The Funhouse Of Mirrors

Tags

Blessings, Blind, Life lessons, Sight Loss, Visual Impairement

The scariest time in my life was when I could see. Well, I say see but maybe I mean see more. OK, so maybe the right term is that I could see something in a little bit of focus. Thinking about it, focus is such a strong word to use here. Sorry am I confusing you? Let me start at the beginning.

There I was sitting in the ophthalmologist’s office nine months after having a cataract operation that did more harm than good but c’est la vie. “The thing is, although it is quite fun walking around like I am looking through a distorted version of Funhouse mirrors, I cannot carry on like this. The lack of depth perception is causing me more injuries than before and looking at out of proportion objects is pretty scary if I am honest” I joked with the blurry stretched man in front of me. He abruptly
answered “we need to give it more time”. “Nine months is enough time, I want it removed” I answered matching his tone.
This stubborn standoff had been going on since I had my cataract operation 9 months earlier and it was long overdue to be resolved. Since this alien object had been placed in my eye, nothing but tantrums and melt-downs had happened in the ocular area with post-operative inflammation and Edema on the retina being the main instigators of the uprising in my eye. I was now requesting an eviction notice to these angry duo as I could no longer deal with their nonsense. So here I was pleading with this nine-foot-tall, egg timer shaped blur in front of me in the hospital room who sat on the rugby ball shaped fuzzy chair. Daily entry into the Funhouse of mirrors really needed to be a thing of the past.

My mule like pig-headedness paid off and I was back in the operating theatre removing the mischievous lens that they had implanted, and I was left lens free and back to being able to live my normal double vision, fuzzy life that I always felt safe in. It seemed that everyone around me felt sorry for me that I was becoming “broken” again after the operation was not able to help me, but I felt a different way about it. I had never felt broken before due to my sight loss, it was just normal. Medical staff and everyone around me seemed to be tempting me into the world of the sighted to “fix” the way that I had been since birth.

When I entered the semi sighted world for that brief amount of time however, life was far from rosy.
I went from seeing birds as gargantuan shape shifters instead of mythical creature that I had never seen, to not being able to reach out to an object in front of me due to the immense difference in depth perceptions in both eyes. Vague faces became things that I could kind of make out but didn’t always match my version of them that I had been carrying around in my head for years. I noticed myself judging things in other people that I had no right to judge, as I began using my eyes alone to absorb my environment and ignored my other senses. I knew that this was not the world that the fully sighted saw as everything was out of proportion and seemed to be the wobbly bridge between the sighted and sight loss world. I was so relieved when I got off this wobbly bridge and returned to the sight loss world with less sight but more confidence.

Seeing the beauty in life cannot be seen through the eyes alone but they can be a magical tool in appreciating the world around us. My time in the Funhouse of mirrors taught me many things and I am glad I had a chance to play around in it for a while. There is always a light-hearted view available in uncertain times of transition if you search hard enough.

My Face Recognition Device

Tags

Animal, Blind, Dog, Great teacher, Guide Dog, Happiness, Labradoodle, Pets, Sight Loss, Unconditional Love, Unique, Visual Impairement

Faces have always been a mystery to me as I have never been able to see them unless close up in pictures. This is only possible if I can inspect the detail in the picture at a nose length away. Recognising people has always come from other clues. From hearing their distinct voice to hearing their unique footsteps and every imaginable sensory subtlety in between, seeing people has always been possible through ingrained memory as apposed to ease. When my four children were babies, I could see their general appearance when I held them in my arms but as soon as they became to big to hold, they became too far away to see. This is the only time that it ever really mattered to me.

Having four children under the age of six meant that at various times they all became similar heights so recognising them became harder as time went on and I had to be vigilant in the clothes that they wore to help distinguish them from one another. As my eyesight deteriorated even more, I began wondering how I was going to use my methods of deductions to distinguish between masses of similar looking blurs. My solution came in the form of a nosey, fan seeking, intelligent face recognising device a.k.a. my Guide Dog, Minster Munch. He only needs to see a face once to be able to memorize, categorize and prioritize that face into his elephant like memory system.

