5 Apr

Smelling my way through the store.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Learning.

There is a myth that when you lose your vision, your other senses get heightened. It’s bullshit.

However.

I’ve become keenly aware of the things that I already knew but never thought about before, like smells. From scents to odors we have an incredible olfactory vocabulary and memory. This isn’t really news. There have been tons of studies showing how certain smells can trigger memories and emotions. Casino owners and real estate agents have known this for years.

But it works in little ways, too.

Recently I traveled around North Texas. At one point in my trip my plans changed twice in one day. Short version: I was 100 miles from my luggage and alone at the intersection of a highway I’d heard of and one I haven’t. Luckily, at this intersection was a Target. (Thank you, iPhone!)

I wandered inside and my pupils slammed shut. The circle I view the world through shrank and got blurry. Great timing. At least I wasn’t crossing the highway again.

I needed deodorant, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a change of clothes.

I walked around, and then I smelled it. The feminine hygiene isle. That isle has a distinctive scent. Similar to (but not the same as) the Baby Needs isle. Then there’s shampoos! I was getting closer! Then, boom, deodorant. I felt like Toucan Sam.

Just follow your nose! It always knows!

Toothpaste and toothbrushes were right around the corner. I didn’t have as good of luck smelling my way through the men’s department, but I figured three out of four ain’t bad and my ride will be here soon.

I paid for my bounty, made my way outside and found a bench. When my friend arrived he BUSTED out laughing because – apparently – the bench I found was right in front of an eye clinic and the people working inside looked unthrilled. (Oops! HA!!)

Since then, I’ve been smelling my way through the grocery store. Pet food, auto parts, school/office supplies, even canned goods have a smell. And the weird part is: I already knew that.

I’ve even gotten my wife to stop in the middle of the sidewalk to catch a scent on the wind. It’s a fun way to find new restaurants and I highly recommend it to everyone – including the sighted.

Screw Yelp! Just follow your nose.

5 Apr

I’ve always been bad with names, now I’m bad with faces too.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Humor, Blind Learning.

I never felt bad in the past about forgetting people’s names because NO ONE ever remembered mine. As a person I’m memorable enough, but my name just doesn’t stick. I get called every name but my own. I’ve gotten “Chris” and “Steve”, “Charles” and “Darryl”, and (sigh) “Jose” and “Carlos”.

When I started writing and working in stage/film, I started using pseudonyms. You know what? They stuck. I was never attempting to fool anyone – they often knew my real name as well – but when word gets out that you want to be credited as “Dirk Stairfighter” people take notice.

But even then, my real name got forgotten. I considered it Karma because I have never been able to hold a person’s name in my head before meeting them three times.

If a name is important, I write it down or I say it in my head a zillion times.

Hi James. Nice to meet you James. Would you like a drink, James? Perhaps in a James glass as you sit on your James stool. You, James – yes you, James, will have James’ drink because James is you. You’re James.

If I just meet you like a normal human and have a normal human conversation, by the time we say goodbye I’ve half-forgotten your name. …but at least I’m good with faces!! …or at least I was. Blindness has thrown a monkey wrench in my cover plan. Now, second and third meetings have gone from

Oh, geez! What was this guy’s name again?

to

I know this voice. Where do I know this voice from? …Dad? …God? …Darth Vader?

It’s led to some awkward conversations, especially if they have no idea that since out last meeting I’ve lost a ton of vision. It doesn’t help that I do all I can to appear sighted. (Yes, I know. I’m vain. We’ve covered this topic.)

A couple of weeks ago I went to a table reading and afterwards one of the actresses came up to me and said “Aren’t you going to say ‘Hi’?”. The first thing that popped into my head was

I knew I knew that voice!

I’d been listening to her act for 90 minutes and even heard her name, but until she spoke directly to me (as herself and not her character) I wasn’t sure if I knew her or not.

