The Sunday before the hurricane was when I realized that it would probably hit us. My biggest and most pressing worry was for Bristol as she is almost 15 years old and would not do well in our home without power to cool the place down. I was also worried about her ability to toilet independently in a hurricane. My backyard is sheltered, but I needed her to be able to move quickly and I was worried that she'd not see where she was going. Because of these worries, I called a local friend who usually watches her if I'm out of town. She had just brought her back to me when I returned from New York. And she very kindly drove back over and picked her up. Her, her family, Bristol, and Gracy who is now her pet dog, and who was my retired guide, drove to Arkansas to ride out the storm.
Now it was me, Mill'E-Max, and Laveau. My first order of business was to get my supplies ready. I filled every container I could find which could be completely closed with water, and stuck it in my freezer. I bought things like crackers and peanut butter and some fruits or veggies which did not need refrigeration. I took all of my chairs and table off of my porch, and I charged up all of my electronics.
My power went out for the first time around 6 that Tuesday night. I was frustrated because I had just put my last frozen pizza in to bake. However it came right back on and lasted until around 10 that night.
The rain really started to pour, and the wind picked up. I could feel my house vibrating. I walked through my house, making sure everything was ok, when I felt a drop of water on my head. I thought I was imagining it, so I stood in the same place, and a few seconds later felt another drop of water. I then said a whole bunch of very bad words and went to find a large pot to catch the water from the leak in my roof.
Since I really couldn't do anything else, I mean, I can't really see or hear the hurricane, and I surely do not want a tactile hurricane experience! I curled up with my book (it was "The Red Tent" by Anita Diamond and will officially be known in my head as "the Hurricane Isaac book."), and went to sleep. Yes, I'm so deaf that I can sleep through a hurricane.
Mill'E-Max curled up to my back, and Laveau lay on my legs. Eventually I fell asleep, but was awakened by the dogs alerting me to a sound. They lead me to it and it was part of my ceiling in the room with the leaky roof. It had now become part of my floor, and there was soggy sheetrock, dust, and paint chips everywhere. I said some more bad words, and drug a chair to block that area off, so the dogs couldn't get into that mess.
I then huddled up with the dogs and used my iPhone and braille display to talk to my parents, to friends, and to check the alerts. My connection with the world narrowed down to a phone, and the fragile pins which make up my display. These things alone made it possible for me to know what was happening beyond my shaking house.
And that is basically the way things went for a day or so. This storm was like that unwanted houseguest... it just! would! not! go! away!
When I went to take the girls out, I felt more water hit my face. I was worried that there was yet another leak in my roof, but it was only the wind, driving the rain in sideways through the gap between door, and jam.
I got out a 30 ft. leash, tied one end to my fridge, which was the strongest thing I could think of, and clipped the other end to Mill'E-Max's collar. I was worried how'd she'd manage out there and was ready to help her if she needed it. Both she and Laveau were troopers, though and went out, took care of their business and came back in. Laveau was patient and waited her turn until Mill'E was done. After that, I gave them some pig tails to chew on, and did some more texting/checking of weather reports.
It was a very long 24 hours. But we made it through and I went on my first post-hurricane walk on Thursday morning.
A neighbor said that there were no down power lines in this area, so I felt safe in taking the girls and hitting the streets. Laveau gets a gold star for guiding me around all of the debris on the sidewalks. There was a man working on removing a tree which had fallen across his yard, and so many people out, looking around and assessing the damage.
The first two days or so were not too bad, temperature-wise. But Thursday afternoon, things got pretty nasty, and by Friday, I had made up my mind to go to a hotel after having a very vivid dream in which my dogs died of heatstroke.
Before I left, I cleaned all of the freezers and my fridge, as well as picked up all of the large chunks of drywall from my ceiling. My parents found me a hotel in the central business district and Laveau, Mill'E-Max and I were off on Friday afternoon.
Let me tell you, that air conditioning felt sooooo good! I took a shower and got ready for a nap, when Mill'E-Max told me she needed to use the bathroom. The CBD doesn't have much grass, so we wandered around for a while until we found some. By then, I was very confused as to where I was. I didn't wear my hearing aid and I had forgotten to bring my iPhone so I couldn't ask for directions back to the hotel. Yes, I'm aware that this was not one of my brightest moments, but my brain was pretty well fried by that point.
Thankfully, Mill'E-Max remembered where to go, and we arrived at our hotel room in no time. I touched the braille to make sure, and the sign said room 323. I said yet more bad words and stomped off to the elevator. The whole time Mill'E-Max protesting that the room was right. I looked at the little braille placard on the outside of the elevator and it said floor 2.... I was confused. Mill'E-Max guided me back to the same room and nudged the door handle with her nose. I looked at the braille again, and it still! said room 323. I then felt a little higher, and noticed that there were raised print numbers. I read them by touch and it said room 215 which was my correct room. So the dog was right and I should have listened to her. If she were human, she'd have never let me live this down!
I talked to the lady at the front desk about this issue, a few days later, and she said "Well just read the print, it's right..." I made a bad face at her and explained, using small words, about braille. Then I explained to another worker just because I wanted to be sure the hotel got the message and I did not trust the first lady to deliver the message.
I enjoyed my time at the hotel. I basically slept for the first day I was there, only waking up to take dogs out, to drink water, and eat a bit. I came home on Labor day, and some friends helped me vacuum the rest of the sheetrock dust and paint flakes.
Now pretty much everything is back to normal and Bristol came home, so we are together once again!
I'm crossing my fingers for a hurricane-free rest of the season.
Showing posts with label Deafblindness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deafblindness. Show all posts
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
New York, New York!
After some crazy hurricane-related delays, I'm here with the rest of my New York story. Then the hurricane story! I'd best get writing!
We arrived in New York around noon. I did not wear my hearing aid, and so the ways I experienced the city are different from many people. I noticed first of all that the steps going to and from the subway are super steep. Immediately I wondered how people who use wheelchairs, scooters or walkers use the subway. Do they just not ride it?
We stopped quick for some Star Bucks and then started walking toward the theater. A Deaf man saw my SSP and me signing to each other and came up to say "hi." I thought that was really neat. We took another subway and arrived at the theater district. The aromas of the nearby hotdog stand encouraged me to buy my first New York hotdog. It was delicious, with ketchup and mustard. Once we were done eating, we went into the Majestic Theater for Phantom of the Opera. We had to climb a bunch of narrow, twisting steps to get to our private box. The handrails were made of carved iron, and the whole place seemed very old and full of history. I arrived at our box to find cushy chairs and a pillow atop a table upon which we rested our arms during the performance.
When the play was over, we went to Times Square. The first store was Toys R Us. The store has giant models of the buildings which make up the New York skyline, and they are all made of legos. When I walked into the store, I was amazed at the size. I could feel the excitement of everyone brushing against my skin, and nobody needed to tell me that this place would be really loud, if I could hear. I touched several building models and enjoyed the many different styles of architecture. Sometimes I forget that buildings do not look all the same. Frequently, the different styles of architecture are lost on me. By touching the different buildings, I got a better sense of what things looked like. And the whole time, I felt it, on my skin, the bustling, loud excitement of the place.
We eft Toys R Us and walked through Times Square. I could smell meat cooking, onions, people all around, and cars. All of that formed a sort of mix of smells. My SSP described the many different things going on. There were people dressed up as different characters. There were Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Elmo from Sesame Street, Sponge Bob, and Shrek, the green ogre. There were so many people. It was like Mardi Gras, and Super Bowl Sunday in the French Quarter when the Saints played all rolled together. Laveau did a great job at following and keeping me on the right path.
We got on yet another subway to go to Central park. This train had something sticky spilled all over the floor and I remember being worried that Laveau would get her coat all nasty. We got out, and walked to Central park. The smells were different here-- of grass, and dirt, and horses. My SSP described to me all of the people and dogs going about different activities. Some were walking, others playing frisbee, or just sitting on the grass, enjoying the afternoon. We sat on the grass for a while and enjoyed the beautiful day. We eventually got up and bought some water from a vender on the street. I was so thirsty that I drank my bottle all down in one go.
Next, we were off to China Town for dinner. More subways, and this time we emerged upon a world which smelled of spices, and fish. We walked around and eventually found a place to eat. I had wonderful steamed veggies in a delicious sauce. I also had some hot tea. The food was amazing. I would love to go back there again.
Once we had finished eating, we got on another subway and went back to Times Square. By this time, it was dark, outside. All of the buildings were lit up. Because I can see contrast, I could sort of see the buildings. It reminded me of Christmas, with all of the many-colored lights. I couldn't see the buildings the same way a sighted person could-- with all of the detail. I mostly saw tall colorful blobs.
By that point, we were super tired. I needed to run into a Walgreens and find some canned tuna or something for Laveau to eat. Times Square has to have the biggest WalGreens ever. It was three levels and is just huge. I thought we'd never find our way out of there. But eventually we did, and it was more subway riding, and then connecting to the Long Island Railroad to go back to HKNC!
I really loved my time in New York City, but I feel like I hadn't even scratched its surface, and am eager to spend more time there!
We arrived in New York around noon. I did not wear my hearing aid, and so the ways I experienced the city are different from many people. I noticed first of all that the steps going to and from the subway are super steep. Immediately I wondered how people who use wheelchairs, scooters or walkers use the subway. Do they just not ride it?
We stopped quick for some Star Bucks and then started walking toward the theater. A Deaf man saw my SSP and me signing to each other and came up to say "hi." I thought that was really neat. We took another subway and arrived at the theater district. The aromas of the nearby hotdog stand encouraged me to buy my first New York hotdog. It was delicious, with ketchup and mustard. Once we were done eating, we went into the Majestic Theater for Phantom of the Opera. We had to climb a bunch of narrow, twisting steps to get to our private box. The handrails were made of carved iron, and the whole place seemed very old and full of history. I arrived at our box to find cushy chairs and a pillow atop a table upon which we rested our arms during the performance.
When the play was over, we went to Times Square. The first store was Toys R Us. The store has giant models of the buildings which make up the New York skyline, and they are all made of legos. When I walked into the store, I was amazed at the size. I could feel the excitement of everyone brushing against my skin, and nobody needed to tell me that this place would be really loud, if I could hear. I touched several building models and enjoyed the many different styles of architecture. Sometimes I forget that buildings do not look all the same. Frequently, the different styles of architecture are lost on me. By touching the different buildings, I got a better sense of what things looked like. And the whole time, I felt it, on my skin, the bustling, loud excitement of the place.
We eft Toys R Us and walked through Times Square. I could smell meat cooking, onions, people all around, and cars. All of that formed a sort of mix of smells. My SSP described the many different things going on. There were people dressed up as different characters. There were Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Elmo from Sesame Street, Sponge Bob, and Shrek, the green ogre. There were so many people. It was like Mardi Gras, and Super Bowl Sunday in the French Quarter when the Saints played all rolled together. Laveau did a great job at following and keeping me on the right path.
We got on yet another subway to go to Central park. This train had something sticky spilled all over the floor and I remember being worried that Laveau would get her coat all nasty. We got out, and walked to Central park. The smells were different here-- of grass, and dirt, and horses. My SSP described to me all of the people and dogs going about different activities. Some were walking, others playing frisbee, or just sitting on the grass, enjoying the afternoon. We sat on the grass for a while and enjoyed the beautiful day. We eventually got up and bought some water from a vender on the street. I was so thirsty that I drank my bottle all down in one go.
Next, we were off to China Town for dinner. More subways, and this time we emerged upon a world which smelled of spices, and fish. We walked around and eventually found a place to eat. I had wonderful steamed veggies in a delicious sauce. I also had some hot tea. The food was amazing. I would love to go back there again.
Once we had finished eating, we got on another subway and went back to Times Square. By this time, it was dark, outside. All of the buildings were lit up. Because I can see contrast, I could sort of see the buildings. It reminded me of Christmas, with all of the many-colored lights. I couldn't see the buildings the same way a sighted person could-- with all of the detail. I mostly saw tall colorful blobs.
By that point, we were super tired. I needed to run into a Walgreens and find some canned tuna or something for Laveau to eat. Times Square has to have the biggest WalGreens ever. It was three levels and is just huge. I thought we'd never find our way out of there. But eventually we did, and it was more subway riding, and then connecting to the Long Island Railroad to go back to HKNC!
I really loved my time in New York City, but I feel like I hadn't even scratched its surface, and am eager to spend more time there!
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
New York State of Mind
This is going to be super, super long. It will also be posted in multiple places, so I'm just warning y'all. If you are interested in the trip, grab a cup of your favorite beverage and a snack and relax, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!
My SSP and I left MSY an hour and a half late. This meant that we arrived at LGA an hour and a half late. We found our driver waiting, and threw our suitcases into the back of his car. After some words about the dog (no, she doesn't bite), we headed to HKNC. New York was a lot greener than I Imagined it to be. It was about a 45 minute drive to the center.