The memorizing is probably the easiest part of the process for him. He has this ability to leave an impression on the people he meets and therefore he memorizes the reactions that he initially receives. He memorizes the exact location that these people can usually be found, whether it be in certain shops or houses. Next comes the categorization of these new found faces. Categories include the easily manipulated ones, the dog treat carriers, the eager doggy kiss receivers, the chin stokers, the non-fussed and his fun time walkers. The prioritizing of these faces then depends on the mood that he is in on that day. If he is after a free run with one of the fun time walkers then he may bypass an easily manipulated one to meet his need on that given day. This Face Recognition talent works wonders for both him and I.

As he begins to quicken his pace towards an oncoming blur, I know that it is someone we know. The pace of his quicken strides gives me an indication of how well known they are to us. If it is someone that is close family or a friend, he may also begin to get a little bit excited, whining to alert me that the loved one is near. I love this about him as although he may be more interested in what he can gain from his oncoming friend, he is linking me to the sighted world which has always been impossible for me to do alone. Without him, the faceless blurs I love living amongst, remain a mystery to me. He has now become my eyes that I have never properly seen through. This Face Recognizing Device will always be one of my favourite gifts that I have been given, and he only requires treats, fuss and love to run on. How amazing is that?

Excuse Me, I Think You Are Sitting On My Throne.

Tags

Animal, Blind, Dog, Guide Dog, Hidden Disability, Humour, Individuality, Labradoodle, Pets, Sight Loss, Unconditional Love, Unique, Visual Impairement

There are some people who seem to fill up a room with charisma as soon as they step foot inside. You must have met the type. You know, the ones with a booming voice, a radiant smile or just a magnetic energy about them. Well, Munch has that effect on a lot of people he meets but I often wonder if it is for the right reason. From having a random Selfie with a group of young girls in a lift, to causing a trolley traffic jam in a local supermarket from his admirers, he rarely enters a place discreetly. His ingrained sense of entitlement comes from not only his Poodle like traits, but I am sure he has a past life memory of being a king and therefore requires everyone to be upstanding for him upon entering a place. I, just a mere maid to his regal ways just hang my head in shame.

As we got on a bus a few days ago, he began gliding down the aisle with the grace of a model. As the “Ooohs” and the “Aaahs” began coming from all directions from the eager spectators, he slowed down for the odd pat from all directions whilst being in model harness clad Guide Dog mode. A new-found fan offered to give up a seat in the front for us to sit down but as he is so big it is easier for us to go in the back, so he can trip up less people. As I thanked the kind lady for the offer but declined, I was about to set off to the back when I realized Munch had sat down in front of this lady and was cuddling in for some fuss. After some persuasion I managed to move him on from this heartbroken fan to find a more spacious seat for us. The same thing happened a few rows back when a lovely man offered to move seats as there was more leg room in his. As the man patted the seat he was on when offering to move, Munch took this as a sign to jump up on the seat to sit next to the man and dive in for a sloppy kiss. As some laughter erupted from some passengers, Munch span his head around to look at his audience and played along even more as I stood holding his harness and lead. Just to clarify, normal Guide Dogs don’t do that as they know they are meant to remain on the floor, but Munch was in full acting mode that day.

After finally getting the Pampered Pooch to get off the mans seat, we made it to the back of the bus and found a suitable place for his to be able to lie down and stretch out. Despite me spending quite a few minutes gently explaining to him he is not allowed on seats and why we needed to come up the back, it was obvious he was still not going to pardon me for not letting him choose his own throne. In the end, when I removed his harness he ended up stretching out on the floor from our seat, across the aisle and onto the feet of a generous man who had given him a bit of chicken so was now his best friend. Such a regal being should have the pick of his thrones, I will have to learn to treat him better.