I quickly explained that I couldn’t really see her, but recognized her voice. Then I cracked a couple of blind jokes to let her know it’s cool that life sometimes throws you curveballs and that there are upsides to everything – even crappy things like going blind. I am learning so much about the world, about industrial design, about human nature, and that the rule The Only Real Limits Are The Ones You Put On Yourself still applies.

Then we caught up like any other colleagues. It was nice to “see” her again.

As we parted, I gave her my card. I did it partially because I’d hoped she’s keep in contact and partially because she never actually called me by name.

21 Sep

Details, Details, Details, Part One.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Learning.

The other day I had a Great Idea.

This idea was inspired in equal parts by Red Bull’s Flugtag events and by Burt Reynold’s The Cannonball Run.

I imagine an event that is fun for those involved and for those watching.

I hope to inspire engineering students, psychology students, smartphone programmers, sports gear makers, and possibly even a beverage vendor to be excited to be a part of this event.

The pie-in-the-sky version of this plan includes not asking for permission from the city.

When I say this to people, the reaction I most often get is: “But there are safety issues!” to which I reply: Exactly. If it’s not adequate for the blindfolded, it’s not adequate for the blind. Why not make a political statement while doing real-world research and raising awareness?

However, on a nuts-and-blots level, this is about: 1. making improvements to our city, and 2. pushing the state of the art of assistive technology and gear forward. Everything should support these goals, so if I have to ask for permission, so be it.

What needs to be done:

1. A Name

Also a tagline, a logo, and other design sundry. This will be most people’s first impression of this, so it has to send the right message and have the right feel. Done well, we can raise awareness and have a great turnout.

Done poorly, you can get mocked on YourLogoMakesMeBarf.

In other words, we need good branding. Oh, yeah! We’re going to need web space and a domain…

2. We need to decide on a maximum size.

I know, I know. I should be so lucky that I’m having to turn people away. Unfortunately, in order to plan a lot of the logistics we need to be able to tell people that we won’t go above X number of people. This isn’t just the participants, this also includes their helpers, our crew, and press too.

3. We need to decide on the Start/End locations.

It has to big enough for everybody, it has to be easy to find, and ideally it should have nearby parking and should allow us to hang banners and post fliers. Also: the end location should be roughly 10K from the start location, duh.

4. I need to get someone else so this “we” business doesn’t sound so pretentious.

Consider this my official call for help and input. So far, I have two artists on board. It’s a start. I’ll be talking with a reporter this week. Also, I wrote to the group in Utah that held a similar event this weekend.

5. We need to write the liability waiver.

If you step off a curb in front of a bus because there is no bell to announce WALK/DON’T WALK I’d prefer it become a matter of the city’s insurance than with mine.

6. We need to write the Post-Walk Questionnaire.

What’s the point if we don’t learn from this? I need to find people who know what we should ask. Also contact statisticians, behavioral psychologists, biology students, traffic analysts, and anyone else who may want to learn from our focus group.

7. We need a tax attorney.

I don’t want to bother with the hell of becoming a 501(c)3 in time and I don’t want to be at the mercy of someone who is. We are officially a “not for excessive profit” group. We’re not in it for the money, but we need to pay the bills and our taxes.

8. We need an accountant.

Someone with experience in something that resembles this project.

9. We need to draw up a budget.

You can’t just “wing it” on something this big.

10. We need to work out the crew plan at both ends.

I repeat: You can’t just “wing it” on something this big.

11. We need to officially invite the authors of all turn-by-tun navigation apps to submit an app for step-by-step gps/gyro navigation system for the blind.

Is there an app for that? Why not?

12. We need contact makers of sports equipment, medical equipment, and accessibility gear for sponsorships.

Stress medical equipment profitability and government paybacks.

13. Find friends in the tech press to publicize the fact that we will not be getting permits and to make first call for participants.

Stress how non-visual navigation can be used underwater, in caves, while climbing mountains, and in wartime situations. Get the geeks excited about the techhy possibilities.

14. Contact lighthouse for the blind, ask for “loaner white canes”.

It is unreasonable to ask participants to purchase a cane. Also contact white cane day people, the “blind press” (whatever that is), local press, etc.