We arrived and were shown to our room. My SSP, Laveau and I all shared a room. We quick freshened up and then ran to the pre-conference meeting.
First order of business was for Laveau, and the other guide dog, Walter to say hello. The other instructors were Bapin, and Scott Davert from HKNC and Bruce Visser from Seattle. We all chatted for a while and then got down to business, planning out the week and dividing up responsibilities.
I taught the Apple Mac portions of the program, and shared the Apple IOS section with Scott who, I might add, was a joy to work with. We got the interpreter situation mostly straightened out (so we thought) and broke up for the evening. I went and got dinner with my SSP, then it was back to the room where I fell into bed.
Monday started with more interpreter issues. We had five student trainers at this seminar, two were blind/hearing, one was sighted/hearing and two were Deafblind, in addition to the 4 Deafblind instructors using ASL either tactually or with close up tracking. Once we settled the interpreter situation, some people from HKNC talked about various things.
That afternoon, I worked with students, describing the keyboard layout of an Apple Mac, and using Apple mail. Once the classes were finished, we had a quick staff meeting where it was decided that we'd offer night labs for the rest of the week. After the meeting, Scott and I met in his office for a while and planned out the next day's sessions. And where I banged my head on his desk repeatedly and bemoaned my failure as a teacher.
Tuesday morning, I gave a presentation on the basics of using Apple Mac with the built-in screen reader, Voiceover, and braille support. I also talked about the differences between a screen reader for a PC and the Apple Voiceover. I introduced the finder, and screen layout, as well as the Voiceover keys and the Trackpad commander. I came away wanting a newer Mac, because mine doesn't have one of those nifty trackpad thingies.
That afternoon, I did more hands-on instruction-- watching as my student explored the finder.
That night, a few of us decided that all of the wholesome HKNC country living was making us crazy. We left the lab in the capable hands of Bapin and Bruce and went to a bar where we drank too much, laughed too much, and generally had a wonderful time, although we stayed out too late!
Wednesday morning, Scott and I presented on using Apple's iDevices with braille. I also did a demo of using IP Relay on an iPhone to make a phone call. We demonstrated other iOS apps such as Messages and Safari. Scott and I have the same sense of humor so made a good team.
That afternoon, I worked with students on using the rotor to change ways of navigating iDevices. That night I helped a student in the lab send her first email with a braille display and an iPod Touch. It is always my favorite part of teaching when my students accomplish a goal, which my student did, after some struggle. I also got to look at her Focus 40 Blue braille display. It was the newer model and I liked it.
Thursday was the Bruce Visser show, where he taught us all about screen magnification solutions for both Mac and PC. Bapin also showed us how to work with Window Eyes and Non Visual Desktop Access NVDA, which is a free screen reader for Windows machines.
By Thursday afternoon I was really dragging. I spent that time, working with hearing students. They each got to make a relay call, which was wonderful. It was also quite a bit of fun, as we kept finding things to laugh about during the session.
That evening, between afternoon and evening sessions, Scott, my SSP and I went into Port Washington where we met my friend Kerri for pizza. We had fun talking/texting across the table, and I got to try New York Pizza which was delicious. I was a good girl, and only had Coke.
That night's lab was more of the same working on making relay calls. After the lab was over, we had a bit of a gathering in my room which didn't break up until the early hours of the next day.
Friday was a killer day. I was really dragging. That morning, we learned more about NVDA and news apps for the iOS platform. I skipped lunch and instead went to my room and lay on my bed and tried not to fall into a deep sleep.
That afternoon was final tests, evaluations, and a funny incident involving another guide dog chewing on my chair and making it vibrate which startled me and made me laugh. It was probably made more humorous because I was very sleep deprived by that point.
That night turned into a big party. A bunch of us met at a bar in Port Washington. I decided that since I was on Long Island that I'd drink Long Island iced tea. I had about three of those, and then switched to a drink called the Motherfucker which had about seven different kinds of alcohol in it. I shared about five of those.
Now, since what happens in New York, stays in New York, I won't get into specifics. But I will say this. Some Deaf/Deafblind people may have gotten up and danced. And some Deaf/Deafblind people may have even sung kerioke. And some Deaf/Deafblind people may have even gotten pictures of them singing kerioke posted to Facebook. It was a very fun night, bruises and all! I wanted to be the designated driver, because alcohol improves my driving skill! However nobody believed me, and so I was bundled into a cab, and I staggered in around 2 ish.
The next day we went into New York City. My SSP and I had all of these plans about when we'd leave, and lets just say that we missed that 7:30 AM train. However we were on the rode by 11. We arrived in Penn Station, and after fortifying ourselves with the universal hangover cure of Star bucks, we took a subway to the Majestic Theater for Phantom of the Opera. While in the subway, I tried to walk off of a train platform, but thankfully, Laveau put herself in front of me and shoved me backward. Good dog, I guess I'll keep her!
I had originally called the Majestic in late June, to ask about ASL interpreters for Phantom. Their reply was that Deafblind people didn't go to the theater so I'd have to bring my own. So I talked to my SSP who happens to also be a law intern, and she worked her way up the chain of command. Nobody wanted to give me interpreters. They wanted to give me the script, and they wanted to do braille CART, but finally! PAH! A demand letter was written, and signed by a lawyer, explaining the law and requesting that they comply. And they did, four days before we were scheduled to see the play, we got word that I'd have interpreters.
I ate a New York hotdog, and showed up to the theater. It was old and beautiful, with intricate ironwork. I walked up a long and winding flight of steps to find that we had gotten our own private box.
It was so cool! So, so sosososososo! neat! There were comfortable chairs, and a table, complete with pillow, for me to rest my arms upon.
The play was amazing! I really enjoyed it, and loved the difference between everyday signing and this which was much more stylized and just, expressive in a totally unique way.
And since you are all probably falling asleep, I'll end this entry here and write another one all about my day in Manhattan!
My SSP and I left MSY an hour and a half late. This meant that we arrived at LGA an hour and a half late. We found our driver waiting, and threw our suitcases into the back of his car. After some words about the dog (no, she doesn't bite), we headed to HKNC. New York was a lot greener than I Imagined it to be. It was about a 45 minute drive to the center.
We arrived and were shown to our room. My SSP, Laveau and I all shared a room. We quick freshened up and then ran to the pre-conference meeting.
First order of business was for Laveau, and the other guide dog, Walter to say hello. The other instructors were Bapin, and Scott Davert from HKNC and Bruce Visser from Seattle. We all chatted for a while and then got down to business, planning out the week and dividing up responsibilities.
I taught the Apple Mac portions of the program, and shared the Apple IOS section with Scott who, I might add, was a joy to work with. We got the interpreter situation mostly straightened out (so we thought) and broke up for the evening. I went and got dinner with my SSP, then it was back to the room where I fell into bed.
Monday started with more interpreter issues. We had five student trainers at this seminar, two were blind/hearing, one was sighted/hearing and two were Deafblind, in addition to the 4 Deafblind instructors using ASL either tactually or with close up tracking. Once we settled the interpreter situation, some people from HKNC talked about various things.
That afternoon, I worked with students, describing the keyboard layout of an Apple Mac, and using Apple mail. Once the classes were finished, we had a quick staff meeting where it was decided that we'd offer night labs for the rest of the week. After the meeting, Scott and I met in his office for a while and planned out the next day's sessions. And where I banged my head on his desk repeatedly and bemoaned my failure as a teacher.
Tuesday morning, I gave a presentation on the basics of using Apple Mac with the built-in screen reader, Voiceover, and braille support. I also talked about the differences between a screen reader for a PC and the Apple Voiceover. I introduced the finder, and screen layout, as well as the Voiceover keys and the Trackpad commander. I came away wanting a newer Mac, because mine doesn't have one of those nifty trackpad thingies.
That afternoon, I did more hands-on instruction-- watching as my student explored the finder.
That night, a few of us decided that all of the wholesome HKNC country living was making us crazy. We left the lab in the capable hands of Bapin and Bruce and went to a bar where we drank too much, laughed too much, and generally had a wonderful time, although we stayed out too late!
Wednesday morning, Scott and I presented on using Apple's iDevices with braille. I also did a demo of using IP Relay on an iPhone to make a phone call. We demonstrated other iOS apps such as Messages and Safari. Scott and I have the same sense of humor so made a good team.
That afternoon, I worked with students on using the rotor to change ways of navigating iDevices. That night I helped a student in the lab send her first email with a braille display and an iPod Touch. It is always my favorite part of teaching when my students accomplish a goal, which my student did, after some struggle. I also got to look at her Focus 40 Blue braille display. It was the newer model and I liked it.
Thursday was the Bruce Visser show, where he taught us all about screen magnification solutions for both Mac and PC. Bapin also showed us how to work with Window Eyes and Non Visual Desktop Access NVDA, which is a free screen reader for Windows machines.
By Thursday afternoon I was really dragging. I spent that time, working with hearing students. They each got to make a relay call, which was wonderful. It was also quite a bit of fun, as we kept finding things to laugh about during the session.
That evening, between afternoon and evening sessions, Scott, my SSP and I went into Port Washington where we met my friend Kerri for pizza. We had fun talking/texting across the table, and I got to try New York Pizza which was delicious. I was a good girl, and only had Coke.
That night's lab was more of the same working on making relay calls. After the lab was over, we had a bit of a gathering in my room which didn't break up until the early hours of the next day.
Friday was a killer day. I was really dragging. That morning, we learned more about NVDA and news apps for the iOS platform. I skipped lunch and instead went to my room and lay on my bed and tried not to fall into a deep sleep.
That afternoon was final tests, evaluations, and a funny incident involving another guide dog chewing on my chair and making it vibrate which startled me and made me laugh. It was probably made more humorous because I was very sleep deprived by that point.
That night turned into a big party. A bunch of us met at a bar in Port Washington. I decided that since I was on Long Island that I'd drink Long Island iced tea. I had about three of those, and then switched to a drink called the Motherfucker which had about seven different kinds of alcohol in it. I shared about five of those.
Now, since what happens in New York, stays in New York, I won't get into specifics. But I will say this. Some Deaf/Deafblind people may have gotten up and danced. And some Deaf/Deafblind people may have even sung kerioke. And some Deaf/Deafblind people may have even gotten pictures of them singing kerioke posted to Facebook. It was a very fun night, bruises and all! I wanted to be the designated driver, because alcohol improves my driving skill! However nobody believed me, and so I was bundled into a cab, and I staggered in around 2 ish.
The next day we went into New York City. My SSP and I had all of these plans about when we'd leave, and lets just say that we missed that 7:30 AM train. However we were on the rode by 11. We arrived in Penn Station, and after fortifying ourselves with the universal hangover cure of Star bucks, we took a subway to the Majestic Theater for Phantom of the Opera. While in the subway, I tried to walk off of a train platform, but thankfully, Laveau put herself in front of me and shoved me backward. Good dog, I guess I'll keep her!
I had originally called the Majestic in late June, to ask about ASL interpreters for Phantom. Their reply was that Deafblind people didn't go to the theater so I'd have to bring my own. So I talked to my SSP who happens to also be a law intern, and she worked her way up the chain of command. Nobody wanted to give me interpreters. They wanted to give me the script, and they wanted to do braille CART, but finally! PAH! A demand letter was written, and signed by a lawyer, explaining the law and requesting that they comply. And they did, four days before we were scheduled to see the play, we got word that I'd have interpreters.
I ate a New York hotdog, and showed up to the theater. It was old and beautiful, with intricate ironwork. I walked up a long and winding flight of steps to find that we had gotten our own private box.
It was so cool! So, so sosososososo! neat! There were comfortable chairs, and a table, complete with pillow, for me to rest my arms upon.
The play was amazing! I really enjoyed it, and loved the difference between everyday signing and this which was much more stylized and just, expressive in a totally unique way.
And since you are all probably falling asleep, I'll end this entry here and write another one all about my day in Manhattan!
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Independence Day
When I first started losing my hearing, one of my biggest fears was that of losing my ability to travel independently. Whether it be across town or across the country, I've always loved being able to go where ever I wanted by myself. I decided early on that I was not going to let anything keep me from continuing to travel like this. And thanks to technology, and my fabulous dog, I am still traveling today. Here is just a small sample of one of our adventures
Yesterday after I came home from work, I realized I was out of some necessary items for cleaning. I would have let this wait until Friday, but you know the rule-- the moment you run out of paper towels and floor cleaner, that's when a dog gets sick. There was nothing for it but to venture to the Whole Foods for some needed items and maybe a treat or two. I harnessed up Laveau, grabbed my iPhone and braille display, and we set off.
I had checked Google Maps for the bus schedule, and gave myself plenty of time to walk the seven blocks to the stop. While crossing the road by my house we got a traffic check. This intersection is not controlled at all, and sometimes can look safe, but cars can come out of nowhere. We got about half way across the road, when I felt Laveau slam on the breaks, and stand in front of me. Seconds later, I felt the brush of air as a car drove passed. Thankfully there were only little roads left to cross until we got to the bus stop.