The Beauty of Writing Whilst Blind

Tags

Animal, Blind, Kindness, The World of Words, Visual Impairement, Writing

Falling into the world of the written word, is one of my favourite pastimes. It is a place that imagination thrives, and worries evaporate. This world of written thoughts, offers a sneaky peak into the mind of another. This is a place that should be accessible to all, yet this is not always the case. I love words so much as they hold so much intrinsic insights into the life of our sociable tribes, yet not only do I not have a clue about grammar and how it works but I cannot physically see the written word anymore. This however makes it even more alluring.

In childhood, I was never able to see blackboards or the old Over Head Projectors shining on a wall, so I never really knew what words looked like apart from as a double vision blur on a page, that I had to hold just in front of my nose to see. It was more guess work than precision that helped me to ‘read’ what these words said. This never stopped me from entering the world of The Famous Five and imagining escaping to a Mystery Moor with them. It took me ages to try and work out what the blurry words said, but words became so addictive to my inquisitive mind that I never got put off. Spelling Tests in school were memorized from auditory memory of the teacher spelling them out the first time they were introduced to us and not from the piece of paper that they were written on for us to learn for Homework. I may have never had full marks, but I loved these new words that were presented to us. This inability to see, never put me off education and in fact gave me motivation to study up until Masters level. I have always loved a good challenge in life.

What about those that have trouble with the written language for varying reasons though? Other individuals with Visual Impairment, Dyslexia, Reading Disorders, Communication Disorders, Learning Disabilities, or those who that have never had a chance to access education may not have this privilege. Individuals who try to communicate in another language than their native tongue, Auditory Processing Disorders and Executive Functioning Issues could all lead to many barriers being present between an individual and the world of words. These are the ones that the Grammar Police always seem to be out to get. If only they could stop in their ranting tracks to be able to compassionately care about the person writing the misspelt words, they could learn a thing or two about the beauty beyond words.

As my appalling spelling and grammar annoy the narky narrator on my laptop yet again, as the auditory form is how I read and write now, I feel blessed to have the opportunity to still be able to enter the world of words despite not being able to see. Transitioning form Partial Sight into Blindness has been humbling. I value words more now than I ever have and appreciate their power. We are not all blessed with the ability to express ourselves with perfect grammar, but for those of us who are, keep those words positive. Spare a thought for those who would love to write with perfection yet for whatever reason can find it an impossible task. Everybody should have a right to fall in love with the world of words, so if you know anyone who needs a little help entering this magical place, do whatever you can to help. Your belief in them could change their life for ever.

The Guide Dog Trilogy

Tags

Animal, Blind, Dog, Guide Dog, Happiness, Hidden Disability, Individuality, Labradoodle, Pets, Sight Loss, Unique, Visual Impairement, Work And Play

If Munch and I had to describe our lives with a quote it would be the wise old saying “The only permanence in life is impermanence”. When matching a Guide Dog to a potential Guide Dog user, the personality, needs, adaptability and lifestyle of both are carefully considered to enable a perfect match. Our match was a match made in heaven as my spontaneity and varied life paired perfectly with his desire to conquer every corner in a thirty-mile radius. Where many Guide Dogs take a while to get used to one route, Munch memorizes them instantly. Each day I try to vary our routes as much as possible to keep both our brains from becoming stale.

After his morning body massage and breakfast yesterday, we decided to go shopping. After a 30-minute car journey to get to the nearest city, Munch sprung out of the car, following his inquisitive nose in hope of a day of freedom. When he saw his works harness he pouted slightly knowing that he had to work. His displeased demeanour soon changed as some new fans began to stop him in the street to tell him how handsome he was. His satellite like ears have alerted him to the fact that when his fans use the words “Handsome, beautiful, unusual looking, unique, stunning, gorgeous” and many other words then this is the point that the ice has broken, and a friendly pat will soon follow. He is the one that usually causes the distraction of others not the other way around.

