Isaac's tale

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.

The Law-firm of Anderson Cooper

Sometimes, as a deafblind person, I feel pretty out of touch with popular culture and the like. I try to stay up to date with news-- local, national and world-wide, but I tend to miss quite a bit. This is mostly because there are only so many hours in the day, and because, lets face it, I don't really care about television or movie stars for the simple reason that I can't see or hear their work. This can sometimes land me in situations where I am obviously out of my depth. Something like this happened today.

Up until about two hours ago, I thought
<"Anderson Cooper">
was the name of the law firm which was so involved with the <"Enron Scandal">
....
....
And then I found out I was wrong!
I know all about
<"Corporate Personhood">
But...
This would be taking it a little far, no?
So the joke's on me! Good thing I learned to laugh at myself a long time ago.

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!

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.

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!

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!