As we walked, I could smell the different aromas from the many restaurants in the area. My neighborhood has become rather famous for its many and varied restaurants. I noticed that the spider plants which grow outside of the juice bar were getting very long. I felt them brush my cheek as Laveau took me out and around them. She was very curious as to our destination, and every time we passed a familiar landmark, she would turn her head and pause, to let me know we were in front of a favorite place. The Mini-Mart, the doughnut shop, the juice bar, and the kennel where Baylee goes for day care all were pointed out to me. I think I could hire Laveau out as a tour guide!
Finally we got to the corner. Laveau lay in the grass, and I told her to "watch" which." She did. Lounging in the grass, only getting up when she saw the bus. She touched the harness handle to my leg-- my cue that the bus had arrived. I waited for the driver to deploy the ramp, and then we got on the bus. As I stopped to show the driver my ID which allows me to ride fixed-route buses for free, I told him I was deafblind and could he tap me on the shoulder when we got to the stop. Then I asked Laveau to find me a seat.
Once seated, I turned on my iPhone and braille display. I opened
<"Ariadne GPS">
This is a very inexpensive app which simply flashes the addresses and names of streets as you pass them. I especially like it while traveling by bus because it allows me to know where I am, and lets me know when I might be getting close to my stop. That way, if I think the driver has forgotten to tap me when I have arrived at the correct stop, I can remind him or her to do this when we are close.
This time, though the driver remembers. I get off the bus, walk to the corner, cross another street and wait for another bus. Rinse, repeat. Laveau is happiest when we are on the bus because it is nice and cool in there.
We arrive at the Whole Foods and the second bus driver helps me cross the busy street in front of the store. Then he leads me to a door, and leaves. I walk inside with Laveau, and something doesn't feel quite right. I know I'm in the right place-- the smell is right and the feeling under my feet and in the air is right. Laveau knows where we are going though and I feel her excitedly pull into the harness. We walk for a bit, and then I realize that Laveau is headed out to the parking garage. While this is not where I wanted to be, it is in a sense good that she did this, because now I know where I am for sure. I think Laveau was disappointed though, because we usually go to this store with friends or my SSP. I think she thought she'd find herself a nice comfy ride home in a car if she went to the parking garage.
At last, our shopping was done. I even got an ice mocha out of the deal. Since I bought several big and unwieldy items, like paper towels and the like which do not fit well into a backpack, I used IP relay on my iPhone to call a cab home. Laveau got the car ride after all.
Happy Independence Day, Y'all!
Yesterday after I came home from work, I realized I was out of some necessary items for cleaning. I would have let this wait until Friday, but you know the rule-- the moment you run out of paper towels and floor cleaner, that's when a dog gets sick. There was nothing for it but to venture to the Whole Foods for some needed items and maybe a treat or two. I harnessed up Laveau, grabbed my iPhone and braille display, and we set off.
I had checked Google Maps for the bus schedule, and gave myself plenty of time to walk the seven blocks to the stop. While crossing the road by my house we got a traffic check. This intersection is not controlled at all, and sometimes can look safe, but cars can come out of nowhere. We got about half way across the road, when I felt Laveau slam on the breaks, and stand in front of me. Seconds later, I felt the brush of air as a car drove passed. Thankfully there were only little roads left to cross until we got to the bus stop.
As we walked, I could smell the different aromas from the many restaurants in the area. My neighborhood has become rather famous for its many and varied restaurants. I noticed that the spider plants which grow outside of the juice bar were getting very long. I felt them brush my cheek as Laveau took me out and around them. She was very curious as to our destination, and every time we passed a familiar landmark, she would turn her head and pause, to let me know we were in front of a favorite place. The Mini-Mart, the doughnut shop, the juice bar, and the kennel where Baylee goes for day care all were pointed out to me. I think I could hire Laveau out as a tour guide!
Finally we got to the corner. Laveau lay in the grass, and I told her to "watch" which." She did. Lounging in the grass, only getting up when she saw the bus. She touched the harness handle to my leg-- my cue that the bus had arrived. I waited for the driver to deploy the ramp, and then we got on the bus. As I stopped to show the driver my ID which allows me to ride fixed-route buses for free, I told him I was deafblind and could he tap me on the shoulder when we got to the stop. Then I asked Laveau to find me a seat.
Once seated, I turned on my iPhone and braille display. I opened
<"Ariadne GPS">
This is a very inexpensive app which simply flashes the addresses and names of streets as you pass them. I especially like it while traveling by bus because it allows me to know where I am, and lets me know when I might be getting close to my stop. That way, if I think the driver has forgotten to tap me when I have arrived at the correct stop, I can remind him or her to do this when we are close.
This time, though the driver remembers. I get off the bus, walk to the corner, cross another street and wait for another bus. Rinse, repeat. Laveau is happiest when we are on the bus because it is nice and cool in there.
We arrive at the Whole Foods and the second bus driver helps me cross the busy street in front of the store. Then he leads me to a door, and leaves. I walk inside with Laveau, and something doesn't feel quite right. I know I'm in the right place-- the smell is right and the feeling under my feet and in the air is right. Laveau knows where we are going though and I feel her excitedly pull into the harness. We walk for a bit, and then I realize that Laveau is headed out to the parking garage. While this is not where I wanted to be, it is in a sense good that she did this, because now I know where I am for sure. I think Laveau was disappointed though, because we usually go to this store with friends or my SSP. I think she thought she'd find herself a nice comfy ride home in a car if she went to the parking garage.
At last, our shopping was done. I even got an ice mocha out of the deal. Since I bought several big and unwieldy items, like paper towels and the like which do not fit well into a backpack, I used IP relay on my iPhone to call a cab home. Laveau got the car ride after all.
Happy Independence Day, Y'all!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
The Deafblind Journey
June is Deafblind Awareness Month, and this week is Deafblind Awareness Week. Today is also the birthday of
<"Helen Keller">
Even when I was blind and hearing, I've always had an interest in Helen Keller, and her life.
We all know that she was truly a pioneer of her time. But rarely, do we stop to think about what her time was like. Things were different, then. Attitudes about disability were radically different, and Helen Keller never had the opportunities that we-- as Deafblind people have today. She is often portrayed as an amazing woman, an angelic figure-- admired for her strength of will, and ever-hungering mind. But how did Helen Keller feel about her own situation? How did she feel about her own deafblindness.
In 1906, Helen Keller asked the author Mark Twain to give a speech at the association of promoting the interests of the blind. She was unable to preside herself, and sent her good friend to speak to them. She also sent him with a letter to read at the meeting. It gives us a very clear look into her feelings about blindness.
"To know what the blind man needs, you who can see must imagine what it would be not to see, and you can imagine it more vividly if you remember that before your journey's end you may have to go the dark way yourself. Try to realize what blindness means to those whose joyous activity is stricken to inaction. It is to live long, long days, and life is made up of days. It is to live immured, baffled, impotent, all God's world shut out. It is to sit helpless, defrauded, while your spirit strains and tugs at its fetters, and your shoulders ache for the burden they are denied, the rightful burden of labor. The seeing man goes about his business confident and self-dependent. He does his share of the work of the world in mine, in quarry, in factory, in counting room, asking of others no boon, save the opportunity to do a man's part and to receive the laborer's guerdon. In an instant accident blinds him. The day is blotted out. Night envelops all the visible world. The feet which once bore him to his task with firm and confident stride stumble and halt and fear the forward step. He is forced to a new habit of idleness, which like a canker consumes the mind and destroys its beautiful faculties. Memory confronts him with his lighted past. Amid the tangible ruins of his life as it promised to be he gropes his pitiful way. You have met him on your busy thoroughfares with faltering feet and outstretched hands, patiently "dredging" the universal dark, holding out for sale his petty wares, or his cap for your pennies; and this was a man with ambitions and capabilities."
When I read this for the first time, my heart broke. I can't imagine how a person could carry on, believing such things about themselves. But it is because she did carry on that deafblind people have the lives we do today.
We can work, we are enjoying life, we travel proudly with confidence. I myself have work which is wonderful and satisfying. I have encouraging friends and family, and meaningful social activities. I have the ability to travel independently, where ever, and when ever I wish-- only limited by finances and time, and responsibility. And the fact that my travel can, at times, be curtailed because of my responsibilities is indeed a blessing. People rely on me, they need me to do various things. I am important, and as much as traveling is a pleasure and a blessing, returning home is an even bigger one.
In the beginning of her letter, Helen Keller states:
"It is a great disappointment to me not to be with you and the other friends who have joined their strength to uplift the blind. The meeting in New York will be the greatest occasion in the movement which has so long engaged my heart: and I regret keenly not to be present and feel the inspiration of living contact with such an assembly of wit, wisdom and philanthropy. I shall be happy if I could have spelled into my hand the words as they fall from your lips, and receive, even as it is uttered, the eloquence of our Newest Ambassador to the blind. We have not had such advocates before. My disappointment is softened by the thought that never at any meeting was the right word so sure to be spoken. But, superfluous as all other appeals must seem after you and Mr. Choate have spoken, nevertheless, as I am a woman, I cannot be silent, and I ask you to read this letter, knowing that it will be lifted to eloquence by your kindly voice.."
These things are now possible. Through the use of relay Services, Captioning, and Transcripts, as well as VRS, SSP's and Interpreters, we are far more able to be a part of our own world. I have instant access to books, to information, to things which never have been even dreamed back in Miss Keller's day.
I have never been ashamed to be Deafblind. I have had the blessing of a loving family, with high standards, good and patient teachers, fabulous role-models, and supportive friends. If I want to do something badly enough-- I will do it, and nothing can stop me.
At the closing of her letter, she says:
"It is because we know that these ambitions and capabilities can be fulfilled that we are working to improve the condition of the adult blind. You cannot bring back the light of the vacant eyes; but you can give a helping hand to the sightless along their dark pilgrimage. You can teach them new skill. For work they once did with the aid of their eyes you can substitute work that they can do with their hands. They ask only opportunity, and opportunity is a torch in the darkness. They crave no charity, no pension, but the satisfaction that comes from lucrative toil, and this satisfaction is the right of every human being."
It is because of people like Helen Keller that we have the freedoms and opportunities we do today. My most profound thanks go out to Ms. Keller, and every other person who has worked to make a better tomorrow. It is now, our responsibility as people who are deafblind, to continue the fight for improvement. If we are hoping to go forward, we must fight, every day. It means writing to Congress Men and Women, it means going to meetings and letting your voice be herd. It means teaching and it is about learning. Most of all, it is about never accepting second best-- standing up,being proud, and knowing that we are making a better future.
<"Helen Keller">
Even when I was blind and hearing, I've always had an interest in Helen Keller, and her life.
We all know that she was truly a pioneer of her time. But rarely, do we stop to think about what her time was like. Things were different, then. Attitudes about disability were radically different, and Helen Keller never had the opportunities that we-- as Deafblind people have today. She is often portrayed as an amazing woman, an angelic figure-- admired for her strength of will, and ever-hungering mind. But how did Helen Keller feel about her own situation? How did she feel about her own deafblindness.
In 1906, Helen Keller asked the author Mark Twain to give a speech at the association of promoting the interests of the blind. She was unable to preside herself, and sent her good friend to speak to them. She also sent him with a letter to read at the meeting. It gives us a very clear look into her feelings about blindness.
"To know what the blind man needs, you who can see must imagine what it would be not to see, and you can imagine it more vividly if you remember that before your journey's end you may have to go the dark way yourself. Try to realize what blindness means to those whose joyous activity is stricken to inaction. It is to live long, long days, and life is made up of days. It is to live immured, baffled, impotent, all God's world shut out. It is to sit helpless, defrauded, while your spirit strains and tugs at its fetters, and your shoulders ache for the burden they are denied, the rightful burden of labor. The seeing man goes about his business confident and self-dependent. He does his share of the work of the world in mine, in quarry, in factory, in counting room, asking of others no boon, save the opportunity to do a man's part and to receive the laborer's guerdon. In an instant accident blinds him. The day is blotted out. Night envelops all the visible world. The feet which once bore him to his task with firm and confident stride stumble and halt and fear the forward step. He is forced to a new habit of idleness, which like a canker consumes the mind and destroys its beautiful faculties. Memory confronts him with his lighted past. Amid the tangible ruins of his life as it promised to be he gropes his pitiful way. You have met him on your busy thoroughfares with faltering feet and outstretched hands, patiently "dredging" the universal dark, holding out for sale his petty wares, or his cap for your pennies; and this was a man with ambitions and capabilities."
When I read this for the first time, my heart broke. I can't imagine how a person could carry on, believing such things about themselves. But it is because she did carry on that deafblind people have the lives we do today.