Leaving his trail of admirers behind, he carried on until he noticed one of his kind pulling towards him. I was wondering why he was pulling so much but when I heard a dog friendly voice saying “Look, its another Guide Dog” I knew that one of his work colleagues were close. As both dogs sniffed and pulled to greet each other affectionately, the owner told us that it was his late wife’s retired Guide Dog that he had with him. He spoke lovingly for a while about his late wife and how he had chosen to keep her Guide Dog as she felt like a member of the family and could not face loosing her too. Within his grief-stricken voice, it was clear that he valued meeting a fellow Guide Dos user as there is sense of belonging to this welcoming yet often isolated community.

After Munch had his routine sniffs in some doggy aisles in shops, we headed home. On the way home, we stopped to give him a bit of a run, so he could leave off his pent up impish energy. As I walked with my white cane, I hooked his harness over my shoulder and was stopped by someone who said he was a fundraiser and campaigner for Guide Dogs. We had a lovely long chat about the stories of his 15 years of work with them as Munch ran around like a tornado.

After bribing Munch back in the car with a treat or 5, we headed off to the local supermarket. As soon as we entered, a familiar voice came to talk to us. It was one of our friends from the Visual Impairment support group who was waiting to be allocated a guide dog himself. We got talking about my “Unusual” Guide Dog who he fell in love with when they first met. As Munch dived in for some fuss, he told me that he was still waiting for his Guide Dog 2 years on. He is such a funny, unique, sociable man and we concluded that the dog that they matched with him would be as quirky as Munch so maybe they were creating a robotic dog to fit in with his extraordinary personality. It was nice however to give him hope and tell him that the long wait for a Guide Dog would be well worth it.

This day filled with synchronicity was a welcomed treat to a world where you can sometimes feel detached from the walking blurs around you. Munch has masses of attention wherever he goes which is lovely but meeting others who understand the work that these astonishing animals do is rare. I can go weeks without meeting anyone who understand the magic that these dogs bring into a persons’ life and then there are these London Bus Syndrome days where 3 come along at once. In one day the universe lined up the story of one knowledgeable soul needing to be compassionately heard, one old timer in the field and one patient man waiting to enter into this world of Guide Dog magic. It will be hard to beat this trilogy on our next spontaneous day out.

The Clumsy Patchwork Quilts

Tags

Animal, Blind, Dog, Great teacher, Guide Dog, Hidden Disability, Hiden Dissability, Humour, Individuality, Labradoodle, Pets, Sight Loss, Unconditional Love, Unique, Vision Impairment, Visual Impairement

Themes weave through life like a multicoloured patchwork quilt and not one persons is ever the same as the next. Many quilts are full of themes of excitement and adventure whilst others have a little more serenity about them. The day that my patchwork quilt met Minster Munch’s, it was clear to see that our quilts had many of the same themes. Many were positive, showed strength and then there were the other ones. I soon discovered that my clumsiness theme ran alongside his in perfect sync. Within this clumsy synced theme, we both developed the by-product of having the tendency to get stuck in the physical way. Combining both of our clumsy characteristics was a match made in heaven.

The photo in this blog was taken when Munch and I were staying in a hotel room whilst away at a weekend workshop. To keep us both amused we were playing ball in the room which on reflection was maybe not a good idea. As he scrambled under the bed to retrieve the ball, he got a little stuck. After what seemed like an age, I wondered what was taking him so long to come back out as he had dived in at speed. I had to take the photo to zoom in at the maximum level to see where he was and found him just lying there. He could not figure out a way of reversing out so just lay there until I lifted the bed for him to saunter out at his own pace whilst the bed was mid-air. After his third time of getting stuck under the bed that day I decided to put the ball away whereas most people would have after the first time. I learnt that day that his manoeuvring techniques may not have been at their best. I am sure they are only worsening over time too.

