I wanted to mention that by popular demand I signed up for this service called Audio Boo. It's like... audio blogging! I know, strange thing to do if one is deaf, but no more strange than being blind and having a FlickR page! There are three entries up right now-- all dog related. To listen, go
<"here">
I also wanted to remind my readers that Bayou Baylee, the youngest, and by far the sassiest, member of the Pawpower pack has her own blog. If you want to check it out she is
<"Over Here">
An essay from my blog has also been featured over at
<"The Vision Through Words Blog">
Go and enjoy all of the informative and wonderful articles on the blog, if you have a moment.
On a totally random note, I got a wand blender from Amazon. It is this long skinny stick with a blade at the end and you can use it to make all kinds of things like pie fillings, or smoothies or whatever. I have been making tea smoothies! I take a 12 ounce container, fill it half way with iced tea and half way with fruit, and give it a spin. I use Ceylon tea brewed with herbs from my little plant garden. I also add the juice of a lemon or lime.
It is very yummy and healthy. I don't add any extra sugar, although Mister Pawpower has been known to add some. I'm searching for another excuse to use my new toy, so any recipe ideas will be much appreciated.
As you know from reading the paragraph above, you see that my plants are still alive and kicking. Well they have not started to kick as of yet and truthfully I hope they don't! But they have grown and spread and I have used the mints and the lemon balm in teas. I am also thinking of adding to my collection-- my next purchases will be a dill weed, some cilantro, and oregano. See, you can teach an old dog new tricks after all!
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!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
To Read
When I was in first grade, my class took a field trip to the Public Library. I remember that library smell-- dust, and paper, mixed with the aroma of focused silence. We trooped around, looking at the brightly colored books. I don't remember anything of what the teacher or the librarian said, but I do remember how I felt. After the talk, explaining the library and probably the Dewey Decimal System (something I still do not understand to this day), all of my classmates broke up into small groups to explore. I sat, on a hard wooden chair and waited to go home. It's the only time in my life I've ever wished to be sighted.
I could read using a closed-circuit television (CCTV) which magnified the text of a book onto a screen. While I managed to get my school work done using this device, it left little time, nor inclination, to read for pleasure, so I didn't. But I always wanted to read, just like the other kids in my class, I wanted to look at the different books, pick out a few, and take them home.
The reading opportunities for people with print-related disabilities have expanded a great deal in the last twenty years. We have
<"The Library for the Blind and Physically Handicapped">
and
<"Book Share">
As well as other options.
We can get books on tape or CD, in Daisy format, either audio or print, in specially formatted files for braille displays, and in MP3 format to put on an iPod or one of the small special-made reading devices for hearing blind people. We could even buy a regular print book, and scan it with a flat-bed scanner if we had one, or had the time to do that.
It's only been very recently that we have had truly instant access to books equal with our sighted peers.
A few months ago, I started a series of fiction books. I read about ten in this series before I got to a stopping point. The next book in the series was not available. I searched, I asked friends if they knew where I could get this particular book. I have more than enough books to stop reading this series and wait for the book, and read something else in the meantime. But I wanted this particular book and I wanted it right then! In the old days I wouldn't have had a choice. I'd just have had to wait until someone scanned a copy or until the Library for the Blind got a braille copy. I would have been waiting a while because this book was of a subject matter not of mainstream interest.
Thank goodness for technology! Since nobody had this book, I went to the store, got the book, and read it. It was the first time in my whole life, I've ever been able to do that. The store was the iBookstore run by Apple, and the book was some kind of text file. I used my iPhone and braille display to read it. Because of Apple's commitment across the board to people with disabilities, I was able to do something I've wanted to do since I was six years old.
The book won't find itself on to my annual list of "Top Fifteen Best Reads" for the year. But it will always stand out in my mind as the first book I've ever bought to read just like anybody else. Now that I've had that experience, there is no stopping me!
Happy reading, y'all!
I could read using a closed-circuit television (CCTV) which magnified the text of a book onto a screen. While I managed to get my school work done using this device, it left little time, nor inclination, to read for pleasure, so I didn't. But I always wanted to read, just like the other kids in my class, I wanted to look at the different books, pick out a few, and take them home.
The reading opportunities for people with print-related disabilities have expanded a great deal in the last twenty years. We have
<"The Library for the Blind and Physically Handicapped">
and
<"Book Share">
As well as other options.
We can get books on tape or CD, in Daisy format, either audio or print, in specially formatted files for braille displays, and in MP3 format to put on an iPod or one of the small special-made reading devices for hearing blind people. We could even buy a regular print book, and scan it with a flat-bed scanner if we had one, or had the time to do that.
It's only been very recently that we have had truly instant access to books equal with our sighted peers.
A few months ago, I started a series of fiction books. I read about ten in this series before I got to a stopping point. The next book in the series was not available. I searched, I asked friends if they knew where I could get this particular book. I have more than enough books to stop reading this series and wait for the book, and read something else in the meantime. But I wanted this particular book and I wanted it right then! In the old days I wouldn't have had a choice. I'd just have had to wait until someone scanned a copy or until the Library for the Blind got a braille copy. I would have been waiting a while because this book was of a subject matter not of mainstream interest.
Thank goodness for technology! Since nobody had this book, I went to the store, got the book, and read it. It was the first time in my whole life, I've ever been able to do that. The store was the iBookstore run by Apple, and the book was some kind of text file. I used my iPhone and braille display to read it. Because of Apple's commitment across the board to people with disabilities, I was able to do something I've wanted to do since I was six years old.
The book won't find itself on to my annual list of "Top Fifteen Best Reads" for the year. But it will always stand out in my mind as the first book I've ever bought to read just like anybody else. Now that I've had that experience, there is no stopping me!
Happy reading, y'all!
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!
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Staying put!
Wow, two entries from me in one day?!
It turns out that I can fix the interface so it works with my screen reader once again. I'll outline the steps for any of my readers with this problem!
1. On the main blogger screen, go to blogger options. Note that it is a button, not a link. Press that, and the fifth item will be the link that changes you back to the old Blogger layout.
I use Voiceover on my Mac, so I tabbed to the Blogger Options button, and then was placed in a list. I interacted with the list and used VO down arrow to get to the option I wanted. Then with quicknav on, I hit shift space to activate my mouse. And it worked! Which is good news for me since I love this blog!
There may be a third post tonight detailing my recent adventures.
I have missed y'all!
It turns out that I can fix the interface so it works with my screen reader once again. I'll outline the steps for any of my readers with this problem!
1. On the main blogger screen, go to blogger options. Note that it is a button, not a link. Press that, and the fifth item will be the link that changes you back to the old Blogger layout.
I use Voiceover on my Mac, so I tabbed to the Blogger Options button, and then was placed in a list. I interacted with the list and used VO down arrow to get to the option I wanted. Then with quicknav on, I hit shift space to activate my mouse. And it worked! Which is good news for me since I love this blog!
There may be a third post tonight detailing my recent adventures.
I have missed y'all!
Moving House
Recently, Blogger has made changes to its interface which are not compatible with my Screenreader. I have not taken action because I hoped that Blogger would fix these problems and I could go back to posting regularly. However, Blogger has not addressed these issues and in order to keep blogging, I'll need to move my blog to a better service. I am researching my options, and when The Doghouse moves, I will post the new address here. Stay tuned for more updates!