15. Get a beverage sponsor.

Also see if we can get freebies from the sports/health gear people to give as prizes.

….and this is just the “before we get started” to do list.

The key to this plan’s success, like any project this size, is to get certain groups of people excited about the project for completely different reasons, and at completely different times.

Now is the time for “Blue Skying it”. Put your thoughts in the comments. Watch these videos for inspiration.

(Ignore the first 35 seconds of the second video. Please.)

19 Sep

Great Minds Think Alike: Blind Walk This Saturday

Posted by Gerald in Blind Learning.

The Utah Foundation For The Blind is doing an experiment this Saturday called “Walk With The Blind“. It is similar to the idea I posed about last week.

Check it out.

Thanks to Becky for the links.

Edit: Another one, this one in Boston! The Vision 5K.

6 Sep

A Walk In Our Shoes – A Blindfolded 10K Adventure

Posted by Gerald in Blind Learning.

DISCLAIMER:
This idea is still in it’s VERY EARLY stages. All names/dates/times/locations/details are simply placeholders and are subject to change.

Title:
The 1st Annual “In Our Shoes” 10K Walk

Tagline:
Raising awareness of our city’s accessibility level and the state of assistive technology for the blind.

Description:
A real-world-situation walk with no set path to the finish line… blindfolded. Also, the finish line is a secret until the walk begins. The idea is for the participants to be mixed in the crowds on the street, and experience the world without vision. Participate solo or in pairs.

Objective:
To have fun, raise awareness, and foster changes that allow the blind and visually impaired to independently move around our city more easily. It’s also a way to bring attention to new assistive tech gear, test its usability in real-world situations, and push the state of the art forward.

Overview:
Each participant will approach the starting line one at a time. After you affix your blindfold, your left hand will be placed on a time clock and a time card will be placed in your right hand. As soon as you clock in, you will be told the address of the finish line. You and a non-blindfolded spotter will leave the area and the next participant will queue up.

There will be winners in 4 categories, based on shortest travel time:
1. Sighted, Solo
2. Sighted, Pair
3. Blind/Visually Impaired, Solo
4. Blind/Visually Impaired, Pair

Everyone who makes it to the finish line will get a certificate of participation.

The finish line will be between 8K and 10K away. No matter which path you take, you will travel roughly the same distance north-to-south as you will east-to-west.

Details:
Your spotter will be recording your trek on video. You cannot ask your spotter for help or to remind you of the address of the finish line. He/she will only speak to (or grab) you if you are in immediate physical danger.

You are allowed (encouraged even) to use any and all assistive technology available. You are not allowed to have a guide dog, or guide monkey, or guide human, or any other guide creature, This walk is to promote accessibility/mobility independent of other living beings. There is one exception: You are free to talk to people on the street and if you are participating as a pair you can talk to one another.

Pre- and Post-
Before the walk there is a giant disclaimer, and after the walk is a questionnaire. If you are among those who may be winners, you will be asked to submit your video for verification. Peeking will not disqualify you, but there will be severe time penalties.

OK, so that’s the idea (minus a lot of the small print).
Questions?

Advice?

In Seattle and want to help make it a reality?

Not in Seattle and still want to help?

I’ll need help designing posters, T-Shirts, web sites, and banners. I need to be connected with organizations that could stand to mutually benefit from our awareness campaign. I need to be made aware of the legal land-mines ahead. etc. etc.

Anyone know a local celebrity or sports figure that could participate and bring in national coverage?

E-mail me: [email protected].

EDIT: Continued in “Details, Details, Details, Part One —->“

6 Sep

A Quick Thank You.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Emotion.

Sorry for the lack of posts. As many of you know, I lost my mother this summer.

A relatively young woman of 64, her illness and passing came quite suddenly. I was fortunate enough to spend her final two weeks with her, including her birthday. It’s time I will treasure always.

The crying still comes suddenly, but it happens less often. Thanks to everyone who sent tweets and e-mails of support. It means more than I can express on this blog.

And to Mom, if you can hear me: I love you. I miss you. I’m so glad your pain is over.