We can work, we are enjoying life, we travel proudly with confidence. I myself have work which is wonderful and satisfying. I have encouraging friends and family, and meaningful social activities. I have the ability to travel independently, where ever, and when ever I wish-- only limited by finances and time, and responsibility. And the fact that my travel can, at times, be curtailed because of my responsibilities is indeed a blessing. People rely on me, they need me to do various things. I am important, and as much as traveling is a pleasure and a blessing, returning home is an even bigger one.
In the beginning of her letter, Helen Keller states:
"It is a great disappointment to me not to be with you and the other friends who have joined their strength to uplift the blind. The meeting in New York will be the greatest occasion in the movement which has so long engaged my heart: and I regret keenly not to be present and feel the inspiration of living contact with such an assembly of wit, wisdom and philanthropy. I shall be happy if I could have spelled into my hand the words as they fall from your lips, and receive, even as it is uttered, the eloquence of our Newest Ambassador to the blind. We have not had such advocates before. My disappointment is softened by the thought that never at any meeting was the right word so sure to be spoken. But, superfluous as all other appeals must seem after you and Mr. Choate have spoken, nevertheless, as I am a woman, I cannot be silent, and I ask you to read this letter, knowing that it will be lifted to eloquence by your kindly voice.."
These things are now possible. Through the use of relay Services, Captioning, and Transcripts, as well as VRS, SSP's and Interpreters, we are far more able to be a part of our own world. I have instant access to books, to information, to things which never have been even dreamed back in Miss Keller's day.
I have never been ashamed to be Deafblind. I have had the blessing of a loving family, with high standards, good and patient teachers, fabulous role-models, and supportive friends. If I want to do something badly enough-- I will do it, and nothing can stop me.
At the closing of her letter, she says:
"It is because we know that these ambitions and capabilities can be fulfilled that we are working to improve the condition of the adult blind. You cannot bring back the light of the vacant eyes; but you can give a helping hand to the sightless along their dark pilgrimage. You can teach them new skill. For work they once did with the aid of their eyes you can substitute work that they can do with their hands. They ask only opportunity, and opportunity is a torch in the darkness. They crave no charity, no pension, but the satisfaction that comes from lucrative toil, and this satisfaction is the right of every human being."
It is because of people like Helen Keller that we have the freedoms and opportunities we do today. My most profound thanks go out to Ms. Keller, and every other person who has worked to make a better tomorrow. It is now, our responsibility as people who are deafblind, to continue the fight for improvement. If we are hoping to go forward, we must fight, every day. It means writing to Congress Men and Women, it means going to meetings and letting your voice be herd. It means teaching and it is about learning. Most of all, it is about never accepting second best-- standing up,being proud, and knowing that we are making a better future.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Deafblind Awareness week: Fun with Pronouns and other randomness
Many people who have never spoken to a deafblind person through the use of relay service or an interpreter may feel rather flustered when they have a conversation ith someone who is deafblind. They want to have a conversation, but it seems intimidating and they are afraid of saying the wrong thing. This is actually a simple process and if you keep these simple rules in mind, you should do fine.
The first thing to remember is that the interpreter or relay communications operator is there for one purpose-- to facilitate communication for a person who is deaf blind. Just pretend they aren't there. This means using the correct pronouns. If you say "Does she want a morning or afternoon appointment?" the operator or interpreter will say exactly that, and I will look at you funny. Talk directly to the deafblind person, just like you would anybody else. "Do you want a morning, or afternoon appointment?"
Talk at a normal speed, at normal volume. The communication facilitator will tell you if they need you to slow down, or speak louder. Look at the deafblind person when you talk to them. Understand that there may be a slight delay while the message is being relayed.
Understand that the interpreter or relay operator will relay *everything*. This means, if you get a phone call from a person who is deafblind, and you turn to your coworker and say: "It's one of those stupid deaf people, can you take this call? I hate this sh*t." This conversation will be relayed to the deafblind person and you will look like a rude jackass. Same thing with an interpreter. If you whisper behind your hands and point at me, I will know about it. If you try to sneak pets of my service dog, when I have asked you to ignore her, I will know about that, too. If you sound pissed off that you have to talk to me, the communication facilitator will tell me. Treat me just like you would a sighted/hearing person. Maybe you are just consistently rude to everyone, but that has not been my experience. People say things about me, or too me, that they would never say if I were hearing. They make gestures at me, or try to do things that they'd never do if I could see. Then when I call them on it, they feel really stupid, angry and embarrassed.
If you are a business owner, you are required by law to take relay calls. There is no excuse valid enough to exempt you from the law. People have gone to court and have won against businesses who will not take relay calls. If you are a business owner, train your employees to be educated about this. Ignorance of the law is no excuse.
If a deafblind person is using an interpreter, everything the interpreter hears while working is privileged and will be kept confidential. Even if you are a family member or spouse of a person who is deafblind, the interpreter cannot share information with you about their client.
Ever since I started using the various kinds of communication facilitators, I have had some very interesting experiences. If I want to call and order a pizza, a task which takes hearing people two minutes takes me ten minutes-- if I'm super lucky. Sometimes it won't happen at all. I'm surprised at the number of people who will just stair at me in public if I use ASL. Many people have no compunction about telling me they are staring. My favorite was a lady, who was taking an ASL class. She was watching my conversation as some kind of self-test. Then she had to come up to me and tell me that she understood all of our conversation. And she acted like I should be proud of her. I said: "So... You get an A in eavesdropping on conversations which don't involve you, then?" The woman was mortified, and tried to make all kinds of excuses. I do admit to feeling a juvenile glee in her discomfort.
If you have stuck with me through this long entry, you deserve a cookie!
The first thing to remember is that the interpreter or relay communications operator is there for one purpose-- to facilitate communication for a person who is deaf blind. Just pretend they aren't there. This means using the correct pronouns. If you say "Does she want a morning or afternoon appointment?" the operator or interpreter will say exactly that, and I will look at you funny. Talk directly to the deafblind person, just like you would anybody else. "Do you want a morning, or afternoon appointment?"
Talk at a normal speed, at normal volume. The communication facilitator will tell you if they need you to slow down, or speak louder. Look at the deafblind person when you talk to them. Understand that there may be a slight delay while the message is being relayed.
Understand that the interpreter or relay operator will relay *everything*. This means, if you get a phone call from a person who is deafblind, and you turn to your coworker and say: "It's one of those stupid deaf people, can you take this call? I hate this sh*t." This conversation will be relayed to the deafblind person and you will look like a rude jackass. Same thing with an interpreter. If you whisper behind your hands and point at me, I will know about it. If you try to sneak pets of my service dog, when I have asked you to ignore her, I will know about that, too. If you sound pissed off that you have to talk to me, the communication facilitator will tell me. Treat me just like you would a sighted/hearing person. Maybe you are just consistently rude to everyone, but that has not been my experience. People say things about me, or too me, that they would never say if I were hearing. They make gestures at me, or try to do things that they'd never do if I could see. Then when I call them on it, they feel really stupid, angry and embarrassed.
If you are a business owner, you are required by law to take relay calls. There is no excuse valid enough to exempt you from the law. People have gone to court and have won against businesses who will not take relay calls. If you are a business owner, train your employees to be educated about this. Ignorance of the law is no excuse.
If a deafblind person is using an interpreter, everything the interpreter hears while working is privileged and will be kept confidential. Even if you are a family member or spouse of a person who is deafblind, the interpreter cannot share information with you about their client.
Ever since I started using the various kinds of communication facilitators, I have had some very interesting experiences. If I want to call and order a pizza, a task which takes hearing people two minutes takes me ten minutes-- if I'm super lucky. Sometimes it won't happen at all. I'm surprised at the number of people who will just stair at me in public if I use ASL. Many people have no compunction about telling me they are staring. My favorite was a lady, who was taking an ASL class. She was watching my conversation as some kind of self-test. Then she had to come up to me and tell me that she understood all of our conversation. And she acted like I should be proud of her. I said: "So... You get an A in eavesdropping on conversations which don't involve you, then?" The woman was mortified, and tried to make all kinds of excuses. I do admit to feeling a juvenile glee in her discomfort.
If you have stuck with me through this long entry, you deserve a cookie!
Monday, June 4, 2012
Deafblind Awareness Week: Communication, baby!
June is National Deafblind Awareness Month. I had all of these plans about different things I could do in my blog to bring attention to Deafblindness and ASL.
And then life happened and I have been busy. But I'm trying.
Thursday I'm attending the 4th annual
<"Helen Keller Deafblind Awareness Day">
We are doing a tour of where I work, and then having a lunch and going to the French Quarter.
People may be thinking how something like this works-- a huge gathering of Deafblind people, who by nature of their condition must only have communication with one person at a time.
So the way this works is that ideally, each Deafblind person would have an SSP or interpreter or two. Two is the best so they can switch out and take breaks. These interpreters or SSPs do several things. They interpret the speaker's words. Even if the speaker, themselves is Deaf or Deafblind, and using ASL, we can't see it, so we need an interpreter to interpret what is being signed. People use ASL tactually, where we actually touch the hands of our interpreters. This is some of the most exhausting work for an interpreter. They usually have a partner so they can give each other breaks. It is just as exhausting for the Deafblind person, because there is only one of us. I am using muscles I didn't even know I had until I became Deaf!
Some deafblind people are hard of hearing and can use speech for communication. They might use a Cochlear implant or hearing aid paired with a sound loop or an FM system, to wirelessly hear the words. If the person who is presenting is voicing for themselves, they will talk into a microphone so everyone can hear, but if the presenter is Deaf using ASL, the person who is hard of hearing will have the words interpreted back into English and spoken into the microphone of their FM System.
Some Deafblind people can see well enough to read ASL visually. Their interpreters use close space signing, where they sign in a smaller area and may need certain lighting accommodations so that the Deafblind person can best make use of their remaining sight. Tracking is where a Deafblind person places their hands atop the signer's wrists. It's kind of like the bridge between close space signing and tactual signing.
Then again, some Deafblind people can see well enough to see the platform interpreter on the stage. It is also there for the people who are Deaf and sighted. So there are a lot of people, requiring all kind of communication styles. It is always so neat to see how it all works. The SSPs also help with things like getting the plates for people, orienting a person to their food on the plate, interpreting any spoken conversation at the table.
Usually when I go to events like this, everyone at the lunch table says who they are, where from, and if they are Deafblind, Hearing/interpreter, SSP, Deaf, or blind and hearing, etc.
I really like eating lunch with Deafblind people because I don't feel like eating is this huge stressful thing to accomplish before I have to stop so I can participate with hearing people.
After the lunch, we are all going to the French Quarter. I love playing tourist there! It is so much fun. I hope I can get lots of pictures taken.
I will try and post something about Deafblindness every few days. If you have any questions, nows the time to ask 'em. I don't want to write about things that people have heard before.
And then life happened and I have been busy. But I'm trying.
Thursday I'm attending the 4th annual
<"Helen Keller Deafblind Awareness Day">
We are doing a tour of where I work, and then having a lunch and going to the French Quarter.
People may be thinking how something like this works-- a huge gathering of Deafblind people, who by nature of their condition must only have communication with one person at a time.
So the way this works is that ideally, each Deafblind person would have an SSP or interpreter or two. Two is the best so they can switch out and take breaks. These interpreters or SSPs do several things. They interpret the speaker's words. Even if the speaker, themselves is Deaf or Deafblind, and using ASL, we can't see it, so we need an interpreter to interpret what is being signed. People use ASL tactually, where we actually touch the hands of our interpreters. This is some of the most exhausting work for an interpreter. They usually have a partner so they can give each other breaks. It is just as exhausting for the Deafblind person, because there is only one of us. I am using muscles I didn't even know I had until I became Deaf!
Some deafblind people are hard of hearing and can use speech for communication. They might use a Cochlear implant or hearing aid paired with a sound loop or an FM system, to wirelessly hear the words. If the person who is presenting is voicing for themselves, they will talk into a microphone so everyone can hear, but if the presenter is Deaf using ASL, the person who is hard of hearing will have the words interpreted back into English and spoken into the microphone of their FM System.
Some Deafblind people can see well enough to read ASL visually. Their interpreters use close space signing, where they sign in a smaller area and may need certain lighting accommodations so that the Deafblind person can best make use of their remaining sight. Tracking is where a Deafblind person places their hands atop the signer's wrists. It's kind of like the bridge between close space signing and tactual signing.
Then again, some Deafblind people can see well enough to see the platform interpreter on the stage. It is also there for the people who are Deaf and sighted. So there are a lot of people, requiring all kind of communication styles. It is always so neat to see how it all works. The SSPs also help with things like getting the plates for people, orienting a person to their food on the plate, interpreting any spoken conversation at the table.
Usually when I go to events like this, everyone at the lunch table says who they are, where from, and if they are Deafblind, Hearing/interpreter, SSP, Deaf, or blind and hearing, etc.
I really like eating lunch with Deafblind people because I don't feel like eating is this huge stressful thing to accomplish before I have to stop so I can participate with hearing people.