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.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Ready, Set, Download!
It's no secret-- I love my iPhone. I use it every day-- for a multitude of things. Everything from the GPS function-- to identifying money, and looking at the sale paper for my favorite stores. It is not a stretch to say that if my phone were to break, that I'd be in big trouble. To that end-- while it's exciting when Apple comes out with a new update, it's also scary as heck. It's almost like waging war.
I first have to back up my phone's content, and then it's time. I close all open apps, take a deep breath, and start the update.
The next few minutes are full of nerve-racking tension. I watch the numbers get bigger as the new software downloads. I read people's tweets who are also updating their phone.
"I think I killed it!"
or
"It's sticking at 97%."
These are just a few of the things people say. I respond with my own worry. We sit, and watch, and bite our nails. It is like you need a mix of solid nerve and some prayer to get you through.
And then... I accidentally moved my phone and it got unplugged from the AC outlet. Oh boy-- I know people to which this same thing has happened and they messed up the phone and it became necessary for them to do.... the dreaded R! That's R for Reset. Which takes forever and after you have reset your phone, installed the latest OS, re-downloaded all of your Apps, and prayed that they end up in their correct folders, and then you find out that no, there are no apps in folders any more-- leaving you with six pages of apps and an organizational nightmare.
This process requires a stiff drink after it's complete.
And I do all of this, the phone is thankfully fine. The update is finished, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
...
Only to have to go through this entire process on another phone!
As much as I love IOS upgrades, I'm glad they only come around a few times a year.
I think I'm off for that much-promised bourbon after all.
I first have to back up my phone's content, and then it's time. I close all open apps, take a deep breath, and start the update.
The next few minutes are full of nerve-racking tension. I watch the numbers get bigger as the new software downloads. I read people's tweets who are also updating their phone.
"I think I killed it!"
or
"It's sticking at 97%."
These are just a few of the things people say. I respond with my own worry. We sit, and watch, and bite our nails. It is like you need a mix of solid nerve and some prayer to get you through.
And then... I accidentally moved my phone and it got unplugged from the AC outlet. Oh boy-- I know people to which this same thing has happened and they messed up the phone and it became necessary for them to do.... the dreaded R! That's R for Reset. Which takes forever and after you have reset your phone, installed the latest OS, re-downloaded all of your Apps, and prayed that they end up in their correct folders, and then you find out that no, there are no apps in folders any more-- leaving you with six pages of apps and an organizational nightmare.
This process requires a stiff drink after it's complete.
And I do all of this, the phone is thankfully fine. The update is finished, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
...
Only to have to go through this entire process on another phone!
As much as I love IOS upgrades, I'm glad they only come around a few times a year.
I think I'm off for that much-promised bourbon after all.
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 19, 2012
Just Say No!
Today Mister Pawpower and I walked to a near by coffee shop for the usual bagels and hangman. After I had ordered my tea, I asked the employee behind the counter if there was space to sit on the bottom floor. The area is small, and I didn't want to go plowing in there with dogs and drinks and whatnot if I was just going to turn around and head back out due to lack of space. The store employee comes around from behind the counter and I told him that he didn't need to do that, just tell me if there were people back there; my dog can find a seat.
Instead of listening to me, this individual grabbed the sleeve of my coat and like a master with a dog on a leash, he started toward the seating area, towing me behind him, and with my dog confusedly trying to figure out what, exactly was going on. I stopped, removed my arm from his grip, and told him that either my dog would follow him, or that he could just answer my question of seating room, and I'd take care of finding the seat myself.
Apparently some people who can hear are deafer than I am, because once again! He grabbed me by the sleeve, starting out toward the seating area. I stopped, removed the sleeve from his hand, and said:
"Sir? Just for what it's worth, it is never appropriate, productive, safe, nor at all in good taste to grab a person without their consent and haul them around by either a piece of clothing or a body part. I appreciate that you are trying to help, but I have tried to get your attention several times and you continue to ignore me. Do not touch me. If you want to lead me somewhere, allow me to tell you how to accomplish this, and then follow my instructions when I give them."
Yes, I am sure many people are cringing right now because I was terribly rude, and he was "only trying to help." I respect that people want to help, but help should never be forced, and it should never put either party in danger.
If you were to look at me, you would never know that I have a hidden disability. My inner ear disease causes problems with balance and vertigo; thereby making walking or standing a huge chore, not just something I do without thinking. If someone wants to guide me, there are very specific ways in which they can do that. Safer, more comfortable ways. Grabbing my arm also means that my dog can't do her jobs properly.
I don't understand why people seem to think that the "normal laws" of physical contact don't apply to people with disabilities. If I walked up to a "normal" person, who asked me for directions, and I then grabbed that person by the arm or by their shirt and started yanking them in the general direction of their destination without even a word of by your leave or instruction, I would probably land in handcuffs at the most, or at the least get punched on the nose. However if this happened to a person with a disability, then it becomes generally accepted-- even smiled upon-- because the person doing the dragging is so kind and wonderful to help!
Many of my newly blind clients feel guilty or "wrong" about not accepting help, or if they do accept help, then they don't have the "right" to ask the person to do it in a way that isn't dangerous or frightening. It is still your body, even though you have a disability. If you don't like what someone is doing with your body, tell them to stop. If someone continues to help in ways which are unwanted, then you have the right to make it known that you don't like it. People with disabilities are not baggage, tugged and towed from here to there.
People often ask me the following question:
"What is the best way to help a person with a disability?"
Here is my answer.
First, ask if the person needs help. If they say no, don't take it personally, but just accept that the person has it covered and their way of doing something may look more difficult or differently than the way you do the same task, but that they are doing it and would like to do it themselves. If you ask and the person does want help, then either wait for the person to tell you how, exactly, you can help them, or ask the question yourself.
Do not grab or try to "move" someone as if they were a piece of furniture. If you need someone to move, ask, and then use words like "left" and "right" to indicate the direction. Do not ever move someone's cane/walker/wheelchair/crutches without asking. If you need the object moved, ask the person what they would like to do-- e.g. move it themselves, or get help. Just communicate, and listen!
And yes, before someone says it, the guy I yelled at today will probably not be in a hurry to help another person with a disability. But I think that might not be a huge loss!
Instead of listening to me, this individual grabbed the sleeve of my coat and like a master with a dog on a leash, he started toward the seating area, towing me behind him, and with my dog confusedly trying to figure out what, exactly was going on. I stopped, removed my arm from his grip, and told him that either my dog would follow him, or that he could just answer my question of seating room, and I'd take care of finding the seat myself.
Apparently some people who can hear are deafer than I am, because once again! He grabbed me by the sleeve, starting out toward the seating area. I stopped, removed the sleeve from his hand, and said:
"Sir? Just for what it's worth, it is never appropriate, productive, safe, nor at all in good taste to grab a person without their consent and haul them around by either a piece of clothing or a body part. I appreciate that you are trying to help, but I have tried to get your attention several times and you continue to ignore me. Do not touch me. If you want to lead me somewhere, allow me to tell you how to accomplish this, and then follow my instructions when I give them."
Yes, I am sure many people are cringing right now because I was terribly rude, and he was "only trying to help." I respect that people want to help, but help should never be forced, and it should never put either party in danger.