11 Mar

How’s “Seeing Things” Treating You?

Posted by Gerald in Blind Joy. Tagged: , , .

The following is an e-mail response I sent to a friend who asked:

hey how are you doing these days? how’s the ‘seeing things’ treating you?

I’m flying high – enjoying a condition that isn’t destined to last. After our last talk, my doctor told me that my pressure is still too high and I’m still killing my optic nerve. These last two surgeries bought me more time, but they weren’t quite enough. I’m scheduled for surgery number nine on the 24th. (28th? On these drugs I’m terrible with numbers.)

Of course, you know me. I’m not going to just sit on the sofa and rot. I’ve been given a temporary gift and I’m enjoying it to the fullest. I’m going to movies and reading – but I’m also doing silly things like coloring with crayons and putting decals on my walls. Oh, and I’ve decided to drive one last time while I have the chance.

Don’t worry, the sidewalks of Seattle are safe. C has taken three weeks off work and we’re taking one last road trip. We drove along the PCH (63 miles of the most beautiful coastline you will ever see) and toured Hearst Castle. On the tour, they pulled me aside and told me of a secret policy for blind visitors. I was allowed beyond the velvet ropes and plastic pathways. I stood mere inches from the most breathtaking art collection ever assembled – and was permitted to touch whatever I wanted. My hands fell upon first century Greek sculpture and seven century old tapestries. In the billiard room was an arch carved by the man who hired Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel and a wall hanging whose replica is hanging in the Louvre – and I got to touch the original. It’s a memory I will cherish forever.

I’m currently on a small horse ranch in Texas – playing with 1300 pound beasts and trying to get a cell phone signal.

I’ve put over 1000 miles with me at the wheel so far – and my wife trusted me enough to crawl in the back and go to sleep while I drove. TBTL has been the soundtrack of my last drive, and is permanently etched in my mind as part of the experience. My return trip begins in nine days and I will drive as much of it as I can. As soon as I get home I go under the knife and will be stuck on the sofa for a month an a half – but I will have the memories of a wonderful trip to keep me from growing restless.

Thanks for checking on me. Oh, and check me out in the New York Times : http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/11/garden/11tv.html

– Gerald

15 Feb

It’s amazing. In the blink of an eye, you finally see the light.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Joy.

A thought finally occurred to me:

Holy crap, I have GOT to get out of this poor pitiful me funk I’ve gotten myself into. I need to fix my attitude.

…and like that a weight has lifted off of me.

I felt my body loosen up and my spirit raise.

How can one simple “a ha” moment make so much of a change in one’s outlook?

15 Feb

It wasn’t supposed to be this long.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Anger, Blind Emotion. Tagged: , , .

I wasn’t supposed to be on the drops this long. I don’t know how long it’s been. The ability to hold numbers in my head for long was the first thing to go. Days of the week followed.

All I know is the finish line keeps moving.

Surgery number nine is scheduled for March 29. That means that I’m on the drops until at least June 1. After that I’m done. I can’t do it. I’m weak.

Last time it took six years for the side effects to be this bad. I’ve done it in less than one.

What are you talking about?
I’ve become a monster, a hermit, and a broken human being. My mood swings are so wide, I’m beginning to think I’m bi-polar. I don’t feel like me for most of the day. It’s like I’ve left some asshole in charge of my body and I get texts sent to me when he does something stupid or hurtful. When I am present, I feel like a giant child – like I have no concept of proper social behavior.

Sometimes, I’m halfway between here and wherever it is these drugs take me. Inside my head I hear words form, but it takes forever for my mouth to move – often the conversation has left me far behind. Much of the time I don’t know what people are talking about or what’s going on.

I’ve been absent for almost a year.

The worst part is that I feel like I’ve abandoned my wife. I don’t feel like I’m here for her and I can tell she really needs me now. I feel like a failure as a husband. Failing to connect with the outside world is bad enough. Failing to connect with her is excruciating.

I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep making her wait for me to come out of this fog.