To be fair on him, getting stuck is sometimes just a matter of miscalculated judgments as he has obviously never learnt about angles and such. When he sees one of his loving fans, he likes to shoot between their legs for a cuddle. Apparently, this is common doggy behaviour which is lucky as I really didn’t want him getting some sort of restraining ban for inappropriate behaviour. Back to this angle thing. Munch had come with me to my Uncles funeral and after we had left the service we went to speak to the people who had attended. I was sat by my mother in the funeral and Munch bless him had been on his best behaviour, but he changed when he went outside as he could sense a more relaxed atmosphere. As he adores my mother so much, he dived in head first between her legs for his cuddle. The only problem was that my mother is only 4’ 11” with 25” inside legs and Munch is a rather tall dog. With the angle that he was at mixed with my mother s long skirt now shortened and stretched over his body, my mother could not escape. So, after he had finished his cuddle, he tried to move off but didn’t realise that even with my mother balancing on tip toes, escaping was a little difficult. Any onlookers would have seen the back of this petite lady’s body with a dog sticking out of between her legs. Not the most common sight in a funeral. As Minster Munch tried to move away he took my mother with him as she could not get off him. As he trotted off, my mother resembled a backward facing jockey holding on for dear life. It was okay thought as after we had finished laughing, we did manage to help lift her off as we kind of helped her tip to the angle she needed. This hasn’t put him off giving people cuddles in this way though, if anything it has made him to do it more.

These are just two examples of his ability to get stuck. Karma taught me recently though, not to mock him. Whilst out shopping I needed the toilet so we headed off to find them. As he is such a big dog he cannot normally fit into normal sized cubicles so sometimes we have to use the disabled toilet. This one time I thought the lady’s toilets were slightly bigger than normal and he would be okay in them. As he went into the cubicle first I tried to push past him I realized I had misjudged the size and realized we both wouldn’t get in. Ever the optimist I was determined to make this work so I stepped over him carefully. To make things easier I thought I would hover my foot above the toilet and pirouette around on my other leg to close the door. My un-ballerina like body had other ideas and my hovering foot made the biggest plop ever as it landed at a funny angle in the toilet bowl. On a plus side, Minster Munch managed to close the door with his nose, so the original plan had worked. As he turned his back on me and sighed loudly, I swear he was rolling his eyes too. I was now left trying to figure out how to get my foot out of the toilet. I had not long come out of a full leg cast after dislocating my knee and causing soft tissue damage for the umpteenth time, so I knew I could not just pull it out as I really didn’t fancy doing more damage to not only my knee but also a paramedic’s state of mind if I needed to call for help. After managing to balance on the cistern of the toilet with my other leg I gently persuaded it to come out with a promise to disinfect my foot when I got home.

As I squelched home, I vowed never to mock Munch’s issues with getting stuck again. Matching a clumsy woman with a clumsy Guide Dog means at least we have a colourful patchwork quilt together.

The Secret Blind

Tags

Blind, Hidden Disability, Hiden Dissability, Individuality, Positivity, Sight Loss, Unique, Vision Impairment, Visual Impairement, White Cane

If being blind meant you had to belong to a club, I would have been chucked out long ago. I am that member that would not only forgot to turn up to meetings, but I would also forget that I belonged to that club. Forgetting I cannot see is an occupational hazard of this professional daydreamer and I don’t think that will ever change. Many people ask how I forget that I am blind. It is so easy to do so as I have known no difference. When I pick up a book in a book shop and try and read the title, it is only then that I remember I cannot see it and wonder why I am in there in the first place. To be fair, it is usually because Minster Munch has fancied going in for a sniff and I follow. I must have the only shopaholic Guide Dog in the world.

Growing up I never really stopped to think that I could not see. I thought that although I could not read the blackboards or the old Overhead Projectors in school even when I was in the front row in class, I thought that there was no real problem. When I asked friends to whisper to me what the teacher had written, I thought this was normal. Learning to count doors along the corridor to get to the right one as I could not see numbers, helped me to get to where I needed to be. Learning exactly where products were in shops after much rehearsal, helped me blend in with sighted customers. When I lived by these strategies, I totally forget the original reason why I was acting like this. I forgot I had a visual impairment.