If you were to look at me, you would never know that I have a hidden disability. My inner ear disease causes problems with balance and vertigo; thereby making walking or standing a huge chore, not just something I do without thinking. If someone wants to guide me, there are very specific ways in which they can do that. Safer, more comfortable ways. Grabbing my arm also means that my dog can't do her jobs properly.
I don't understand why people seem to think that the "normal laws" of physical contact don't apply to people with disabilities. If I walked up to a "normal" person, who asked me for directions, and I then grabbed that person by the arm or by their shirt and started yanking them in the general direction of their destination without even a word of by your leave or instruction, I would probably land in handcuffs at the most, or at the least get punched on the nose. However if this happened to a person with a disability, then it becomes generally accepted-- even smiled upon-- because the person doing the dragging is so kind and wonderful to help!
Many of my newly blind clients feel guilty or "wrong" about not accepting help, or if they do accept help, then they don't have the "right" to ask the person to do it in a way that isn't dangerous or frightening. It is still your body, even though you have a disability. If you don't like what someone is doing with your body, tell them to stop. If someone continues to help in ways which are unwanted, then you have the right to make it known that you don't like it. People with disabilities are not baggage, tugged and towed from here to there.
People often ask me the following question:
"What is the best way to help a person with a disability?"
Here is my answer.
First, ask if the person needs help. If they say no, don't take it personally, but just accept that the person has it covered and their way of doing something may look more difficult or differently than the way you do the same task, but that they are doing it and would like to do it themselves. If you ask and the person does want help, then either wait for the person to tell you how, exactly, you can help them, or ask the question yourself.
Do not grab or try to "move" someone as if they were a piece of furniture. If you need someone to move, ask, and then use words like "left" and "right" to indicate the direction. Do not ever move someone's cane/walker/wheelchair/crutches without asking. If you need the object moved, ask the person what they would like to do-- e.g. move it themselves, or get help. Just communicate, and listen!
And yes, before someone says it, the guy I yelled at today will probably not be in a hurry to help another person with a disability. But I think that might not be a huge loss!
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!
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
This and That
Everyone in my office seems to have the winter crud, so it's no surprise that I got it. It has hung on for over a week and I am wishing it would just go away. In other news, I'm changing up the equipment I use for Laveau. She managed to break her guide handle for the harness, so Mister Pawpower is spending the day today making me a new one since I have to attend a board meeting in Baton Rouge tomorrow and need my harness. He is also going to add a light mobility handle on her back strap. As my inner ear disease progresses, I am finding myself in need of more and more Mobility tasks from Laveau. Due to my lack of proprioception, I have a hard time telling where I am in space. Having a handle to hold when I'm standing for long periods helps me. I have also taught her to counter balance for those times when I think I'm standing straight but am really canted far to one side or another about to do a face plant. We will put that handle on my harness sometime this weekend. I am super excited.
Tomorrow I'll be gone for twelve hours as I am traveling to Baton Rouge. This takes two bus rides and a cab ride each way, and then a three-hour meeting which means three hours of solid tactile interpreting. My arms hurt just thinking about it.
Baylee is filling out and continues to have boundless energy. We have a nice man walking her several times a week. Well actually it's more like jogging; but it really helps make her energy levels more manageable.
Bristol and Mill'E are doing well. Today when we were about to leave, Mill'E-Max grabbed one of the straps on Baylee's "in training" backpack and took off with Baylee running behind her. That dog just wants to be in charge, I guess.
I hope everyone in blogland has been well!
Tomorrow I'll be gone for twelve hours as I am traveling to Baton Rouge. This takes two bus rides and a cab ride each way, and then a three-hour meeting which means three hours of solid tactile interpreting. My arms hurt just thinking about it.
Baylee is filling out and continues to have boundless energy. We have a nice man walking her several times a week. Well actually it's more like jogging; but it really helps make her energy levels more manageable.
Bristol and Mill'E are doing well. Today when we were about to leave, Mill'E-Max grabbed one of the straps on Baylee's "in training" backpack and took off with Baylee running behind her. That dog just wants to be in charge, I guess.
I hope everyone in blogland has been well!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
State of the Pack
Mother Nature has a major case of confusion. It has been in the high 70's this whole week. I'm actually running the air-conditioning because it is so hot and muggy outside. Don't get me wrong; I'd much rather have high 70's than 40's! Hey, I'm a weather wimp! That's why I don't live in the frozen north with the rest of my family! While I'm enjoying this weather, it makes it hard to remember that we're only in January. It doesn't feel like Carnival time at all!
This good weather has given me lots of opportunity to get out with the dogs though which is nice. Bristol has seen both the regular vet, as well as the eye specialist and the old lady appears to be pretty darned fit for her age. This makes us all very happy as we would all be quite lost without our Queen Bristol and we hope she will be around for many years yet.
I am teaching myself to make incense. This required a trip to the herb store where my SSP got an education on everything from Rooibos to Tansy. It was fun, and I some how ended up buying a beautiful marble mortar and pestle (because I needed a bigger one-- promise)! So I am still in the mixing of the herbs stage. I couldn't find Makko powder at the shop so am going with charcoal and honey for combustion/binding. I am also trying Rooibos (red tea) in some of my blends and am liking it very much.
Baylee is growing and is starting to wear a small harness. She is having some body sensitivity issues and I'm getting her used to the feel of a handle on her back, being picked up and set down, as well as starting some positioning work. My friend took a bunch of pictures and tomorrow's chore involves uploading them to Flickr. I'll post the link when I have it. If I were more techy-ish, I could put them in the post itself but I still don't understand how to do that. Someone should really write a book-- blogger for idiots.
And speaking of books, I do believe that it is time to give the old lady her 2nd round of eye drops for the day and crawl into bed with my book. It is the first Harry Potter book-- obeying the maxim, that "When the going gets tough-- the tough read HP!"
This good weather has given me lots of opportunity to get out with the dogs though which is nice. Bristol has seen both the regular vet, as well as the eye specialist and the old lady appears to be pretty darned fit for her age. This makes us all very happy as we would all be quite lost without our Queen Bristol and we hope she will be around for many years yet.
I am teaching myself to make incense. This required a trip to the herb store where my SSP got an education on everything from Rooibos to Tansy. It was fun, and I some how ended up buying a beautiful marble mortar and pestle (because I needed a bigger one-- promise)! So I am still in the mixing of the herbs stage. I couldn't find Makko powder at the shop so am going with charcoal and honey for combustion/binding. I am also trying Rooibos (red tea) in some of my blends and am liking it very much.
Baylee is growing and is starting to wear a small harness. She is having some body sensitivity issues and I'm getting her used to the feel of a handle on her back, being picked up and set down, as well as starting some positioning work. My friend took a bunch of pictures and tomorrow's chore involves uploading them to Flickr. I'll post the link when I have it. If I were more techy-ish, I could put them in the post itself but I still don't understand how to do that. Someone should really write a book-- blogger for idiots.
And speaking of books, I do believe that it is time to give the old lady her 2nd round of eye drops for the day and crawl into bed with my book. It is the first Harry Potter book-- obeying the maxim, that "When the going gets tough-- the tough read HP!"
