Time Off For Good Behaviour

Tags

Animals, Dog, Guide Dog, Labradoodle, Mobility, Thanks

Do you promise I only have a few more shifts to go until the holidays?

I know that is what he is thinking as I have been promising him this time off for a long time. The beauty of working in schools is that we have a lot of holidays which suits Munch just fine. He was put on this earth for many things such as giving and receiving an abundance of love, being a constant source of entertainment, training people to pander to his needs but work? ……not so much.

Most of his workday is spent laying around on his bed, client’s feet or in a corner in a huff. When he is not in his horizontal hibernation, he can be found playing with his toys, giving a client his paw to demand attention or doing the dying fly impersonation on the floor to centre all attention around his dramatic display. Keeping all of that in mind, I use the word work in the loosest of terms in relation to Munch.

He is even more excited this year as he has an extra week off than our usual 6 weeks so 7 weeks of off duty fun awaits him. When he will be running around freely on a field somewhere or swimming in a river, I will be slightly out of action with a healing knee after the upcoming operation that is happening in 2 weeks-time. I cannot wait to hear from his dog walkers what mischief he gets up to on his days out.

Everything is planned out to make sure that he has the most fun summer ever. A timetable of fun awaits him whilst I may be stuck indoors for a little while. I have a feeling that as he hangs up his harness for a few weeks he will have no regret, only happiness coursing through his body. I cannot wait to sense how happy he is each time he is brought home with a tired-out body and his bank of joy filled up.

Healing from the operation will be much easier if I know everyone is taken care of. The children are all sorted, and I know will be a great help. Angus and Faith will be happy doing their own cat and tortoise thing, but it is Munch who I have been most concerned about. Will he unlearn his guide dog commands when he is off? Will he have a tantrum when his harness goes back om him in a few weeks? Will he demand new working conditions when he returns to his role when I am more mobile?

I know that even when I am on crutches whilst wearing a Robocopesque leg brace, we will learn to listen to each other and work as partners in our own unique way. Munch is rather a fan of the slower pace of life, so I don’t think my new pace of walking will annoy him too much. A pocket full of treats and lots of fuss and praise may help soften his heart when he returns to a slower pace of work life.

I will keep you all posted on his summer escapades which will no doubt bring a smile or two to your face. The harness free pics will hopefully show his fun off duty summer that he deserves so much. Let the fun begin.

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Judge, And You May Need An Umbrella