All these memories came back to me recently when we had to contact the police due to a work-related incident. I was asked to provide a description of an individual and had to say to the operator I didn’t know. He was a little perplexed how I could not describe the individual until I remembered I was blind. Uttering the words “Oh yes, sorry I am blind so cannot see her” made the poor operator stutter in embarrassment and jolted my memory that I belonged to my long forgotten blind club. I never cease to amaze myself on how scatty I can be sometimes.

When I think back over my life I realize that I have kept my sight loss a secret to the outside world unintentionally. Growing up in a visually distorted world, I thought as a young child that this was how everyone could see. It was only as I grew up that I realized that people could see things that I could not. By this time, it felt a little too late to randomly blurt out that I could not see even though I wore the thickest glasses ever. My sight loss then became kind of a secret not only to others but to my conscious mind. When I am told even today that I do not act blind I take that as a compliment. Keeping this secret helped me practice gratitude of everything I achieved in life independently regardless of my lack of vision.

Being blind is just one element of me and does not define me. Keeping this secret from others has been fun. It has all changed now though, as my beautiful unique Minster Munch attracts lots of attention and kind of gives my secret away. When I am asked by people who stop to talk to us, if I am training him as I don’t look blind, I sometimes get so tempted to fib and say yes. There is something quite fun about living in the world and finding your own unique way of blending in. This Secret Blind has so many stories about that fun of blending in, I am just wondering where to start.

The Weapon Of Blindness

Tags

Blind, Childrens Acceptance, Great teacher, Guide Dog, Hidden Disability, Love, Positivity, Santes Dwynwen, Sight Loss, Unconditional Love, Vision Impairment, Visual Impairement, White Cane

As she fought off obstacles that were not there, she swung the white cane from side to side daring anyone or anything to get her way. Attracting some fellow onlookers who fancied a go of her new-found weapon, she zoomed across the room at a speed that could make her heels smoke. Not caring what anyone thought of her, she continued her travels. As her feet picked up pace so did the speed of the cane and I knew there would be a collision soon, so I gently guided her towards the side of the room and took the Weapon of Blindness back under control. She fell into a sobbing heap on the floor. It was hard being 2 years old.

This is what happened when I took my granddaughter to an indoor play area and took my Weapon of Blindness instead of my Guide Dog Minster Munch. He had come with me before to this play area but wasn’t feeling too good after eating yet another forbidden object so was replaced by my extendible white friend. In the past, I could sense some of the poor parents’ apprehension about letting a dog that was twice the size of their child near them. Today however, the parents seemed more uneasy that I would bump into their children with my cane.

To restore the fun in my Granddaughters day, I gave her the new toy back. What was amazing was that I had never used the cane in front of her before today and she saw me use it for all of 5 seconds before whipping it out of my hand for the first time. She began using it correctly. She did not bang it around or push it along in front of her but moved it swiftly from side to side enough to swing it not much further than the width of her body in a perfect manner. She had taken 5 seconds to learn something that had taken me 4 weeks to learn.

As I walked behind her holding onto her sides like we were doing the Conga, I realized that she was doing it right where I had been doing it wrong all along. Her focus was only on getting from a to b and did not give a flying frisbee who saw her and what people thought of her. Here I was being given one of my greatest life lessons by a 2-year-old elder. Surrendering to the now, she had no plans, she had no past she just had the fun of being one with the Weapon of Blindness. As she held it steadily in her hand (which by the way was at least 4 times her height) she knew no fear, no limits, no shame.

I vowed today to live more like my little warrior. As she takes the cane off me and happily trots around the play area with other kids following her begging for a go of this Weapon of Blindness, I fall more and more in love with her authentic self. The freedom to meet challenges with power, comes from breaking our own imagined ties to fear-based restrictions. So today I will live by my granddaughters’ mantra in life. “ Gooooooooo”.

The term Weapon of Blindness for the white cane, came from a young boy’s experience of holding one in a talk I was part of for World Vision Day.