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Obstacle Avoidance
Today I took Baylee for a walk. She has been doing some very light obstacle avoidance work, plus she will reliably stop for changes in elevation. She is in no way a trained guide dog, but we have been encouraging these behaviors since we got her, and in the last two weeks her focus and overall understanding of these behaviors has improved drastically.
Mister Pawpower needed to go to the post-office, and he "borrowed" Laveau since she is the master of navigating the lines in that building. While they were gone, I decided to take our striped one for a walk.
Everything was going just swimmingly. We had gone about 7 blocks in all, and were nearing the end of our walk when we encountered an obstacle..
No, it wasn't a trash can, or a parked car. This obstacle was a person... with a dog, on a leash. However, for some people, a leash just seems to be a pretty bit of fabric to clutch while their dog does whatever it pleases. This was the case with the woman we met.
I felt Baylee stop, and I reached down to find her sniffing the dog. I asked her to stop, and she did. I told her to continue walking, and she tried but failed as she was suddenly set upon by this dog who was thankfully not much bigger than she was. The dog thought it was great fun to jump up and pin Baylee to the ground, wagging its tail and licking her face. Poor Baylee just lay there-- still ignoring the other dog, and trying to get up but having no luck. I informed the woman that we needed to be on our way (which is a polite request to remove her dog from atop mine), however the woman was cooing and laughing and getting a real kick out of her dog's antics. Finally I told Baylee she could greet the other dog because I had no other choice.
Eventually I got the other dog off of her, got Baylee on her feet, and left on our way home. Thankfully the dog, although very poorly trained, was very friendly and its only intent was play. This could have ended up so much worse if the dog had been reactive. Baylee doesn't seem any the worse for wear, but I think my nerves are shot.
Mister Pawpower needed to go to the post-office, and he "borrowed" Laveau since she is the master of navigating the lines in that building. While they were gone, I decided to take our striped one for a walk.
Everything was going just swimmingly. We had gone about 7 blocks in all, and were nearing the end of our walk when we encountered an obstacle..
No, it wasn't a trash can, or a parked car. This obstacle was a person... with a dog, on a leash. However, for some people, a leash just seems to be a pretty bit of fabric to clutch while their dog does whatever it pleases. This was the case with the woman we met.
I felt Baylee stop, and I reached down to find her sniffing the dog. I asked her to stop, and she did. I told her to continue walking, and she tried but failed as she was suddenly set upon by this dog who was thankfully not much bigger than she was. The dog thought it was great fun to jump up and pin Baylee to the ground, wagging its tail and licking her face. Poor Baylee just lay there-- still ignoring the other dog, and trying to get up but having no luck. I informed the woman that we needed to be on our way (which is a polite request to remove her dog from atop mine), however the woman was cooing and laughing and getting a real kick out of her dog's antics. Finally I told Baylee she could greet the other dog because I had no other choice.
Eventually I got the other dog off of her, got Baylee on her feet, and left on our way home. Thankfully the dog, although very poorly trained, was very friendly and its only intent was play. This could have ended up so much worse if the dog had been reactive. Baylee doesn't seem any the worse for wear, but I think my nerves are shot.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Life is like mystery soup....
You never never know what you'll get. And yes, it's supposed to be chocolates, but I am making mystery soup today so soup it shall be.
I needed to clean out my fridge and veggie shelf, so today was soup-making-day. I also had some old stock I had frozen from a pork roast we had made a month or so back. I defrosted it (not an easy job when the kitchen is unheated and it's 35 degrees outside) and skimmed off the fat(ewww!) and tossed the stock in the crock pot with 5 chopped red potatoes, an onion, some leftover frozen corn and green beans, half a bottle of salsa that needed to be used, 4 or 5 cloves of garlic(just in case of vampire invasion) and a can of Skyline Chili base (I thought it was black beans, but got a surprise when I opened it so used that instead). I will make biscuits later or maybe some egg-rolls and that shall be our dinner, and if I'm lucky, lunches for me next week.
This morning we went for coffee. Our vet said that Baylee would tell us when she was ready to start going with us again, after being spayed on Wednesday. This morning she was for sure ready. Mister Pawpower and I dressed Laveau and Baylee and went for coffee and to the mini mart. Baylee was very glad to be out and not stuck at home. She has been a very good girl, not bothering her stitches. She doesn't even need the cone of shame (lamp shade collar) which is awesome.
Bristol's labs came back and they are all normal. She was examined by our vet who said that her hips are actually improving a bit which is amazing! Go team Bristol.
The weather has been so cold. Well ok, all y'all yankees are looking down your noses but it is! Also our homes don't have central heat so... brrr! My hands get so cold and I am very grateful for my new gloves with the fingertips missing so I can still read braille without freezing my hands off.
Tomorrow I am dragging my SSP to a local herb shop. I went to their website and they even have classes which sound interesting. I'm going to check out their prices and to see if they have Makko powder because I'd like to try my hand at making incense.
Yesterday I realized that this is a three-day weekend because of Martin Luther King Jr. day. I think I will celebrate by making another pot of the solstice soup I made last month. I may also make a pan of jalapeno corn bread, and perhaps some chocolate cupcakes.
I think that is all of my randomness for now.
Mill'E-Max is telling me that her water dish is empty. If I don't fill it soon she may exact vengeance. And don't let that golden retriever face fool you-- they are masters of revenge!!
Stay warm, y'all!
I needed to clean out my fridge and veggie shelf, so today was soup-making-day. I also had some old stock I had frozen from a pork roast we had made a month or so back. I defrosted it (not an easy job when the kitchen is unheated and it's 35 degrees outside) and skimmed off the fat(ewww!) and tossed the stock in the crock pot with 5 chopped red potatoes, an onion, some leftover frozen corn and green beans, half a bottle of salsa that needed to be used, 4 or 5 cloves of garlic(just in case of vampire invasion) and a can of Skyline Chili base (I thought it was black beans, but got a surprise when I opened it so used that instead). I will make biscuits later or maybe some egg-rolls and that shall be our dinner, and if I'm lucky, lunches for me next week.
This morning we went for coffee. Our vet said that Baylee would tell us when she was ready to start going with us again, after being spayed on Wednesday. This morning she was for sure ready. Mister Pawpower and I dressed Laveau and Baylee and went for coffee and to the mini mart. Baylee was very glad to be out and not stuck at home. She has been a very good girl, not bothering her stitches. She doesn't even need the cone of shame (lamp shade collar) which is awesome.
Bristol's labs came back and they are all normal. She was examined by our vet who said that her hips are actually improving a bit which is amazing! Go team Bristol.
The weather has been so cold. Well ok, all y'all yankees are looking down your noses but it is! Also our homes don't have central heat so... brrr! My hands get so cold and I am very grateful for my new gloves with the fingertips missing so I can still read braille without freezing my hands off.
Tomorrow I am dragging my SSP to a local herb shop. I went to their website and they even have classes which sound interesting. I'm going to check out their prices and to see if they have Makko powder because I'd like to try my hand at making incense.
Yesterday I realized that this is a three-day weekend because of Martin Luther King Jr. day. I think I will celebrate by making another pot of the solstice soup I made last month. I may also make a pan of jalapeno corn bread, and perhaps some chocolate cupcakes.
I think that is all of my randomness for now.
Mill'E-Max is telling me that her water dish is empty. If I don't fill it soon she may exact vengeance. And don't let that golden retriever face fool you-- they are masters of revenge!!