Tags

Blind, Disability, Dog, Education, Guide Dog, Life lessons, Mobility

Call me pedantic but I really didn’t fancy getting my foot wedged down the toilet again.
After last year’s faux pas of attempting to delicately step over Munch in the toilet cubical and ending up slipping and dipping my toes into what I hoped was clean H2O in the bottom of a Tesco’s toilet, I have been a little wary of our ability to fit into a standard size toilet cubicle. Now, I love Munch dearly, but I often wonder if his dipsey ways are from being away with the fairies or just a sneaky plan of watching on in glee as my mishaps multiply. The day in question, he appeared not to understand the “come on sugar cube, forward” that I used to coax him into getting his pony like body into cubicle, hence my slip and dip routine where my foot decided to dive into the toilet as I clumsily clambered over him. In all fairness, as soon as he heard the splash, he came alive and turned around and closed the door with his nose. If I had functional vision, I swear I would have seen his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Sorry, I am digressing from my original point. It is virtually impossible for me and lofty Munch to fit into standard size toilet cubicle accident free, so we sometimes need to use the disabled toilets if the standard ones aren’t large enough.
A few weeks ago, when we successfully emerged from a disabled toilet with dry feet, I was happy. That is until an irate woman snarled at me as I walked out. “You do know that this is a disabled toilet don’t you” she seethed. Me being as vacant as ever replied “Yeah I know” with matching puzzlement in my voice and probably my face, “You shouldn’t be using it should you” Chirpy Cheryl chastised. “Do you actually have a disability?” Chirpy Cheryl huffed, puffed and tutted with raised blood pressure. “What?” the childish me snapped back. As I heard the pennies fall in her head, Chirpy Cheryl did become chirpy as she started to apologize profusely for not noticing 31 inch high Munch. This not looking blind malarkey did not half get me into trouble. Chirpy Cheryl would not be the first nor the last to jump to the conclusion of what a disability does and does not look like. My daughter who was waiting outside the toilet heard the conversation and we talked about it afterwards. The accuser of the “queue jumping non-disabled person” herself did not appear to have any external clues of a disability but we did not think about questioning her about her entitlement of using the disabled toilet as our minds were not confined in such a narrow space.
Call me bad minded but I think Chirpy Cheryl has many like-minded friends around the place who also like to question your entitlement to join them in disabled facilities. Being blissfully blind to most things around me, I never see the judgement on other people’s faces but people who I am with at the time do. Parking in a disabled car parking spot the other day, we were bitterly embraced by Cranky Colin who we parked next to us in a disabled bay. As my daughter merrily popped my Blue Badge on the dashboard, she commented that Cranky Colin’s scowl towards us was intensifying. As we gathered our things together to get out, my daughter told me that Cranky Colin had suddenly transformed into an owl as he whipped his head around to watch us go to the boot to get Munch out. Even as we walked away on the pedestrian area in front of the car, I was told he was still glaring and had added a few head shakes and I am sure I felt some heat seeking missiles being aimed at my back. I mean if someone is walking with a Guide Dog and has a blue badge, it is fair to say that they can use a disabled parking spot. The Chirpy Cheryls and Cranky Colins in the world maybe should rethink the judging that they do. People who have disabilities and health conditions that require disabled facilities themselves surely realize that empathy is a far better option that hostility.
Unless we have x-ray vision and a medical degree, let’s not pretend to be experts on how hidden disabilities and health conditions affect people. Surely the Chirpy Cheryls and Cranky Colins in the world that themselves live with health issues should know what it is like to be judged. Tuts, headshakes and snappy comments will always say more about the one making them and little about the person they are directed at. Chirpy Cheryls and Cranky Colins may always exist but we can always take steps to educate them. Failing that, we can always send loving unicorns their way and hope their glittery poop that they drop from overhead adds some sparkle to their dull lives. Love and splattering’s Cheryl and Colin X.

My Furry Healer

Tags

Dog, Guide Dog, Healer, Healing, Humour, Marfan Syndrome, Mobility

Peering lovingly down at my furry footwarmer, I should have guessed something was up. On numerous occasions over the years, Munch and my sweet rescue cat Angus have laid across different parts of my body healing me where I didn’t even know I needed it. I love how animals can sense things in the human body before even the human can. Four years ago, before I was hospitalized with pneumonia, Angus and his brother Arnold took it in turns to lay by my feet and head and act as a healing channel even before I knew that I was ill. They had never done it before and never did it afterwards,
This time it was Munch’s turn to take on the role of healer. Throughout the day in work he lay on my foot back and forth and in the night, he came to bed and lay his head on my knee. It was a little odd for him as usually he expects me to do the running when it comes to showing affection. The following day, when sorting out the mountain of laundry, I walked into the side of an armchair and my patella began sliding out of its comfy place like a safety chain on a door lock. Luckily, I realized what was happening and straightened my leg to prevent yet another dislocation. Seven times on one joint was enough and I was willing to do anything to avoid the eighth.

If you have had a dislocation in the past, you will know how painful they can be. I have had numerous breaks, fractures, ligament damage soft tissue damage and most other things in the past but the numerous dislocations that have graced my body are probably the most painful. The joys of Marfan Syndrome are that the unexpected always seems to be the host of surprise parties when it comes to your body. When the Fibrillin 1 throughout your body decides that it fancies mixing it up a bit, guaranteed a hospital visit will be on the cards. Some Marfan patients are luckier than others but clumsy ones like me always seem to draw the comical short straw.

One of the worse things about a quick trip to the A&E department I have found is the explaining to hospital staff how it happened which can be more painful than the actual injury. Regarding my frequent patella dislocations, I have had to explain many scenarios from how I slipped in the shower (washing off dog poo that I had just slipped in whilst out walking), to dislocating it after playing keepy uppies with a balloon in work, to falling over a chair whilst demonstrating laughter yoga to 35 teenagers. The other times in between you really don’t want to know. Telling the hospital staff that I put it back into place myself and do not need any pain relief as I am doing breathing techniques and unicorn meditations, only adds to the oddity of these visits.

