice of several titles. At first I thought of Listening for Voices or even Hearing Voices. While both of these would have been somewhat correct, they maybe also implied a measure of mental instability. I thought about using the single word, Bluffing – but maybe readers wouldn’t connect with this strategy. In the end I decided on Seeing Faces. I am still not sure if this adequately covers the gist of this post. Perhaps I should have written the title, Not Seeing Faces. I will leave it to you the reader to decide on the best heading.

Here goes! When a person becomes blind or has very limited vision, certain changes are inevitable. For many, the two biggies are the inability to drive and the inability to see print. Both of these involve major life adjustments. However, for me, one of the biggest changes was that I wasn’t able to see faces. I still regret that I can’t see facial details or expressions.

At first, I tried to bluff my way through vision loss. The idea of bluffing is not an uncommon one. (Yes, that was one of the headings that I considered for this post.) Initially, I tried to cover up the fact that I couldn’t see. I’m not really sure why I did this. I had quite a few little tricks that I would use hoping that others wouldn’t suspect that I was different in any way.

One of these bluffs was to try to look directly at people when they were speaking with me. This was a good deception but it also meant that because I have no central vision, I could see absolutely nothing of the person’s face right in front of me.

After the initial stage of bluffing, I then tried the technique of moving my head to different angles to see if I could catch a glimpse of someone’s face. This was awkward as the best angle for me was to tip my head backward and try to look from the bottom part of my left eye. The movement was physically exhausting for me and no doubt confusing for any sighted person who was conversing with me at the time.

Then I met Bert. Bert was completely without sight. He said that it didn’t matter at what angle he held his head he still couldn’t see. So, he decided to make a conscientious effort to look directly at the person he was speaking with. He explained that while this took little effort on his part, it did serve to make the other person more comfortable. This is the attitude I decided to adopt.

Actually, the idea of following someone’s voice as an indicator of where they are has become somewhat of a habit and a skill. I can usually tell if the person is sitting or standing. As long as they are speaking, I can tell if they are moving around. I try to focus my eyes towards the direction of their voice. The hard part is when someone in a group stays silent or even leaves the room. In familiar settings, I am often able to hear who is speaking. Nevertheless, it is always helpful when the people who are present identify themselves.

So, what do you think that the title of this post should be? I have given it the heading of Seeing Faces, but maybe you can use your judgment for an alternative title.

January 22 - Blind Assumptions

Sometimes, it is easy to make assumptions about other people. Why, just the other day, I ran into a friend I used to meet on the local walking trail. She had noticed that I hadn’t been walking lately and confronted me with the comment – “You haven’t been walking. You were sick? How are you feeling now?

There has been a lot of flu and illness around, so I suppose it was easy enough to assume that I had been ill. I’m not sure why it made a difference, but I hastened to assure this person that I hadn’t been ill but rather that I had been injured.

All this made me think of the many assumptions that some people make when they encounter someone who is blind or obviously vision impaired. In the past I have encountered persons who held these false assumptions. Knowing that I cannot see, the person might begin speaking to me in a very loud voice. Do they presume that because I cannot see, I must also be hard of hearing?  Sometimes, the stranger might begin speaking very slowly as if to someone who is intellectually challenged. This is another assumption.

Not all conclusions are as blatant as these. I think that one that amuses me is the blank look on the face of a flight attendant when I ask for a glass of wine. It’s almost as if he/she is saying ...but you are blind! Are you meaning to tell me that you also drink alcohol?

I also shake my head when in a group I join the discussion about a recent book or film or news article. Is it surprise in their voices that I hear? Should I tell them that people who are blind also read, go to the movies and keep up with current events?

At the beginning of my journey with vision loss, I used to be quite irritated by these assumptions about blindness. These days, I try to take it with a grain of salt and use any comments as an opportunity to educate people who are sighted.

January 11 - White Canes

Did you know that there are different types of white canes? On the surface they all serve the same purpose, that is to identify the user as someone who is blind or visually impaired.  For many years, I have been using a Mobility cane, but for the last several weeks I have needed to resort to a support cane. Although they are both white, the two canes are very different.

I began using a support cane last month after I took a tumble. Although I didn’t break any bones when I fell, I think that I sprained every muscle and tendon in my lower back. I found it incredibly difficult and painful to stand, much less to walk. I needed support. My mobility cane didn’t do the trick. It wasn’t substantial enough.

As the name implies, a support cane is sturdy. It comes in one strong length. I have used this cane in the house to help me move about. It has also been somewhat useful when I have been in other flat surface buildings such as the local grocery store. I say somewhat useful because the support cane, unlike the mobility cane, doesn’t give me any anticipation of what might be in front of me.

A mobility cane stretches out in front of the user. When I hold this cane in front of me, I can usually detect obstacles in my path. I sweep the cane in front of me and it becomes my eyes, clearing the path ahead. This isn’t possible with the support cane, which is used in an upright position.

A mobility cane is also handier to carry than a support cane. When I’m not using the mobility cane, I can fold it up into sections and leave it on my lap or some other unobtrusive place. A support cane doesn’t fold.

I think that the other disadvantage to a support cane as opposed to a mobility cane is that it isn’t as easily recognized by other people. Yes, I know that the support cane is white, but it doesn’t stand out as distinctly as the long white mobility cane.

I am hopeful that my back will continue to improve. I am exercising and hoping that I will soon regain my former strength and balance so that I can go back to using my very helpful mobility cane.

There are two pictures with this post. In the first I am standing with a support cane. In the second I am standing with my mobility cane. 

 

Sue with support cane

 

Sue with mobility cane