Stay warm, y'all!
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.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Obstacles of Grace
This post is for the sixth
<"Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is obstacles.
When an assistance dog organization trains their specially-bred dogs to become working partners, it's only the top half, or less who make it. So many obstacles stand in the way of a young puppy. Will it have the correct temperament? Will it be physically sound? Will it like the work? So many things to overcome.
If a specially-bred dog has such a small chance of making it, then how much less so, a mutt who found herself in one of America's dumping grounds for pets, left to be someone else's problem. Her black color became yet another obstacle; because nobody wants the black ones; they will always have a higher chance of being euthanized.
Her name was Jewel. She had a filthy coat and eyes that seemed to know too much. Her first family didn't want her, none of the people who walked by her cage at the shelter day in and day out wanted her, and her time was running out. I was volunteering at this shelter at the time, and was also looking for another dog to train, maybe as a guide dog, just for fun, to see if I could train the tasks, but mostly just to have as a friend for Bristol, my old working dog. but we didn't want Jewel, either. I knew what I wanted and that wasn't her.
But sometimes we don't get what we want, and through a string of small yet life-changing events, I found myself up to my neck in suds and black fur. Jewel became my dog on a long-ago Saturday morning, as I washed her encrusted hot spots, trimmed her matted fur, and otherwise tried to fix what had been broken. At some point during that endless-seeming afternoon, Jewel the unwanted and castoff farm dog had taken her first tentative steps to becoming Gracy the guide dog. But just like windshields have bugs-- roads have obstacles.
She came to live with me, and it soon became apparent that her socialization was minimal, at very best. We did it all-- steps, cars, out door strip malls. She loved being out in the world. I loved having her, and what was even better, she was helping my current working dog to change for the better.
Her only problem was me. I had been taught just how to "train a dog." There was the one way I knew, and I used my method of choice in a manner I thought was pretty even-handed, and "normal." If leash corrections made her shut down, well that wasn't my fault, was it? I couldn't let the dog "be the alpha," could I? She has to learn to be tough. When I finally saw the metaphorical light, the popping sound which signified the removal of my cranium from my rectum was so loud, it may have contributed to my deafness.
Eventually I became an operant trainer and we both got a lot happier. I wasn't perfect, but I was a lot more willing to try different things, and a lot less quick with physical correction. She blossomed. We finally had a working relationship.
Things sailed along pretty smoothly for a while, but I should have known it was the calm before the storm. The storm even had a name-- it was Katrina. She rolled into town on August 29th of 2005, and left failing levees, and almost total destruction behind her. Gracy learned to work in a city other than New Orleans. We came back home in March of 2006, to a city laden with obstacles. All of the hours of training, all of the tears and hard work, and second guessing the both of us paid off.
Walking down the street was like visiting a third-world country. Homes lay neglected, with debris scattered everywhere. There were FEMA trailers on the sidewalk, rusted cars on lawns, refrigerators with their seven-months old contents lay in the pedestrian walkway. Nails in the road, and potholes which you could literally use for swimming holes. She guided me around them all. She knew what to do and she did it.
I remember on one of my first trips back to the city , when all I could do was walk-- zombie like-- through the blocks and blocks of destruction. Walk passed numbers on doors which told of the body count inside. walk passed people coming home for the first time, who stood weeping in yards. I just walked, knowing that if I were to stop-- even for a moment-- that I would be completely unable to move forward, or to even move at all ever again. There was nothing else to do-- so she lead me through this new landscape of death and broken lives. Without a flinch, or a twitch of an eyelash she guided me around the obstacles until I was safely home again.
Now she is retired. She is a gray-muzzled lady of leisure. She spends her days keeping the gardens free of mice, and the yard clear of intruders. I have another dog in the harness. I would like to think that I'm a better trainer, though. I'd like to think that somewhere along this unexpected journey which I've taken-- guided by grace-- that I've changed and that my current and future dogs will have benefited from the obstacles Gracy and I have overcome together.
<"Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is obstacles.
When an assistance dog organization trains their specially-bred dogs to become working partners, it's only the top half, or less who make it. So many obstacles stand in the way of a young puppy. Will it have the correct temperament? Will it be physically sound? Will it like the work? So many things to overcome.
If a specially-bred dog has such a small chance of making it, then how much less so, a mutt who found herself in one of America's dumping grounds for pets, left to be someone else's problem. Her black color became yet another obstacle; because nobody wants the black ones; they will always have a higher chance of being euthanized.
Her name was Jewel. She had a filthy coat and eyes that seemed to know too much. Her first family didn't want her, none of the people who walked by her cage at the shelter day in and day out wanted her, and her time was running out. I was volunteering at this shelter at the time, and was also looking for another dog to train, maybe as a guide dog, just for fun, to see if I could train the tasks, but mostly just to have as a friend for Bristol, my old working dog. but we didn't want Jewel, either. I knew what I wanted and that wasn't her.
But sometimes we don't get what we want, and through a string of small yet life-changing events, I found myself up to my neck in suds and black fur. Jewel became my dog on a long-ago Saturday morning, as I washed her encrusted hot spots, trimmed her matted fur, and otherwise tried to fix what had been broken. At some point during that endless-seeming afternoon, Jewel the unwanted and castoff farm dog had taken her first tentative steps to becoming Gracy the guide dog. But just like windshields have bugs-- roads have obstacles.
She came to live with me, and it soon became apparent that her socialization was minimal, at very best. We did it all-- steps, cars, out door strip malls. She loved being out in the world. I loved having her, and what was even better, she was helping my current working dog to change for the better.
Her only problem was me. I had been taught just how to "train a dog." There was the one way I knew, and I used my method of choice in a manner I thought was pretty even-handed, and "normal." If leash corrections made her shut down, well that wasn't my fault, was it? I couldn't let the dog "be the alpha," could I? She has to learn to be tough. When I finally saw the metaphorical light, the popping sound which signified the removal of my cranium from my rectum was so loud, it may have contributed to my deafness.
Eventually I became an operant trainer and we both got a lot happier. I wasn't perfect, but I was a lot more willing to try different things, and a lot less quick with physical correction. She blossomed. We finally had a working relationship.
Things sailed along pretty smoothly for a while, but I should have known it was the calm before the storm. The storm even had a name-- it was Katrina. She rolled into town on August 29th of 2005, and left failing levees, and almost total destruction behind her. Gracy learned to work in a city other than New Orleans. We came back home in March of 2006, to a city laden with obstacles. All of the hours of training, all of the tears and hard work, and second guessing the both of us paid off.
Walking down the street was like visiting a third-world country. Homes lay neglected, with debris scattered everywhere. There were FEMA trailers on the sidewalk, rusted cars on lawns, refrigerators with their seven-months old contents lay in the pedestrian walkway. Nails in the road, and potholes which you could literally use for swimming holes. She guided me around them all. She knew what to do and she did it.
I remember on one of my first trips back to the city , when all I could do was walk-- zombie like-- through the blocks and blocks of destruction. Walk passed numbers on doors which told of the body count inside. walk passed people coming home for the first time, who stood weeping in yards. I just walked, knowing that if I were to stop-- even for a moment-- that I would be completely unable to move forward, or to even move at all ever again. There was nothing else to do-- so she lead me through this new landscape of death and broken lives. Without a flinch, or a twitch of an eyelash she guided me around the obstacles until I was safely home again.