What are you going to do?
First, I’m taking my wife home. For the first time since C found her birth mother, they didn’t spend her birthday together. She needs this.

…and to get there, we’re taking a road trip. Both of us that.

We’ll hit the road, see some sights, visit with family, pick up a few of the things that didn’t fit in the car last time, hit the road again, and get back home just in time for my pre-op exam.

The road has always worked magic on us, both individually and as a couple. We’re nomads.

Wait. A road trip? Are YOU going to drive?
The thought of getting behind the wheel for the first time in 11 months in the middle of nowhere has crossed my mind once or twice.

I have been given a gift that no one expected. Who knows how long it will last? This is probably my last chance to drive on one of these things.

Life is for living, you know?

23 Jan

Had a bad week

Posted by Gerald in Blind Emotion.

This week was a rough one.

A friend’s mother’s battle with cancer is finally nearing its end. The chemo isn’t working this time and on Tuesday they stopped treatment.

Also this week, a tornado hit the edge of town where my mother-in-law lives. Everyone’s okay. There was some flood damage and some nervous horses, but only fences were harmed. Unfortunately, the two main exits into town and the center of all county commerce was hit hardest.

My wife and I are getting back home as soon as we can schedule it.

Complicating matters, I found out this week that my pressure still isn’t low enough and I’m scheduled for surgery number nine as soon as they can fit me in.

On the plus side, I guess I have blog fodder, if I can only find the time and the energy,

Oh, well. At least the week is over and the weekend is here. Besides, I can always imagine worse.

– Gerald

14 Jan

Neurosis: Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t

Posted by Gerald in Blind Humor, Blind Learning.

When I leave the house without my cane, I feel like a fraud. I feel like I’m pretending that I can see the ground in front of me and that crossing the street doesn’t terrify me.

When I leave the house with my cane, I feel like a fraud. I feel like I’m pretending that I can’t see shapes, colors, movement and (gasp!) print.

I’m neurotic about everything else, why should this be different?

What’s in a name?
I think I’m getting hung up on the label.

When darkness fell this summer (and I had no idea if my sight would return), I immediately thought of myself as blind and found the term “visually impaired” silly, overly-sensitive, and consisting of entirely too many syllables.

Now that I can read a book and (sort of) walk without a cane, it doesn’t seem so silly anymore.

This summer I was BLIND, but now I just have a big blind spot. Referring to myself as “blind” seems disingenuous. I think I’m more comfortable with calling myself “visually impaired” – but still get weirded out if someone else calls me that.

Why? Is my ego THAT fragile? Don’t answer that.

Dark Glasses: My New Love/Hate Relationship
I can see better at night with my dark glasses on. They aren’t tinted very dark, so they help reduce glare day and night. Unfortunately, I’m beginning to feel like a walking stereotype when I wear them at night… so I’ve been taking them off.

I’m willing to walk around with glare in my eyes and trip over every rise in the sidewalk just to prove how unblind I am to strangers who have no idea that I have a vision situation at all.

THAT’S healthy.

What is with the Ray Charles/Stevie Wonder head thing?
Ok, I’m doing it because my neck is sore and my eyes are tired – but if I catch myself I freeze and stand/sit up straight and tall. Then I scan the room to see if anyone saw me.

Why am I doing that? What is UP with that?

…and why don’t I feel stupid doing it without the dark glasses and white cane? It’s a pretty un-cool head gesture. Like Max Headroom or Wm. F. Buckley Jr. my head is just kinda bouncing around.

Infants have better neck control.

Sometimes I’ll wear my white iPhone headphones so people think I’m rockin’ out.

Yep. I’m foolin’ everyone. I’m so smart.

Thank You, Mr. Pryor
I had a chance to catch See No Evil Hear No Evil on YouTube the other day. It’s a silly/stupid comedy with a razor-thin plot but I love both Gene “Young Frankenstein” Wilder and Richard “Brewster’s Millions” Pryor* so it’s easy to forgive them.

The whole first ten minutes felt entirely too familiar. I am BOTH of these characters. Holy crap.