After the lunch, we are all going to the French Quarter. I love playing tourist there! It is so much fun. I hope I can get lots of pictures taken.
I will try and post something about Deafblindness every few days. If you have any questions, nows the time to ask 'em. I don't want to write about things that people have heard before.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Don't Panic!
I think every deafblind person needs a manual. A sort of "how to" of deafblind life. I'd call it the Hitchhiker's Guide to your crazy new DEAFBLIND Adventure! And it would have all kinds of helpful sections in it, explaining everything from how to make a relay call to the best way to find an interpreter at an event in another state. This book would be overflowing with informational tidbits, and it would come with a bonus section for deafblind professionals and our particular situations. Don't Panic!
I really could have used this book today when I was asked to attend a lunch meeting. The concept of a lunch meeting is pretty smart-- if you're hearing, or sighted and can gather the information being presented with either eyes or ears, and can use your hands to eat. Since I have yet to grow the additional pair of arms I have been requesting, I don't do lunch meetings very well. I've found my best strategy is to arrive early, try to be first for food, go off to my corner and eat as much as I can before it starts. Even better than that would be to eat ahead of time, but usually the mornings on the days of lunch meetings are jam packed and I don't have time to eat. Such was the case for today.
I arrived early, get in line and grab my plate. Lunch for today is salad, chicken breast, and fruit. This is not good because meals where I have to use my fork and knife like a civilized adult take longer to eat than a sandwich which is also easier to save should I be unable to have any before the meeting starts. My interpreter finds me a corner where I sit down and begin to eat. I get about half way done with my salad, and am about two bites into my chicken which is actually good-- unlike most of the stuff that is served at meetings of this nature, no matter your location. I go to take another bite when my interpreter taps me on the arm, indicating we are about to start. No more eating for me, my 2.5 minutes are up and it's time to participate in the meeting and secretly regret that Santa did not see fit to bless me with even one more arm because I did not eat breakfast and would like to have some fruit.
But business waits for no man, or woman and so we are off! ... until my interpreter-- in an over-exuberant use of elbows- knocks my glass of tea into my chicken and in one swift motion, unites the two, in a fit of tea-flavored chicken goodness. The interpreters switch out, and another one takes the place of the one I had while he runs for napkins to clean up the mess. There went my lunch! Oh well, I didn't have time to eat it anyway! And at least this time it wasn't me who did it!
I was really hungry when I finally arrived home! Good thing Mister Pawpower made me pork enchiladas! They were better than chicken any old day!
I really could have used this book today when I was asked to attend a lunch meeting. The concept of a lunch meeting is pretty smart-- if you're hearing, or sighted and can gather the information being presented with either eyes or ears, and can use your hands to eat. Since I have yet to grow the additional pair of arms I have been requesting, I don't do lunch meetings very well. I've found my best strategy is to arrive early, try to be first for food, go off to my corner and eat as much as I can before it starts. Even better than that would be to eat ahead of time, but usually the mornings on the days of lunch meetings are jam packed and I don't have time to eat. Such was the case for today.
I arrived early, get in line and grab my plate. Lunch for today is salad, chicken breast, and fruit. This is not good because meals where I have to use my fork and knife like a civilized adult take longer to eat than a sandwich which is also easier to save should I be unable to have any before the meeting starts. My interpreter finds me a corner where I sit down and begin to eat. I get about half way done with my salad, and am about two bites into my chicken which is actually good-- unlike most of the stuff that is served at meetings of this nature, no matter your location. I go to take another bite when my interpreter taps me on the arm, indicating we are about to start. No more eating for me, my 2.5 minutes are up and it's time to participate in the meeting and secretly regret that Santa did not see fit to bless me with even one more arm because I did not eat breakfast and would like to have some fruit.
But business waits for no man, or woman and so we are off! ... until my interpreter-- in an over-exuberant use of elbows- knocks my glass of tea into my chicken and in one swift motion, unites the two, in a fit of tea-flavored chicken goodness. The interpreters switch out, and another one takes the place of the one I had while he runs for napkins to clean up the mess. There went my lunch! Oh well, I didn't have time to eat it anyway! And at least this time it wasn't me who did it!
I was really hungry when I finally arrived home! Good thing Mister Pawpower made me pork enchiladas! They were better than chicken any old day!
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Catchup post #1: Jazzfest 2012!
I've been a busy Zebra these last weeks so here come a bunch of "catch up posts!
Last weekend was the second week of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, or as we call it-- Jazzfest. Yes, I'm deaf and blind, and yes, I look forward to this festival every year. You can read about some of reasons Many PWD enjoy attending the fest, and you might see a familiar face in the article
<"here">
People always ask me, why a person who is both deaf and blind wants to go to a music festival? And it's really hard to explain.
First of all, I do get tactual ASL interpreters for the performances I attend. And even if I didn't, I'd probably still go. I love walking around the race track with my friends, scoping out all of the food options, visiting with other friends in the access tent and just taking it all in. Oh and watching my dog work it all! I mean, literally thousands of people-- traveling the pathways, standing in groups talking, standing in lines, or just dancing. She guides me around them all, and then takes a nap during the concerts or when I stop to eat. I am amazed by her flawless work at this festival every year.
This year was no exception. I started picking the acts I wanted to see in January and only came to a decision in early April. In the morning, I saw Big Sam's funky nation. It was a great deal of fun. They are a local band, but I try to see one local group every year since I never usually get to see them with an interpreter.
The second group I saw was the Eagles. Yes, those Eagles, and yes, they are old but still rocking their guitars, even Joe Walsh, who has no teeth, by now. When they came on stage, my interpreter told me how old they looked, but that they were sounding great. You can go to Youtube and see some of the songs they did, such as
<"Life In The Fast Lane">
<"Desperado">
<"Hotel California">
and
<"Peaceful Easy Feeling">
I sat right next to the stage, and Laveau *slept* or at least laid down and chilled in the wooden box which is set up for the platform interpreters who sign for the sighted deaf during the performance. One of the sides of this box is open and Laveau spent this performance-- as she has the past four years of performances-- chillin in the box. As one Jazz Fest worker put it: "Oh, there's the dog who sleeps through rock concerts!"
This was an amazing show, brought to life for me through the combined talents of the band and of my interpreters! The weather was beautiful, with enough sun to keep it from raining, enough wind to keep the air moving, and enough clouds, to keep from baking.
Now I have to wait a whole year until my next Jazzfest! I think my arms will be rested by then!
Last weekend was the second week of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, or as we call it-- Jazzfest. Yes, I'm deaf and blind, and yes, I look forward to this festival every year. You can read about some of reasons Many PWD enjoy attending the fest, and you might see a familiar face in the article
<"here">
People always ask me, why a person who is both deaf and blind wants to go to a music festival? And it's really hard to explain.
First of all, I do get tactual ASL interpreters for the performances I attend. And even if I didn't, I'd probably still go. I love walking around the race track with my friends, scoping out all of the food options, visiting with other friends in the access tent and just taking it all in. Oh and watching my dog work it all! I mean, literally thousands of people-- traveling the pathways, standing in groups talking, standing in lines, or just dancing. She guides me around them all, and then takes a nap during the concerts or when I stop to eat. I am amazed by her flawless work at this festival every year.
This year was no exception. I started picking the acts I wanted to see in January and only came to a decision in early April. In the morning, I saw Big Sam's funky nation. It was a great deal of fun. They are a local band, but I try to see one local group every year since I never usually get to see them with an interpreter.
The second group I saw was the Eagles. Yes, those Eagles, and yes, they are old but still rocking their guitars, even Joe Walsh, who has no teeth, by now. When they came on stage, my interpreter told me how old they looked, but that they were sounding great. You can go to Youtube and see some of the songs they did, such as
<"Life In The Fast Lane">
<"Desperado">
<"Hotel California">
and
<"Peaceful Easy Feeling">
I sat right next to the stage, and Laveau *slept* or at least laid down and chilled in the wooden box which is set up for the platform interpreters who sign for the sighted deaf during the performance. One of the sides of this box is open and Laveau spent this performance-- as she has the past four years of performances-- chillin in the box. As one Jazz Fest worker put it: "Oh, there's the dog who sleeps through rock concerts!"
This was an amazing show, brought to life for me through the combined talents of the band and of my interpreters! The weather was beautiful, with enough sun to keep it from raining, enough wind to keep the air moving, and enough clouds, to keep from baking.
Now I have to wait a whole year until my next Jazzfest! I think my arms will be rested by then!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Turning Over A New Leaf
In 2006, while waiting in the limbo which was my exile in Memphis after the failure of the federal levees, I went to herbalist school. I had always been interested in herbs, and loved to experience them in all of their many forms. Since I had the time, it made sense to finally make a dream a reality.
I signed up for a course. I read about teas, tinctures and poultices. I learned the history of the different ways of practicing herbal medicine. I started my own little herb collection. At first, it was contained in a three-drawer plastic cabinet. Now my collection resides in a six-foot tall cupboard of solid oak, made for me by the husband of a client.
If you give me an herb, I can tell you about it. Where it grows, how it was used in ancient times, and what function it performs. I can tell you the best way to prepare it. I can do it all, but I have a secret herbalist shame.
I have a black thumb. Yes, you read right. I cannot keep plants alive to save my life. Growing up, I spent summers in my mother's large garden. I helped to plant and care for the various vegetables and fruits. In the summer months, I was sent out to pick raspberries or rhubarb. You'd think that this background, and my interest in herbs would combine to make me a wonderful gardener. But you would be wrong, dead wrong. And dead is usually where my plants end up.
I have decided to try once again to cultivate some skill in this area. To that end, I went to the nursery with my SSP on Friday.
The nursery in question is famous for the green parrots which fly around outside, and even enter into the store itself. You can frequently see store workers walking around with beautiful green parrots on their shoulders. Even though I don't have a green thumb, I have always liked going to the Green Parrot Nursery.
My SSP and I arrive. We begin touching and sniffing the different herbs. Oregano, thyme, and shallots. Orange Mint, Pepper Mint, and Mojito Mint. Several different kinds of Lavender, Rosemary and Lemon Balm. I touched and sniffed them all. Then I tasted some.
We had a great deal of fun walking amongst the tiny pots with their contents bursting forth. I picked out four plants to start. Mojito Mint, Apple Mint, Lemon Balm, and Rosemary. I went in to pay, and my SSP was describing the parrots to me. One of them was enjoying a snack with one of the workers at the shop. The man had a hamburger, and he took little bites off of his sandwich, and placed them upon his knee. The bird would fly down, pick up the bite, and return to the man's shoulder. I didn't know that green parrots had blue and other colors on them as well. This is one of the reasons I love going places with my SSP-- I have my very own describer.
We loaded the herbs into the car and drove to Walmart to look at flower pots. Unfortunately, the only ones that would work for my herbs were a horrible beige color. This would not do, not at all. However, there wasn't really any other choice, and I still had to make groceries, and my SSP time would be running out. Finally I decided to get the ugly pots and then we went to the children's section and got some finger paints. They are bright, primary colors and will work to make my pots less boring.
Today, my project is to paint the pots. Once they dry, I will let the baby herbs move into their newly painted homes.
Now, if someone can just remind me to water them, I'll be set.
I signed up for a course. I read about teas, tinctures and poultices. I learned the history of the different ways of practicing herbal medicine. I started my own little herb collection. At first, it was contained in a three-drawer plastic cabinet. Now my collection resides in a six-foot tall cupboard of solid oak, made for me by the husband of a client.
If you give me an herb, I can tell you about it. Where it grows, how it was used in ancient times, and what function it performs. I can tell you the best way to prepare it. I can do it all, but I have a secret herbalist shame.
I have a black thumb. Yes, you read right. I cannot keep plants alive to save my life. Growing up, I spent summers in my mother's large garden. I helped to plant and care for the various vegetables and fruits. In the summer months, I was sent out to pick raspberries or rhubarb. You'd think that this background, and my interest in herbs would combine to make me a wonderful gardener. But you would be wrong, dead wrong. And dead is usually where my plants end up.
I have decided to try once again to cultivate some skill in this area. To that end, I went to the nursery with my SSP on Friday.
The nursery in question is famous for the green parrots which fly around outside, and even enter into the store itself. You can frequently see store workers walking around with beautiful green parrots on their shoulders. Even though I don't have a green thumb, I have always liked going to the Green Parrot Nursery.
My SSP and I arrive. We begin touching and sniffing the different herbs. Oregano, thyme, and shallots. Orange Mint, Pepper Mint, and Mojito Mint. Several different kinds of Lavender, Rosemary and Lemon Balm. I touched and sniffed them all. Then I tasted some.