Now she is retired. She is a gray-muzzled lady of leisure. She spends her days keeping the gardens free of mice, and the yard clear of intruders. I have another dog in the harness. I would like to think that I'm a better trainer, though. I'd like to think that somewhere along this unexpected journey which I've taken-- guided by grace-- that I've changed and that my current and future dogs will have benefited from the obstacles Gracy and I have overcome together.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Happy New Year!
I would love to wish everyone a wonderful, healthy, and safe new year. May it be full of many good things. The holidays were quiet for us here, which has been really nice. It seems that I spent 2011 dashing from crisis to crisis which was exceedingly exhausting. I was not at all sad to see 2011 go into the history books.
Last night Mister Pawpower and I sat out on our porch sipping drinks. I can sometimes see the fireworks but this year none were close enough. However I did manage to hear a few with my hearing aid in. My husband said the entire city sounded like a giant bowl of Rice Krispies with all of the fireworks.
The weather has been beautiful around here. Temps in the 70's and sunshine. Today we celebrated the new year with a barbecue. Mister Pawpower did t-bone steaks, brats, and smoked sausages on top, and a pan of roasted veggies in the bottom of the grill. We ate the steaks tonight, but the sausages and brats are sandwich material for the next few days. I made lemon raspberry cupcakes and lemon pudding icing to go on top. It turned out super well. I just made the recipe up as I shopped in the grocery store, so score one for me!
Baylee is getting spayed on Wednesday. She is 8 months old now, and for several reasons, we do not want to deal with her going into heat, and so after a lot of careful thinking, research, and conversing with our vet who is really a wonderful guy, we decided to spay her around this time. I am super nervous. I will probably always see her as this little wriggling striped bundle with tiny paws and a bitsy round puppy head. I think leaving her at the vets will be very hard for me. I know this needs to be done, and I've dealt with enough post-spay bitches in my time, but this time it's different, because I still think of her as the baby. Bristol is also going in for blood work because I want to make sure that her thyroid is behaving. She is showing a return of the clinical signs of hypothyroidism, and I'd like to have a look at her numbers. Of course I'm having a big inner battle with myself because I'm just sure she has horrible cancer of some variety, or other. I am trying not to stress out about it. I don't think I'm doing very well and I just want her to go in, get blood taken and for my vet to tell me that she is ok. Needing a thyroid med adjustment counts as OK because that isn't surprising seeing as how she is 14, and everything.
I started reading the new Stephen King book today. It is called 11/22/63 and it is amazing. That man can write! I think this will go on 2012's best reads list, for sure!
Tomorrow, I think we're taking Baylee out with us when we run errands. She won't be going anywhere for the first couple weeks after her spay, so it's good to get her out now.
I am currently making a huge batch of tea, aroma therapy sprays and tub muffins. I do believe that January 2, 2012 will be spent in the herb room, which is perfectly OK with me.
Happy New Year, y'all!
Last night Mister Pawpower and I sat out on our porch sipping drinks. I can sometimes see the fireworks but this year none were close enough. However I did manage to hear a few with my hearing aid in. My husband said the entire city sounded like a giant bowl of Rice Krispies with all of the fireworks.
The weather has been beautiful around here. Temps in the 70's and sunshine. Today we celebrated the new year with a barbecue. Mister Pawpower did t-bone steaks, brats, and smoked sausages on top, and a pan of roasted veggies in the bottom of the grill. We ate the steaks tonight, but the sausages and brats are sandwich material for the next few days. I made lemon raspberry cupcakes and lemon pudding icing to go on top. It turned out super well. I just made the recipe up as I shopped in the grocery store, so score one for me!
Baylee is getting spayed on Wednesday. She is 8 months old now, and for several reasons, we do not want to deal with her going into heat, and so after a lot of careful thinking, research, and conversing with our vet who is really a wonderful guy, we decided to spay her around this time. I am super nervous. I will probably always see her as this little wriggling striped bundle with tiny paws and a bitsy round puppy head. I think leaving her at the vets will be very hard for me. I know this needs to be done, and I've dealt with enough post-spay bitches in my time, but this time it's different, because I still think of her as the baby. Bristol is also going in for blood work because I want to make sure that her thyroid is behaving. She is showing a return of the clinical signs of hypothyroidism, and I'd like to have a look at her numbers. Of course I'm having a big inner battle with myself because I'm just sure she has horrible cancer of some variety, or other. I am trying not to stress out about it. I don't think I'm doing very well and I just want her to go in, get blood taken and for my vet to tell me that she is ok. Needing a thyroid med adjustment counts as OK because that isn't surprising seeing as how she is 14, and everything.
I started reading the new Stephen King book today. It is called 11/22/63 and it is amazing. That man can write! I think this will go on 2012's best reads list, for sure!
Tomorrow, I think we're taking Baylee out with us when we run errands. She won't be going anywhere for the first couple weeks after her spay, so it's good to get her out now.
I am currently making a huge batch of tea, aroma therapy sprays and tub muffins. I do believe that January 2, 2012 will be spent in the herb room, which is perfectly OK with me.
Happy New Year, y'all!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Booklist for 2011
I read a total of 164 books this year. Mostly fantasy and fluffy Stephanie Plum mysteries. I read a lot of books about Deafblind people/culture. I really got into the Song of Ice and Fire series even though I found "game of thrones" kind of intimidating and confusing; I'm glad I came back to it.
The Chris Rose was by far, the very best book I read all year long and the very hardest. It was like ripping off all of the old scabs and I literally cried through 95% of the book. I don't think I can or will ever read it again. However because it was such a powerful read for me, I wanted to mention it. I think others will find it interesting but hopefully not as soul-shredding to read.
I do have one silly Urban Fantasy book on my list; the Molly Harper werewolf books. They are really excellent. Once again, Christopher Moore has two books on the list, because I read two of his books and they always make the list because he is wonderful.
My friend Doug, who took his own life in March was the first introduce me to them and I can't read them any more without my heart breaking a little. But I guess that's how life works. So here is my top fifteen best books for 2011. Note that a * means that the books are part of a larger series but I have read all of the series mentioned in this list.
Top 15 books for 2011
1. One Dead in Attic After Katrina by Chris Rose
2. Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult
3. Of Such Small Differences by Joanne Greenberg
4. Walking Free: The Nellie Zimmerman Story by Rosezelle Boggs-Qualls and Darryl C. Greene
5. Coyote Blue by Christopher Moore
6. The Story of Beautiful Girl By Rachel Simon
7. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins *
8. The Confession by John Grisham
9. The Witches of Eileanan by Kate Forsyth *
10. Naamah's Blessing by Jacqueline Carey *
11. A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin *
12. Prime by Poppy Z. Brite *
13. Independent Living Without Sight and Hearing by Richard Kinney
14. How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf by Molly Harper *
15. Practical Demonkeeping by Christopher Moore
The Chris Rose was by far, the very best book I read all year long and the very hardest. It was like ripping off all of the old scabs and I literally cried through 95% of the book. I don't think I can or will ever read it again. However because it was such a powerful read for me, I wanted to mention it. I think others will find it interesting but hopefully not as soul-shredding to read.