Luckily this time however, I managed to keep my patella secure as it is currently being supported by my one of many knee braces which range from Rococopesque to a more discreet version. Bizarrely, the day after this happened, I had a letter from the hospital offering me an appointment for my pre-assessment for my knee reconstruction early next year. I had already cancelled it once as I stupidly thought that my patella had become quite comfy where it was meant to reside but the soft tissue around it that is currently having a pity party and has tantrums when I weight bare, has different ideas. It looks like I may have to go ahead with it and add to my collection of Marfan Syndrome related operations.
This sounds like a start of a classic joke though as I wonder how the heck I am going to get around.

I have been in a full leg case three times and got it stuck between the passenger seats of a car twice and between my bed and the wall to name but a few examples. Clumsy is my natural mode to operate in so I am not sure how this operation malarkey will pan out. Apparently, I will be back walking in two weeks but will remain in a leg brace for three months due to the unpredictability of the Marfan’s make-up and my previous history. I have a sneaky feeling that when I am back in work and in the swing of everyday life, a boisterous guide dog, crutches, a leg brace and numerous bags for work may end up like a game of Buckaroo, where my pantomime like donkey grace will provide hours of entertainment.

Let’s hope my furry healing footwarmer and his co-worker Angus are on hand for the after affects of my comedy show. I think I may need them.

The Guide Of My Life

Tags

Animal, Children, Dog, Education, Freedom, Gratitude, Guide Dog, Kindness, Labels, Labradoodle, Love, Mobility, Thanks

The day was over. I could tell that he was relieved to be on the way home after a long week of guiding me around new places. Directions had never been my strong point but since loosing even more sight it had got worse. On duty Minster guided me away from the wrong turning yet again and led us into the right corridor. To the pattern loving sighted person, identical looking corridors must be ideal but to me it was a living nightmare. With no breaks in the monotonous blurry coloured walls from any shadowy landmarks, the labyrinth of alien newness seemed to continue for miles. Lucky for me Minster’s good memory kept us from getting lost.

This week, we had worked in three different secondary schools with a total of over 2,000 pupils. Finding my way to the schools was difficult enough with different routes and different modes of transport each day due to their locations. Walks, buses, taxis and trains all got us to where we needed to be. For a six-hour working day, we are out of the house for an average of eleven hours, but we have no choice as going directly by a unicorn is just not available to us unfortunately. Getting there is just the start of our day of moving around in hopeful bliss.

When off duty Munch becomes on duty Minster, he becomes the brains in our partnership. When we are shown the way through the school to our room he will remember it next time around with no hesitation. He then puts up with my dithering as I am convinced we need to go the wrong way but he stands his ground and leads us the proper way. He dodges the hazy mass of pupil traffic speeding towards us and leads me safely to the place that I would never be able to find alone. When on duty, he works so hard and never complains, he really is the magical reason that I can continue to work.

Hoovering up the dropped bits of food along the way and adoration from his surrounding fans tends to be the motivation that he needs to get him through the marathon of his working week. When his harness is slipped off when we enter our room, his Munch like qualities spring to life as he actively seeks mischief to cause. Greeting our clients with open paws and a toy to play with, he shakes off his professional persona and gets ready for some fun. Having a dog in the school has such a positive effect on the pupils and teachers alike as they gently stream in for a bit of the Minster Munch magic.

Each day when we leave work, I look forward to getting in so that Minster can transform into the Munch that we all know and love. Within minutes of entering the house I know he will be winding Angus the cat up, stealing my gorgeous granddaughter’s toys and running off with shoes. I really don’t mind one bit as he deserves to have downtime just like any one of us. After his funny five minutes hurtling around the house he will settle down for a cuddle. I hope that the thank you that I whisper into his ears each night, conveys how much I appreciate him. He is the guide of my life that I will always love unconditionally and will never stop appreciating.