Luckily, it devolved into the over-the-top stereotyping and whacky totally-implausable situations I was hoping for. Then, halfway through the movie, I identified waaay too much with this scene:

When slapstick comedies are imitating life, you’re acting like a stooge.

* (OK, Blazing Saddles and Here and Now were funnier, but I was going PG rated)

4 Jan

Last night, my wife overheard people talking about me.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Emotion, Blind Neurosis.

I still get nervous in crowded or unfamiliar places. Things are happening very fast and everyone is in their own little world – so I’m very aware that I can’t see the ground in front of me. Why am I more nervous now that I have half my vision back than when I had none? Because I can see people staring. I see them staring and I don’t know how to behave.

When I’m not carrying the cane, I do everything in my power to keep from looking like I can’t see. (I know, I know! I’m vain. I’m stupid. That’s a discussion for another day.) But when I DO carry the cane, I feel like I should act like how society tells me blind people act. I feel like I should ignore the vision I have left and just feel around and wait for people to read things to me because if they see me using my eyes at all then they’ll judge me and declare me a faker.

Then I get angry that I feel that way and defiantly try to use my eyes in as dramatic a fashion as possible. If they’re going to stare, let’s give them something to stare at. I’ll pick up a bag of chips and start reading the label. I’ll peruse the magazine aisle. I’ll stare at signs.

I’m an ass. It’s my coping mechanism.

This isn’t happening to just me.
Last night my wife and I went to pick up a few groceries. This was our first trip to the large Fred Meyer in Fremont since I re-discovered my ear. Out of habit, she grabbed my hand and put it on her elbow as we walked into the store. I tagged along for a while, but then we came to a crowded aisle.

I didn’t want to navigate it, so I told her I’d meet her one aisle over. She said “two aisles”. OK, two aisles over.

I looked at the ground – but then stopped.

I told myself Trust the tip, and looked straight forward.

It was like I was swimming. The whole world existed from my nose up, and my body is merely floating beneath it. I wanted to paddle my hands and drift toward my destination but instead just walked normally, feeling with my cane.

Two aisles over, I killed a minute looking at labels and then my wife was there. We did this twice more but by the time we were halfway finished shopping the place was less crowded and I wasn’t nervous anymore. I started looking around at stuff and wandering off alone. That’s when I started drawing attention to myself.

I passed my wife in the drink aisle, we exchanged hellos and I continued on. That’s when she heard it.

“Do you think that guy is really blind?”

“I don’t know, he looked like he was looking at stuff to me.”

My wife interjected. “That’s my husband. And, yes, he’s blind. He can’t see anything from his nose down,” and gave the busybodies a go to hell stare.

Shoulder Chips
I hate that she had to hear people talking about me. That bothers me ten times as much as the stares and whispers I hear. It takes me back to when we were dating and were spit on at the mall.

I think that’s why I’m so afraid to be viewed as different. In my experience different equals bad – and when I’m labeled bad, she catches shit too.

I know insensitive ignorance isn’t the same thing as bigoted hatred, but in the heat of the moment it’s all too familiar of a feeling of being singled out and the attention is unwanted.

I want to hide in my shell
I’ve given a couple of radio interviews on my adventure this year and have been asked to give a print interview with VisionAware – but I don’t know if I can do it. VisionAware is for real blind people. I don’t know if I qualify anymore. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I’m too blind for normal people, but not blind enough to actually be considered blind by the blind community.

I feel like I’m letting my blind friends down by being able to see again. I feel like all the worrying and crying I did this summer was for nothing and I’m just a big baby.

I feel like I don’t belong in the club.

I feel trapped between worlds.

27 Dec

I don’t FEEL blind, why do I need this cane?

Posted by Gerald in Blind Learning, Blind Neurosis.

OK, I’m back to staring at my feet instead of using my cane. It’s the losing-vision equivalent of the combover.