I do have one silly Urban Fantasy book on my list; the Molly Harper werewolf books. They are really excellent. Once again, Christopher Moore has two books on the list, because I read two of his books and they always make the list because he is wonderful.
My friend Doug, who took his own life in March was the first introduce me to them and I can't read them any more without my heart breaking a little. But I guess that's how life works. So here is my top fifteen best books for 2011. Note that a * means that the books are part of a larger series but I have read all of the series mentioned in this list.
Top 15 books for 2011
1. One Dead in Attic After Katrina by Chris Rose
2. Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult
3. Of Such Small Differences by Joanne Greenberg
4. Walking Free: The Nellie Zimmerman Story by Rosezelle Boggs-Qualls and Darryl C. Greene
5. Coyote Blue by Christopher Moore
6. The Story of Beautiful Girl By Rachel Simon
7. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins *
8. The Confession by John Grisham
9. The Witches of Eileanan by Kate Forsyth *
10. Naamah's Blessing by Jacqueline Carey *
11. A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin *
12. Prime by Poppy Z. Brite *
13. Independent Living Without Sight and Hearing by Richard Kinney
14. How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf by Molly Harper *
15. Practical Demonkeeping by Christopher Moore
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!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Golden
Today Bristol turns 14 years old. Because this is also December 14th, it makes it her golden birthday. So I guess we could say that it's the Golden's Golden Birthday. She celebrated it by going to the park and chewing on a cow foot, and taking a nap on my shoes. She got a tug rope for her gift and I am assuming we'll break it in shortly. The old lady does love tug of war.
I don't really have anything to say about her that I haven't said before about a million times. Our relationship is so hard to quantify, and explain to people; especially people who don't have an assistance dog. Even though she's retired, she is still the center of everything I do. From my first half-awake fumble for her Thyroid medication in the morning, even before my feet hit the floor, until I do her eye drops and give her one last snuggle before falling asleep at night. She is always in the back of my mind, and even more now, that she is older.
When I first met her, I didn't want anything to do with her. My first guide dog had just died at age 3 from lymphoma. I wasn't ready to open my heart so fully to anyone. She didn't give me a choice about it. She was like a giant rock; waring down my hurt feelings and anger, and planting the seeds of great love in their place. She continued to be a rock, all through our working relationship, no matter what I threw at her. She handled everything with calm joy, and that sure-fire confidence that she could do anything that was asked of her. When I moved to New Orleans in 2003, I knew nobody. I had never been to the city before, so we spent days traveling the streets, getting lost, and then unlost together. No matter what happened, where I went, or what I had, or how I felt, she was always there. And that's the way it's always been.
I must confess, that a part of me wonders if this will be her last birthday. She can't live forever, I know this, but the wish is there just the same. The only thing I can do is to make sure that today, and the rest of her todays are all golden.
I don't really have anything to say about her that I haven't said before about a million times. Our relationship is so hard to quantify, and explain to people; especially people who don't have an assistance dog. Even though she's retired, she is still the center of everything I do. From my first half-awake fumble for her Thyroid medication in the morning, even before my feet hit the floor, until I do her eye drops and give her one last snuggle before falling asleep at night. She is always in the back of my mind, and even more now, that she is older.
When I first met her, I didn't want anything to do with her. My first guide dog had just died at age 3 from lymphoma. I wasn't ready to open my heart so fully to anyone. She didn't give me a choice about it. She was like a giant rock; waring down my hurt feelings and anger, and planting the seeds of great love in their place. She continued to be a rock, all through our working relationship, no matter what I threw at her. She handled everything with calm joy, and that sure-fire confidence that she could do anything that was asked of her. When I moved to New Orleans in 2003, I knew nobody. I had never been to the city before, so we spent days traveling the streets, getting lost, and then unlost together. No matter what happened, where I went, or what I had, or how I felt, she was always there. And that's the way it's always been.
I must confess, that a part of me wonders if this will be her last birthday. She can't live forever, I know this, but the wish is there just the same. The only thing I can do is to make sure that today, and the rest of her todays are all golden.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Silent Night, Holy Night.
So this is my first Christmas without Christmas music. Ok, I should actually qualify that because I can still hear *some* music with my iPod and a device that hooks it up to my bluetooth hearing aid. But the funny thing about Christmas music-- at least for me-- was that its all-pervasiveness during the season is what really made it feel like the holiday.
I mean, how many people complain about that music in the grocery store, or the bathroom in the gas station, on the radio and in line at the post office. For a month, everywhere we go we are accompanied by St. Nick, Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer, and Frosty the Snow Man. Not to mention the Hippopotamus someone wants under their tree. It's a very quiet Christmas for me, and I really have to learn to appreciate the holidays in a new way.
I can smell evergreens when we walk toward the store. That smell immediately brings me back to my childhood, gathered around the tree with my sisters telling stories of each ornament we hung.
I love the smell of baking cookies, and cinnamon. The funny moving stuffed animal decorations, and the feeling of ribbon, garland and the hard cold metal ball of a bell in my hand.
When people express amazement that I have a real tree in my house, I smile. The tree is one of the few parts of the season which I can experience. I love the prickly branches, the scent of pine, and the tasks of every-day maintenance. And always there are the ornaments.
When I was a kid, my mother started giving me ornaments for the tree every year. When I moved out, I took the ornaments and hung them on many of my own trees. In August of 2005 they were lost, like so many things were, in the destruction brought on by hurricane Katrina and the failure of the federal levees.
Mister Pawpower and I had gone to Memphis and we had no ornaments. We decided to make our own and so we took a trip to a craft store for pipe cleaners, bulbs, buttons, and puff-paint.
We sat around our little table and created another chapter of our history. That was also the last Christmas I was able to hear any holiday music without amplification.
When we moved back here, we started collecting more ornaments. We still use the ones we made, because they remind me to persevere during the trying times. We have dog-statue ornaments, and many home-made ones from wonderful artist friends. We have funny ones shaped like Bigger (because he's a lot like Mill'E-Max), We have ones with big hearts (for Bristol), We have ones for Rudy, Gracy, and all the other dogs we have had in our lives. This year I believe we will have a striped ornament for our very special striped dog. As we decorate the tree, we tell the stories of how this particular bit of history came to us. So that by the time the tree is decorated, it is a story in its own right.
I have really been making an effort to find new ways to appreciate this time of year. However I can't seem to get away from the music! This morning, I was in Walmart with my SSP. I was surprised I could hear some kind of high pitched noise. I didn't know what it was and more and more, it sounded like someone moaning in pain, or a wounded farm animal. I asked my SSP if she could hear that moaning noise and she replied that that was not moaning, but that song "Angels We Have Heard on High." They were on the "glooooooooooooria" part, I guess. Only it didn't sound very glorious to me. We instead had a good laugh about barn yard animals singing Christmas music, because it really did sound like that! I've ruined Christmas music for her forever now!
I mean, how many people complain about that music in the grocery store, or the bathroom in the gas station, on the radio and in line at the post office. For a month, everywhere we go we are accompanied by St. Nick, Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer, and Frosty the Snow Man. Not to mention the Hippopotamus someone wants under their tree. It's a very quiet Christmas for me, and I really have to learn to appreciate the holidays in a new way.
I can smell evergreens when we walk toward the store. That smell immediately brings me back to my childhood, gathered around the tree with my sisters telling stories of each ornament we hung.