We had a great deal of fun walking amongst the tiny pots with their contents bursting forth. I picked out four plants to start. Mojito Mint, Apple Mint, Lemon Balm, and Rosemary. I went in to pay, and my SSP was describing the parrots to me. One of them was enjoying a snack with one of the workers at the shop. The man had a hamburger, and he took little bites off of his sandwich, and placed them upon his knee. The bird would fly down, pick up the bite, and return to the man's shoulder. I didn't know that green parrots had blue and other colors on them as well. This is one of the reasons I love going places with my SSP-- I have my very own describer.
We loaded the herbs into the car and drove to Walmart to look at flower pots. Unfortunately, the only ones that would work for my herbs were a horrible beige color. This would not do, not at all. However, there wasn't really any other choice, and I still had to make groceries, and my SSP time would be running out. Finally I decided to get the ugly pots and then we went to the children's section and got some finger paints. They are bright, primary colors and will work to make my pots less boring.
Today, my project is to paint the pots. Once they dry, I will let the baby herbs move into their newly painted homes.
Now, if someone can just remind me to water them, I'll be set.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Adventures with my Babelfish
I've had this hearing aid now for almost three years. It is my second aid and was, at the time of purchase, the best of the best as far as power. I have named all of my hearing aids Babelfish. If you don't know what a Babelfish is, you need to read
So this Babelfish has been limping along for some time now. First it was my mould that stop working, and then it got too quiet. I have been practicing the technique of avoidance-- hearing aid adjustments mess up my vertigo so much!
On Tuesday, the ear hook which holds the mould on to the processor broke and that meant a trip to the Audis.
She was able to fix the hook, and then she said that I'm now at the point in this whole long slow death of ear function where it begins to be more about clarity, rather than volume. They can continue turning things up and up and up. I may be able to hear them, but my understanding will get less and less because everything will start sounding like the teacher in the Peanuts with Charlie Brown. I have noticed this happening more and more. It's very hard to explain to hearing people because it is automatically assumed that volume is the problem, when it's clarity.
Basically this means that I need another new Babelfish. Because I am not rich, and my insurance is crappy, I rely on grants to help purchase my aid. I'm just glad I only hear out of one ear, so we don't have to double the cost to buy one for my right side. Lol!
So to qualify for this grant, I had to take yet another... audiogram, which I did, and boy those tests are short when you can't hear! Lol! I remember when I first started losing my hearing and I'd be in there for 20-30 minutes. This last one took maybe seven minutes tops, including all of the hooking, and unhooking of wires. So I did crappy enough on the test, and my Audi is going to submit the grant which will get me a newer and probably clearer Babelfish. I've been growing out of these hearing aids at the rate of one every three years. This came right on schedule. My Audi did bring up the topic of cochlear implants with me and this is tricky for several reasons. Both physical and cultural. She suggested doing the right ear since it's useless anyway. But the possible Meniere's side-effects make this undesirable. Like I said to a friend-- I can live as a deaf person, but I can't really live as a dizzy person who can't even feed herself.
I lived through the whole experience and now I am home, the Babelfish is out and I get quiet once again.
I think I hear a book calling and need to do some laundry now that the puppy is actually, y'know, asleep.
So this Babelfish has been limping along for some time now. First it was my mould that stop working, and then it got too quiet. I have been practicing the technique of avoidance-- hearing aid adjustments mess up my vertigo so much!
On Tuesday, the ear hook which holds the mould on to the processor broke and that meant a trip to the Audis.
She was able to fix the hook, and then she said that I'm now at the point in this whole long slow death of ear function where it begins to be more about clarity, rather than volume. They can continue turning things up and up and up. I may be able to hear them, but my understanding will get less and less because everything will start sounding like the teacher in the Peanuts with Charlie Brown. I have noticed this happening more and more. It's very hard to explain to hearing people because it is automatically assumed that volume is the problem, when it's clarity.
Basically this means that I need another new Babelfish. Because I am not rich, and my insurance is crappy, I rely on grants to help purchase my aid. I'm just glad I only hear out of one ear, so we don't have to double the cost to buy one for my right side. Lol!
So to qualify for this grant, I had to take yet another... audiogram, which I did, and boy those tests are short when you can't hear! Lol! I remember when I first started losing my hearing and I'd be in there for 20-30 minutes. This last one took maybe seven minutes tops, including all of the hooking, and unhooking of wires. So I did crappy enough on the test, and my Audi is going to submit the grant which will get me a newer and probably clearer Babelfish. I've been growing out of these hearing aids at the rate of one every three years. This came right on schedule. My Audi did bring up the topic of cochlear implants with me and this is tricky for several reasons. Both physical and cultural. She suggested doing the right ear since it's useless anyway. But the possible Meniere's side-effects make this undesirable. Like I said to a friend-- I can live as a deaf person, but I can't really live as a dizzy person who can't even feed herself.
I lived through the whole experience and now I am home, the Babelfish is out and I get quiet once again.
I think I hear a book calling and need to do some laundry now that the puppy is actually, y'know, asleep.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Spring
Spring time in New Orleans. Fresh strawberries and that Strawberry Abita beer I love so much. Flowers and shrubs blooming everywhere. Those nasty stinging caterpillars dropping out of nowhere to leave you with a souvenir of their passing which will last for days. This time of year is the same time six years ago when I made my way out of exile in Memphis, TN. back home after the failure of the federal levees.
There is a section of "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran which sums up my leaving of Memphis well.
"Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands."
On the 26th of March, I packed my worldly goods into a U-Haul and drove back home. I was coming home to much welcome, but also to much work.
I remember getting out of the car once we had arrived at my new temporary home. The city still had that smell. It's an undefinable smell, mixed of equal parts decay, death, and desolation. And the mold... we must not forget the mold.
That night, friends had come to help us move our things. After unloading the truck, we trooped over to Franky and Johnny's for some soul food.
Those first few weeks were a blur. I saw clients every day with stories of being pulled from rooftops, watching their children die, and floating on kitchen appliances in filthy waters. I listened. I helped where I could.
Things started getting quieter and quieter in my world. I couldn't hear the phone. I couldn't hear my clients or coworkers. In six weeks my hearing was gone, and I didn't know what I would do. I was in a city with very limited medical services. The wait to see an audiologist is long. He is so shocked by the sudden loss, and he fears I may have some obscure form of inner ear cancer.
I wait some more, finally get an MRI, and wait some more only to find out that I do not have obscure and deadly ear tumors. But I'm still deaf, and navigating a city full of crime and debris which would easily fall into the category of biohazardous totally deaf and almost totally blind. I was more alone and afraid than I can ever remember being.
The doctors tell me that it's the mold in the city which has caused my inner ear disease to flair up and take my hearing. It's like a bad country-western song. "Katrina done took my house and my hearing and my city." The only thing missing is a part about trains and betrayed love.
People ask me if I regret coming back. If I knew what would happen to me, would I have gone back? And my answer will always be hell yes! Because I would rather be deaf in New Orleans than hearing and live anywhere else.
The New Orleans native and author Poppy Z. Brite once said:
"If you belong somewhere, if a place takes you in and you take it into yourself, you don't desert it because it can kill you."
I have known from the very moment I first arrived here. On that gray and rainy day nine years ago. I knew that this is where I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I want to work here, and be in love here, and train dogs here. When I am old, I want to sit on my porch here, and drink whisky in my lemonade on muggy July afternoons. And I want to die here, and I want this place to be better for me having been a part of it. I am certainly better for it being a part of me.
This whole time, when I struggled every day for simple communication, I took strength from my clients. They would tell me how I gave them hope for the future. But what they would never know is that really, it was the other way around.
And so it's spring again-- a time which makes me think about great love, and great inspiration. It makes me think of renewal and redemption and hope.
And I pass one more season under a sky of vibrant blue, sitting on my porch drinking Strawberry Abita beer and knowing that I am truly blessed.
There is a section of "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran which sums up my leaving of Memphis well.
"Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands."
On the 26th of March, I packed my worldly goods into a U-Haul and drove back home. I was coming home to much welcome, but also to much work.
I remember getting out of the car once we had arrived at my new temporary home. The city still had that smell. It's an undefinable smell, mixed of equal parts decay, death, and desolation. And the mold... we must not forget the mold.
That night, friends had come to help us move our things. After unloading the truck, we trooped over to Franky and Johnny's for some soul food.
Those first few weeks were a blur. I saw clients every day with stories of being pulled from rooftops, watching their children die, and floating on kitchen appliances in filthy waters. I listened. I helped where I could.
Things started getting quieter and quieter in my world. I couldn't hear the phone. I couldn't hear my clients or coworkers. In six weeks my hearing was gone, and I didn't know what I would do. I was in a city with very limited medical services. The wait to see an audiologist is long. He is so shocked by the sudden loss, and he fears I may have some obscure form of inner ear cancer.
I wait some more, finally get an MRI, and wait some more only to find out that I do not have obscure and deadly ear tumors. But I'm still deaf, and navigating a city full of crime and debris which would easily fall into the category of biohazardous totally deaf and almost totally blind. I was more alone and afraid than I can ever remember being.
The doctors tell me that it's the mold in the city which has caused my inner ear disease to flair up and take my hearing. It's like a bad country-western song. "Katrina done took my house and my hearing and my city." The only thing missing is a part about trains and betrayed love.
People ask me if I regret coming back. If I knew what would happen to me, would I have gone back? And my answer will always be hell yes! Because I would rather be deaf in New Orleans than hearing and live anywhere else.
The New Orleans native and author Poppy Z. Brite once said:
"If you belong somewhere, if a place takes you in and you take it into yourself, you don't desert it because it can kill you."
I have known from the very moment I first arrived here. On that gray and rainy day nine years ago. I knew that this is where I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I want to work here, and be in love here, and train dogs here. When I am old, I want to sit on my porch here, and drink whisky in my lemonade on muggy July afternoons. And I want to die here, and I want this place to be better for me having been a part of it. I am certainly better for it being a part of me.
This whole time, when I struggled every day for simple communication, I took strength from my clients. They would tell me how I gave them hope for the future. But what they would never know is that really, it was the other way around.
And so it's spring again-- a time which makes me think about great love, and great inspiration. It makes me think of renewal and redemption and hope.
And I pass one more season under a sky of vibrant blue, sitting on my porch drinking Strawberry Abita beer and knowing that I am truly blessed.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
A Scotsman Clad In Kilts...
Well actually he was an Irishman... Today was the St. Patrick's day parade. This is my second-favorite parade of the year. What can I say-- I'm a fan of men in kilts, and of bagpipes. My friend and I had arrived at the parade route, and had obtained the requisite Guinness from a local store. While standing around on the sidewalk drinking our beer (remember-- this is New Orleans and we can do that here without getting sent to the pokey), anyway, we were standing around drinking our beer, when we met up with a group of men in kilts. Apparently they were from New York City. They were transit drivers there and had a marching club with bagpipes. They came to march in our parade. I'd never seen bagpipes before so asked my friend to describe them. She decided to ask one of the players if I could touch his bagpipes instead of explaining it herself. That's when I met Mark. Who very patiently explained to me about bagpipes, and then showed me how to hold it. I put the bag under my arm, and the pipes on my shoulder, and then he put air in the bag and played the bagpipes. I could feel the vibrations from when the bag inflated, and the notes from the pipes vibrating my whole body. It was crazy. He showed me how you put your fingers on the holes in the breathing pipe and that's how you make the different notes. If I ever took up bagpipes I'd have to get one for smaller hands because the holes were spaced too far apart for me to keep my fingers in the right place. All in all, it was a very interesting experience. I have pictures, and need to upload them to Flickr for everyone to see. We saw the parade, and I caught a bunch of beads, a huge cabbage bigger than my head, a moon pie, which I gave to Mister Pawpower when I came home, a bag of conversation hearts, a stress ball in the shape of a carrot, three footballs for Laveau, and a flower for my hair. Oh and someone threw go cups from the parade, and they hit me in the head, so I kept them. That's what I get for being blind and not catching things. Laveau was very tired and slept for a good two hours after we got home. I gave her a knuckle bone to chew when we got home for doing such a good job. It was a lot of walking and I am very tired. I hope everyone had a happy St. Patrick's day. Also, I would be forever grateful for good recipes which use cabbage. Did I mention I have a huge cabbage to use up? Now that I've slathered noxzema all over my very sunburned face, I think I will read for a while! Be safe, y'all!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Sense on the Edge-- my review of new products from Hims
Today I met with a rep. from Hims and got a look at the Braille Sense U2 and Braille Edge. I came away really impressed.
The Braille Sense U2 is a traditional notetaker with Perkins-style keyboard. It has 32 cells, a 1GHz mobile CPU and a 32 gb hard disk. It has a small screen on the top of the unit which a DB person could use as part of a face-to-face communication system. The screen can also be disabled if you are so inclined.
The unit comes with the usual suite of applications found on most blindness-specific PDAs. Word processor, planner, file manager, email and internet, database manager and games as well as media such as mp3 player and memo recorder. I obviously didn't check out any of the media functions but I looked at all other programs and they seemed straightforward and easy to use. The unit also comes with GPS and a client for Twitter, Google Talk, and MSN messenger. I really liked that they included a switch to lock the keyboard and braille display when not in use. I can't tell you how many times my Apex has gotten buttons pushed while in my bag.