My ever-changing vision seems to have settled down into a “blind from the nose down, 20/20 from the nose up” situation. OK, it’s not as wide as normal vision, but it’s much wider than it ever was 2009. That’s the good news. The bad news: It looks (from my point of view) like I’m carrying a large box everywhere I go.

You know how it is when your arms are full. You can see in front of you, you can sorta see left to right – but the cat better not get in your way or else it’s getting stepped on. That’s how I see (as of this week).

Of course, my arms aren’t REALLY full, so I can point my face down and see the floor. So I’ve been doing that a little.

“As long as I keep this hair on the side and comb it over, I’ll never be bald!”
Am I telling myself “If I can walk without the cane, I’m not really blind anymore” ? I really hope not. If I come away from this year without learning a thing or two, then I’m a moron.

So, how are those Braille classes going?

Uhh… I haven’t been back to the class since that one time.

What about your O&M Training?

My wha…?

Orientation and Mobility.

What’s that?

That’s how you learn to get around.

I’ve just been teaching myself. Feeling the edges of curbs, listening for the quiet of traffic lulls.

It’s a freaking miracle you didn’t get run over. Why haven’t you taken classes?

I dunno. I taught myself to read, to ride a bike, to drive a car, to drive a stick shift, to shave, to breathe fire, to edit film, to cook, to rebuild a VW, to re-wire a house, to build a PC, how to program in BASIC and HTML… and if I remember the stories of my childhood correctly… how to walk the first time.

The way my mother tells it: I didn’t crawl, or even stand. I just sat and sat, and then one day (at around nine months old), I got up, walked across the room, took back a toy stolen from me by a cousin, and walked back to where I was sitting.

Knowing myself, I’m sure I was practicing walking in the other room when/where I could do it without being watched. I hate when people see me learning how to do things.

You’re a moron.

I know.

20 Dec

This Red Gatorade is Fruit Punch.

Posted by Gerald in Blind Joy, Blind Learning, Blind Neurosis. Tagged: , , , , , .

I can tell this bottle of red Gatorade is Fruit Punch, even before I open it. Do you know how I know? I read the label.

Let me repeat that: I read the label.

I pointed my face and the bottle toward one another and the small white letters came into focus.

New Glasses, New Hobby
I have totally been reading all the small print in my house.

After my surgeries, I was in near-total-blackness – but every day the circle of light in front of me got a little bigger. Unfortunately, because of the bruising and swelling and scarring – my glasses were useless. I was “blurry blind” as well as “darkness blind” (I don’t know the real terms).

Thanksgiving came, and with it: Turkey. A lack of vision was not going to deprive me of Turkey Dinner, and turkey sandwiches, and turkey soup, and turkey pudding and turkey shakes, and turkey IVs and turkey subcutaneous implants, and turkey suppositories ( …and then there’s the gravy pipe!)

My wife (not a cook) had to read the recipe cards and pour measurements for me to cook. It was an experience, and the food turned out just fine, but I felt kinda helpless and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t making dinner because I wasn’t doing everything all alone in the kitchen. (Control Freak Much?)

A week after TurkeyDay, I got my glasses. At first it was dizzying. I wasn’t sure i liked it. I felt very tall. Then I saw my wife.

It was the first time I saw her face clearly in months. It lasted ten seconds before I welled up and the tears made everything blurry again.

By the end of the day, the muscles on the sides of my eyes were sore. When I first left the eyeglass shop, it felt like I was stretching them because I was out of practice when it came to looking right and left (but I didn’t let that keep me from doing it).

I spent the day looking at the skyline, the passers-by, and my wife.

That night I grabbed a Gatorade, looked at the label, and instead of just seeing a splotch on the label – I saw the words “Lemon Lime”.

I froze.

I just kept reading it over and over. “Lemon Lime”.

Holy Shit! What’s that!??!
A week or so ago I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror and I made a discovery. Apparently, I have TWO ears.

Two of them.

My tunnel vision had been so severe that I had only been able to see my second ear at a distance. Getting closer to the mirror made my ear disappear past the edge of my vision. Yet, there it was, plain as day.

I swerved my head back and forth, counting my ears.