The unit seems sturdy and well-made. It also has a vibration feature-- great for DB people. You can get alarms, and system alerts as vibrations instead of sound.
The unit has 3 standard A USB ports, an ethernet jack, as well as a VGA port, and SD card slot. It has built-in WIFI and supports USB 3g modems.
The Braille Edge is a new 40 cell braille display with some note-taker functions. While the Braille Sense U2 has synthetic speech output in addition to braille, the Braille Edge does not have any speech and uses only braille.
In addition to its use as a display, this unit has a notepad, alarm, count down timer, stopwatch, calculator, and scheduler functions. This unit does not come with either a screen or built-in vibration.
The Braille Edge can be used as a USB or bluetooth display. It also has a slot for an SD card for storing files.
Over-all, I was very impressed with these products. While I personally don't see myself relying heavily on blindness-specific PDAs due to their smaller size and limited available to run third-party applications, something like the Braille Sense U2 would be great for a person who is not interested in an iDevice, or other off-the-shelf option. I can see both of these products being of great benefit to students, and people first learning braille, or assistive technology.
The products are repaired in Austin, TX. Hims says that repair time is five business days. If the unit cannot be fixed during this time period, Hims will send the user a loaner unit until the repairs are complete.
The Braille Sense U2 is a traditional notetaker with Perkins-style keyboard. It has 32 cells, a 1GHz mobile CPU and a 32 gb hard disk. It has a small screen on the top of the unit which a DB person could use as part of a face-to-face communication system. The screen can also be disabled if you are so inclined.
The unit comes with the usual suite of applications found on most blindness-specific PDAs. Word processor, planner, file manager, email and internet, database manager and games as well as media such as mp3 player and memo recorder. I obviously didn't check out any of the media functions but I looked at all other programs and they seemed straightforward and easy to use. The unit also comes with GPS and a client for Twitter, Google Talk, and MSN messenger. I really liked that they included a switch to lock the keyboard and braille display when not in use. I can't tell you how many times my Apex has gotten buttons pushed while in my bag.
The unit seems sturdy and well-made. It also has a vibration feature-- great for DB people. You can get alarms, and system alerts as vibrations instead of sound.
The unit has 3 standard A USB ports, an ethernet jack, as well as a VGA port, and SD card slot. It has built-in WIFI and supports USB 3g modems.
The Braille Edge is a new 40 cell braille display with some note-taker functions. While the Braille Sense U2 has synthetic speech output in addition to braille, the Braille Edge does not have any speech and uses only braille.
In addition to its use as a display, this unit has a notepad, alarm, count down timer, stopwatch, calculator, and scheduler functions. This unit does not come with either a screen or built-in vibration.
The Braille Edge can be used as a USB or bluetooth display. It also has a slot for an SD card for storing files.
Over-all, I was very impressed with these products. While I personally don't see myself relying heavily on blindness-specific PDAs due to their smaller size and limited available to run third-party applications, something like the Braille Sense U2 would be great for a person who is not interested in an iDevice, or other off-the-shelf option. I can see both of these products being of great benefit to students, and people first learning braille, or assistive technology.
The products are repaired in Austin, TX. Hims says that repair time is five business days. If the unit cannot be fixed during this time period, Hims will send the user a loaner unit until the repairs are complete.
Friday, March 2, 2012
The Boil on her Back-Side
Juuuuuuuuuuuuuust when I think I have heard every idiotic, moronic, ignorant, and thoughtless thing the general public can possibly say to me and/or my friends/family/communication facilitators....
somebody opens their mouth and proves me wrong... yet, again!
today is my usual day for running errands with my SSP. I needed to go into Radio Shak. My SSP was helping me when the man behind the counter suddenly turned to my SSP and said:
"You know, you're going to make a man a great wife one day-- you must have the patients of Job."
I'm probably not the most up to date on my Bible scholarship-- but wasn't Job the dude with boils, and plague, and all of these problems? So if my SSP is Job, logic must therefore dictate that I am the boil on Job's backside.
Which, if I took myself less seriously than I do could possibly really cheese me off.
I mean, do people just... not! think about what comes out of their mouthes?
My SSP and I are always getting strange people telling us how brave/inspirational/wonderful/heroic/beautiful it is that we are out buying a bunch of groceries. So now it's a game. We are keeping track of who gets the most ridiculous compliments. So far she has the patience of Job and I am a miracle sent from heaven.
somebody opens their mouth and proves me wrong... yet, again!
today is my usual day for running errands with my SSP. I needed to go into Radio Shak. My SSP was helping me when the man behind the counter suddenly turned to my SSP and said:
"You know, you're going to make a man a great wife one day-- you must have the patients of Job."
I'm probably not the most up to date on my Bible scholarship-- but wasn't Job the dude with boils, and plague, and all of these problems? So if my SSP is Job, logic must therefore dictate that I am the boil on Job's backside.
Which, if I took myself less seriously than I do could possibly really cheese me off.
I mean, do people just... not! think about what comes out of their mouthes?
My SSP and I are always getting strange people telling us how brave/inspirational/wonderful/heroic/beautiful it is that we are out buying a bunch of groceries. So now it's a game. We are keeping track of who gets the most ridiculous compliments. So far she has the patience of Job and I am a miracle sent from heaven.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Misadventures in the Red Stick
On Thursday I needed to travel to Baton Rouge for a meeting. This requires four buses and then a ride to the meeting place once I arrived in BR. The first bus picked me up at my house around 9 am. I was dropped off at the public library where I waited to take the bus to Baton Rouge.
I read email and texted. A Deaf friend of mine saw me waiting and came over to chat. Apparently the supervisor for the bus had been trying to talk to me and didn't know I was deaf so my friend's friend who was hearing came over and through a series of he said/she said/he said kind of translations, the supervisor told me that the bus was coming at 10:50. I would have gotten out my gizmo for face-to-face communications but I didn't know someone was trying to talk to me.
I got on the bus and amused myself for the two-hour long ride. Eventually I ended up at the station in Baton Rouge and walked around until I could find someone to show me to the rest room.
When I got out, my ride was there to take me to the building where the meeting was. We arrived and I met my interpreters. The meeting was three hours long, and after about two hours my arms were hurting and I needed a little break. I was a bit embarrassed to ask for one but I did anyway. Everyone got up to take a break and I asked my interpreters to show me where the bathroom was.
I should probably back up and say that interpreting for deafblind people is different than for sighted deaf. With deafblind interpreting, there is a lot more describing of the environment that goes on in addition to just straight interpreting. For example, before a meeting starts, an interpreter for a deafblind person describes the room, how it is laid out, who is doing what, any identifying characteristics of people. There were a couple wheelchair users at this particular meeting so my interpreters told me about that. This way I'd have a better idea that those people would be taking up space differently than a person who doesn't use a wheelchair.
So I had my SSP guide me to the restroom. We reach the door, and I step inside and turn around to ask my interpreter to explain to me how the restroom was laid out; e.g. where was the toilet, soap dispenser, paper towels and sink. Obviously, a bathroom is not the kind of place you want to explore tactually! Ewww! Only when I turned around to ask, my interpreter wasn't there. I stepped back out of the bathroom, and asked someone to explain the bathroom lay-out to me, but the person wasn't my interpreter. However, she did kindly fetch my interpreter who explained where everything was. I joked about getting lost and never coming out again.
Eventually!!! PAH!!! The meeting was over, back to the bus station, only this time the transfer to the bus didn't go smoothly. The bus driver demanded "an identification card for the dog." However under federal law, a business owner or employee may not demand such identification as a condition of access. The person may ask if I am a person with a disability, if my dog is a service dog, and what tasks my dog does to mitigate my disability/s. This driver did not ask those questions, however. He kept insisting on identification. I told him that I'd call the police and press charges. Denial of access to a person with a disability accompanied by an assistance dog is a class-C misdemeanor in the state of Louisiana which is punishable by a fine and/or jail time. The bus driver yelled, and told me that it was his bus and he didn't have to obey the law because his only rules were that of the bus company. I asked if he'd care to place a wager on that. He yelled some more and told me that people would be afraid of my dog (who was being very threatening and fear-inducing by standing next to me calmly doing counterbalance work while I held her handle) The driver then called his supervisor. To his surprise, the supervisor made him let me on the bus.
The driver then told me that if anyone was afraid of my dog that he would park the bus and refuse to move and that I would make everyone late and that he would announce to the bus at large that we were not moving because I refused to remove my dog from the bus and that the dog was causing fear amongst the other passengers.
Too bad for him, nobody was afraid of the dog and she lay under my seat while I read email and blogs for the ride home. Once again I was dropped off at my public library and waited for the last bus of the day to take me home. It was over an hour late, and it was ten p.m. when I finally walked through the front door. I was gone again the next day by seven-thirty am.
I'm glad I don't have meetings like this often!
I read email and texted. A Deaf friend of mine saw me waiting and came over to chat. Apparently the supervisor for the bus had been trying to talk to me and didn't know I was deaf so my friend's friend who was hearing came over and through a series of he said/she said/he said kind of translations, the supervisor told me that the bus was coming at 10:50. I would have gotten out my gizmo for face-to-face communications but I didn't know someone was trying to talk to me.
I got on the bus and amused myself for the two-hour long ride. Eventually I ended up at the station in Baton Rouge and walked around until I could find someone to show me to the rest room.
When I got out, my ride was there to take me to the building where the meeting was. We arrived and I met my interpreters. The meeting was three hours long, and after about two hours my arms were hurting and I needed a little break. I was a bit embarrassed to ask for one but I did anyway. Everyone got up to take a break and I asked my interpreters to show me where the bathroom was.
I should probably back up and say that interpreting for deafblind people is different than for sighted deaf. With deafblind interpreting, there is a lot more describing of the environment that goes on in addition to just straight interpreting. For example, before a meeting starts, an interpreter for a deafblind person describes the room, how it is laid out, who is doing what, any identifying characteristics of people. There were a couple wheelchair users at this particular meeting so my interpreters told me about that. This way I'd have a better idea that those people would be taking up space differently than a person who doesn't use a wheelchair.
So I had my SSP guide me to the restroom. We reach the door, and I step inside and turn around to ask my interpreter to explain to me how the restroom was laid out; e.g. where was the toilet, soap dispenser, paper towels and sink. Obviously, a bathroom is not the kind of place you want to explore tactually! Ewww! Only when I turned around to ask, my interpreter wasn't there. I stepped back out of the bathroom, and asked someone to explain the bathroom lay-out to me, but the person wasn't my interpreter. However, she did kindly fetch my interpreter who explained where everything was. I joked about getting lost and never coming out again.
Eventually!!! PAH!!! The meeting was over, back to the bus station, only this time the transfer to the bus didn't go smoothly. The bus driver demanded "an identification card for the dog." However under federal law, a business owner or employee may not demand such identification as a condition of access. The person may ask if I am a person with a disability, if my dog is a service dog, and what tasks my dog does to mitigate my disability/s. This driver did not ask those questions, however. He kept insisting on identification. I told him that I'd call the police and press charges. Denial of access to a person with a disability accompanied by an assistance dog is a class-C misdemeanor in the state of Louisiana which is punishable by a fine and/or jail time. The bus driver yelled, and told me that it was his bus and he didn't have to obey the law because his only rules were that of the bus company. I asked if he'd care to place a wager on that. He yelled some more and told me that people would be afraid of my dog (who was being very threatening and fear-inducing by standing next to me calmly doing counterbalance work while I held her handle) The driver then called his supervisor. To his surprise, the supervisor made him let me on the bus.
The driver then told me that if anyone was afraid of my dog that he would park the bus and refuse to move and that I would make everyone late and that he would announce to the bus at large that we were not moving because I refused to remove my dog from the bus and that the dog was causing fear amongst the other passengers.
Too bad for him, nobody was afraid of the dog and she lay under my seat while I read email and blogs for the ride home. Once again I was dropped off at my public library and waited for the last bus of the day to take me home. It was over an hour late, and it was ten p.m. when I finally walked through the front door. I was gone again the next day by seven-thirty am.
I'm glad I don't have meetings like this often!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Random brain dump
Part of my job requires that I do presentations on various topics to groups of people (mostly school children). Today I attended an "Abilities Awareness Day" held at a middle school. My interpreter arrived just shortly after I did. We have known one another for a couple of years now, but rarely get to work together. We spent a while just chatting and catching up which was nice.
Then the presentation started. As did the questions. One young gentleman asked me if I was married. A young lady asked me why I needed a dog if I had an interpreter. I think I'll pass on the guide human, thanks. One young man called Laveau a "statue" because she was holding so still. He was wondering if she ever moved at all. I kind of laughed at that because when she's not working, she never stops moving.
At one point I was demonstrating how I use my iPhone and Braille display for texting and the like. I had the display on my lap, and a teacher held my iPhone. I read the information on my display with my right hand while the left hand sat atop the interpreter's right hand so I could answer people's questions. Yes, it is possible to receive tactile ASL and read braille simultaneously. It kind of breaks my brain though. The ride to the school was one hour each way, so it was a very busy day, and very tiring.
Baylee is getting spayed tomorrow. I am nervous. Bristol is also going in for labs, and this also makes me nervous.
Also I think I'm losing more hearing. I know, who'd have thunk I'd have any more to lose at this point but there you go. I'm going to have to make an appointment with my audiologist soon to see if she can turn up my hearing aid again. Honestly I am putting this off because hearing aid adjustments are one of the auditory things that triggers an increase in vertigo symptoms. I really hate those. I don't care about being deaf but I hate being dizzy and sick. I didn't really even realize how much I've been struggling lately until I used an interpreter today and didn't have to struggle at all.
I always have to struggle to hear, it's just a fact. That makes it hard to notice an increase in the need to work when one is already working hard. But today really brought it home to me how stressful listening has become.
bla, bla, bla!
My brain is so fried right now I'm not making sense. gonna plug in all of my gizmos and go to sleep. We leave for the vets at 8:45 tomorrow with Baylee and Brissy. Good juju/happy thoughts/prayers to the deity/s of your choice are appreciated.
Then the presentation started. As did the questions. One young gentleman asked me if I was married. A young lady asked me why I needed a dog if I had an interpreter. I think I'll pass on the guide human, thanks. One young man called Laveau a "statue" because she was holding so still. He was wondering if she ever moved at all. I kind of laughed at that because when she's not working, she never stops moving.
At one point I was demonstrating how I use my iPhone and Braille display for texting and the like. I had the display on my lap, and a teacher held my iPhone. I read the information on my display with my right hand while the left hand sat atop the interpreter's right hand so I could answer people's questions. Yes, it is possible to receive tactile ASL and read braille simultaneously. It kind of breaks my brain though. The ride to the school was one hour each way, so it was a very busy day, and very tiring.
Baylee is getting spayed tomorrow. I am nervous. Bristol is also going in for labs, and this also makes me nervous.
Also I think I'm losing more hearing. I know, who'd have thunk I'd have any more to lose at this point but there you go. I'm going to have to make an appointment with my audiologist soon to see if she can turn up my hearing aid again. Honestly I am putting this off because hearing aid adjustments are one of the auditory things that triggers an increase in vertigo symptoms. I really hate those. I don't care about being deaf but I hate being dizzy and sick. I didn't really even realize how much I've been struggling lately until I used an interpreter today and didn't have to struggle at all.
I always have to struggle to hear, it's just a fact. That makes it hard to notice an increase in the need to work when one is already working hard. But today really brought it home to me how stressful listening has become.
bla, bla, bla!
My brain is so fried right now I'm not making sense. gonna plug in all of my gizmos and go to sleep. We leave for the vets at 8:45 tomorrow with Baylee and Brissy. Good juju/happy thoughts/prayers to the deity/s of your choice are appreciated.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
A Hero's Quest
Like the fearless explorers from years gone by, tomorrow I shall embark upon a great and noble quest; traveling to hostile and untamed lands in pursuit of a dream.
In layman's terms, this means that I'm going to the Apple Store, located in the m*ll to upgrade my iPhone. However, my initial description isn't far from the mark because doing this by myself (OK, with Laveau) will be epic, I can see it now.
I will have the following:
• Macbook so Apple Store employee can make sure the backup/restore from iTunes goes smoothly.
• USB braille display so I can read Macbook. My Macbook is still running Leopard which doesn't support bluetooth displays. I really need to fix this; it just hasn't happened yet.
• Easybraille braille display, which is connected to iPhone
• Braille Note with QWERTY keyboard and braille display so I can communicate with Apple Store staff.
• Old iPhone
This could get... well kind of tricky. I know I can read two displays at once; I do it all the time when working with both phone and Macbook. But add the 3rd one, the one for communication and it's going to be crazy; and yet again I will long to be transformed into an octopus so I can read more than two things at once. Also that ink thing would be cool, too. Also if I get lost in the mall, I'll need the Braille Note for communication so I can get directions. If I'm not out by Christmas; someone send a search party!
I'm very excited to get this new update to my much-beloved iPhone. Now hopefully Voiceover and my braille display will run much more smoothly than on my 3gs. Also Siri! I have about five million questions to ask her. like "What is the sound of one hand clapping?"
In layman's terms, this means that I'm going to the Apple Store, located in the m*ll to upgrade my iPhone. However, my initial description isn't far from the mark because doing this by myself (OK, with Laveau) will be epic, I can see it now.
I will have the following:
• Macbook so Apple Store employee can make sure the backup/restore from iTunes goes smoothly.
• USB braille display so I can read Macbook. My Macbook is still running Leopard which doesn't support bluetooth displays. I really need to fix this; it just hasn't happened yet.
• Easybraille braille display, which is connected to iPhone
• Braille Note with QWERTY keyboard and braille display so I can communicate with Apple Store staff.
• Old iPhone
This could get... well kind of tricky. I know I can read two displays at once; I do it all the time when working with both phone and Macbook. But add the 3rd one, the one for communication and it's going to be crazy; and yet again I will long to be transformed into an octopus so I can read more than two things at once. Also that ink thing would be cool, too. Also if I get lost in the mall, I'll need the Braille Note for communication so I can get directions. If I'm not out by Christmas; someone send a search party!
I'm very excited to get this new update to my much-beloved iPhone. Now hopefully Voiceover and my braille display will run much more smoothly than on my 3gs. Also Siri! I have about five million questions to ask her. like "What is the sound of one hand clapping?"
Sunday, December 18, 2011
take my hand, or maybe not!
Friday was my birthday, and since I've been under a bit of stress lately, I decided to party it up and have some fun. We started out at a rotisserie place called Zea. I had some pesto-crusted trout and two Mojitos, which are my new favorite drink. After that, some friends and I went to a party at a lawyer's house. I don't know this person but my friend goes to law school and was invited.
So we get there, and I have some rum and coke. I was chatting with a lady I know who works at the Advocacy Center, and then turned around to chat with my friend. I put my hand atop hers and tapped it, which means that I wanted her attention. She just laid her hand there and didn't give me any response, so I thought she must be talking to a hearing person. So I just laid my hand atop hers and sat there and waited. ... and waited, and waited, and waited. Then I tapped her hand again this time she wiggled it back and forth, in that universal gesture hearing people do when they want to talk to me but don't know how. I didn't know what she was doing. Suddenly, my friend tapped me on the shoulder and said that she had quick left and gotten another drink but didn't tell me because I was talking to someone else. So Another person had taken my friend's place-- one that didn't know us. Lol! I had been touching a stranger. Her hands were the same type and shape as my friends, and I didn't notice! Talk about embarrassing! Gotta love those Deafblind moments!
So we get there, and I have some rum and coke. I was chatting with a lady I know who works at the Advocacy Center, and then turned around to chat with my friend. I put my hand atop hers and tapped it, which means that I wanted her attention. She just laid her hand there and didn't give me any response, so I thought she must be talking to a hearing person. So I just laid my hand atop hers and sat there and waited. ... and waited, and waited, and waited. Then I tapped her hand again this time she wiggled it back and forth, in that universal gesture hearing people do when they want to talk to me but don't know how. I didn't know what she was doing. Suddenly, my friend tapped me on the shoulder and said that she had quick left and gotten another drink but didn't tell me because I was talking to someone else. So Another person had taken my friend's place-- one that didn't know us. Lol! I had been touching a stranger. Her hands were the same type and shape as my friends, and I didn't notice! Talk about embarrassing! Gotta love those Deafblind moments!
Friday, December 9, 2011
Tomboy Goes To Beauty School
So my friend texts me at work this morning and tells me that her friend, who works at a well known Beauty school here in New Orleans has invited us for facials and all of that stuff. I was kind of nonplused about this because I am a huge tomboy. For me, a clean pair of jeans and a shirt without Turmeric stains on it is good enough for anything I'm likely to encounter in my life. I do have long hair but I either wear it long or pull it back. I don't own any of that girl paint, or anything, and I've never had a facial in my life. Naturally I thought I should have the experience so I could know what all of the fuss was about.
We arrived and I had my nails done. I picked out dark purple polish and Kayla got right to work on my nails. Holding still for that was so, so hard. My hands are the world to me, and I know it probably seems obvious that it's this way for a deafblind person, I never really realized how disconnected with the world I become when I can not use my hands at will. I can't text or read, or talk, or listen, or reach down to pet my dog. It was very strange. I guess it helped me be mindful in the moment of having them done because I couldn't do anything else but relax and kind of space off into my own world.
Next was the facial. Only it was more like neck/shoulders/face. Complete with the wearing of these robe things which was awkward, and kind of cold. I laid in a bed and a lady did things to my face. And if I thought I was disconnected from the world when my nails were being done, it was nothing compared to how I felt up in a high bed, without even my feet touching. It was so bizarre.
First, the lady doing my face asked me a bunch of questions. It is during times like these when I wished to please have the multiple choice version of the test life throws you
It went something like this.
Face lady: "How does your skin feel today?"
Me: "well, I mean... it feels like skin, and I can't really say that my skin feels different from day-to-day; it's just... skin, and stuff."
F L: "Well is it dry? oily? a combination of both?"
Me: "uhh? I mean... It is just how it is. I don't have any idea."
F L: "What products do you use to clean your face?"
Me: *thinks to self that dog spit is not the answer they're looking for. *
"Well, water? soap?... yeah, soap and water 'bout covers it."
So after the questioning was over, the greasing and massage and stuff began.
I had this stuff sprayed on my face, and then removed. Rinse, repeat. At one point she wanted to do the same thing to my feet, but I put my foot down. Ok, ok, that was a bad line but I really did. No feet facialing for me, thankyouvery much. I did get a hand and arm massage.
She put this cream on me with a sort of brush thing. I told her that I felt like a giant cake someone was frosting. Then she and another lady put a lamp over my face and studied it which made me feel like a science experiment, and Inwardly apologized to all of the bacterium I ever put under a hot light.
Laveau watched everything and couldn't wait for me to get out of the bed. Eventually I was done and my face smelled like a veritable botanical cornucopia with mint, lavander, citrus, rose water, and at least five other herbs were used on my face.
And it's still the same as it always was. It was an interesting experience to have, though, that was for sure!
I think I'm probably going to trot into the great blue beyond singing the song about being a "beauty school drop-out."
We arrived and I had my nails done. I picked out dark purple polish and Kayla got right to work on my nails. Holding still for that was so, so hard. My hands are the world to me, and I know it probably seems obvious that it's this way for a deafblind person, I never really realized how disconnected with the world I become when I can not use my hands at will. I can't text or read, or talk, or listen, or reach down to pet my dog. It was very strange. I guess it helped me be mindful in the moment of having them done because I couldn't do anything else but relax and kind of space off into my own world.
Next was the facial. Only it was more like neck/shoulders/face. Complete with the wearing of these robe things which was awkward, and kind of cold. I laid in a bed and a lady did things to my face. And if I thought I was disconnected from the world when my nails were being done, it was nothing compared to how I felt up in a high bed, without even my feet touching. It was so bizarre.
First, the lady doing my face asked me a bunch of questions. It is during times like these when I wished to please have the multiple choice version of the test life throws you
It went something like this.
Face lady: "How does your skin feel today?"
Me: "well, I mean... it feels like skin, and I can't really say that my skin feels different from day-to-day; it's just... skin, and stuff."
F L: "Well is it dry? oily? a combination of both?"
Me: "uhh? I mean... It is just how it is. I don't have any idea."
F L: "What products do you use to clean your face?"
Me: *thinks to self that dog spit is not the answer they're looking for. *
"Well, water? soap?... yeah, soap and water 'bout covers it."
So after the questioning was over, the greasing and massage and stuff began.
I had this stuff sprayed on my face, and then removed. Rinse, repeat. At one point she wanted to do the same thing to my feet, but I put my foot down. Ok, ok, that was a bad line but I really did. No feet facialing for me, thankyouvery much. I did get a hand and arm massage.
She put this cream on me with a sort of brush thing. I told her that I felt like a giant cake someone was frosting. Then she and another lady put a lamp over my face and studied it which made me feel like a science experiment, and Inwardly apologized to all of the bacterium I ever put under a hot light.
Laveau watched everything and couldn't wait for me to get out of the bed. Eventually I was done and my face smelled like a veritable botanical cornucopia with mint, lavander, citrus, rose water, and at least five other herbs were used on my face.
And it's still the same as it always was. It was an interesting experience to have, though, that was for sure!
I think I'm probably going to trot into the great blue beyond singing the song about being a "beauty school drop-out."
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