I love the smell of baking cookies, and cinnamon. The funny moving stuffed animal decorations, and the feeling of ribbon, garland and the hard cold metal ball of a bell in my hand.
When people express amazement that I have a real tree in my house, I smile. The tree is one of the few parts of the season which I can experience. I love the prickly branches, the scent of pine, and the tasks of every-day maintenance. And always there are the ornaments.
When I was a kid, my mother started giving me ornaments for the tree every year. When I moved out, I took the ornaments and hung them on many of my own trees. In August of 2005 they were lost, like so many things were, in the destruction brought on by hurricane Katrina and the failure of the federal levees.
Mister Pawpower and I had gone to Memphis and we had no ornaments. We decided to make our own and so we took a trip to a craft store for pipe cleaners, bulbs, buttons, and puff-paint.
We sat around our little table and created another chapter of our history. That was also the last Christmas I was able to hear any holiday music without amplification.
When we moved back here, we started collecting more ornaments. We still use the ones we made, because they remind me to persevere during the trying times. We have dog-statue ornaments, and many home-made ones from wonderful artist friends. We have funny ones shaped like Bigger (because he's a lot like Mill'E-Max), We have ones with big hearts (for Bristol), We have ones for Rudy, Gracy, and all the other dogs we have had in our lives. This year I believe we will have a striped ornament for our very special striped dog. As we decorate the tree, we tell the stories of how this particular bit of history came to us. So that by the time the tree is decorated, it is a story in its own right.
I have really been making an effort to find new ways to appreciate this time of year. However I can't seem to get away from the music! This morning, I was in Walmart with my SSP. I was surprised I could hear some kind of high pitched noise. I didn't know what it was and more and more, it sounded like someone moaning in pain, or a wounded farm animal. I asked my SSP if she could hear that moaning noise and she replied that that was not moaning, but that song "Angels We Have Heard on High." They were on the "glooooooooooooria" part, I guess. Only it didn't sound very glorious to me. We instead had a good laugh about barn yard animals singing Christmas music, because it really did sound like that! I've ruined Christmas music for her forever now!
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."
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Pizza!
Don't get me wrong; I love to cook. However sometimes I'm feeling lazy and just want to order in and have dinner in my PJ's. Most of the time Mister Pawpower is around to call in our order, but when he is away, I go through what can only be described as phone hell to order dinner. It usually goes something like this.
I call the restaurant using Relay, and the person on the other end picks up:
Person: "Hello?"
Relay Operator: *explains relay*
P: "We don't want any"
*hang up*
Me: "redial number"
RO: *explains relay*
P: "I told you! I'm busy and don't want any!"
*hangs up*
Me: *gritting teeth and wondering if I should just suck it up and cook.
Eventually I get someone who isn't an idiot and I order dinner. Sometimes they won't listen so I send a nastygram to corporate, CC'ing the local manager. This usually results in shamed-face apology, as it should.
However, while perusing the iPhone App store, I found that Domino's has an app where you can order your pizza. It's very accessible with voiceover and a braille display. Better yet, I don't have to talk to ignorant people who don't listen to learn what relay is. Even better still, the app has a "pizza tracker" and it tells you where your pizza is in the making process, e.g. being made, cooking, out for delivery, etc. This was a liberating experience and their chocolate lava cakes are to die for. Now I have been spoiled by Domino's, I think all restaurants should have an app. Everyone accept the greek place who actually doesn't give me relay guff.
Pizza, anyone?
I call the restaurant using Relay, and the person on the other end picks up:
Person: "Hello?"
Relay Operator: *explains relay*
P: "We don't want any"
*hang up*
Me: "redial number"
RO: *explains relay*
P: "I told you! I'm busy and don't want any!"
*hangs up*
Me: *gritting teeth and wondering if I should just suck it up and cook.
Eventually I get someone who isn't an idiot and I order dinner. Sometimes they won't listen so I send a nastygram to corporate, CC'ing the local manager. This usually results in shamed-face apology, as it should.
However, while perusing the iPhone App store, I found that Domino's has an app where you can order your pizza. It's very accessible with voiceover and a braille display. Better yet, I don't have to talk to ignorant people who don't listen to learn what relay is. Even better still, the app has a "pizza tracker" and it tells you where your pizza is in the making process, e.g. being made, cooking, out for delivery, etc. This was a liberating experience and their chocolate lava cakes are to die for. Now I have been spoiled by Domino's, I think all restaurants should have an app. Everyone accept the greek place who actually doesn't give me relay guff.
Pizza, anyone?
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Festive Friday
Friday was the annual Holiday Party for work. For the past three or so years, they have chosen to hold it at this buffet place. Why upper management would pick a buffet to be the party place for a bunch of blind people is beyond me, but whatever. I asked my SSP to come with me and then do some holiday shopping afterward.
We arrived a bit late and found a table with my friend Laura, and another Deafblind coworker and his interpreter. We all chatted and hung out until the festivities started. We always have to pray before we eat-- a practice that makes me extremely uncomfortable. Religion, like politics, are things that should stay out of the workplace. Along with the prayer, there was some rambling about how "Jesus is the reason for the season." I'm sure the Jews and Pagans, and others in the audience didn't quite agree with that statement.
After all of that was finished it was time to go to the buffet. The line was in a very narrow space, and I was squeezed in with my SSP and Laveau. I wasn't very hungry, so got a little food and then went back to my seat. I always feel like I have to eat at rapid speed at this thing if I want to be a part of any lunch conversation. I have yet to grow that extra set of arms which will allow me to eat and talk at the same time. After the meal, we received hats with the number of years we've worked there printed on the back. We also got an end of year gift check which will come in handy.
After the festivities, my SSP and I went shopping. I can't list the places where we went, because I wouldn't want to give anything away. We eventually made our way to our vets to get flea and hart-worm medication for the girls, and to snag Laveau's Proin, which is the medication she takes for spay incontinence. Laveau got weighed and she's 60 lbs. She could gain a couple of pounds and still be fine. At 26 inches tall, her height is mostly leg, but I've noticed her looking a bit ribbie lately, so have taken to upping her food amounts. She is quite thrilled about this.
That night, I gave Gracy back to my friend across the river. We went to dinner first and since I still wasn't hungry, I mostly sat around and chatted which was nice. All in all, it was a pretty busy day!
We arrived a bit late and found a table with my friend Laura, and another Deafblind coworker and his interpreter. We all chatted and hung out until the festivities started. We always have to pray before we eat-- a practice that makes me extremely uncomfortable. Religion, like politics, are things that should stay out of the workplace. Along with the prayer, there was some rambling about how "Jesus is the reason for the season." I'm sure the Jews and Pagans, and others in the audience didn't quite agree with that statement.
After all of that was finished it was time to go to the buffet. The line was in a very narrow space, and I was squeezed in with my SSP and Laveau. I wasn't very hungry, so got a little food and then went back to my seat. I always feel like I have to eat at rapid speed at this thing if I want to be a part of any lunch conversation. I have yet to grow that extra set of arms which will allow me to eat and talk at the same time. After the meal, we received hats with the number of years we've worked there printed on the back. We also got an end of year gift check which will come in handy.
After the festivities, my SSP and I went shopping. I can't list the places where we went, because I wouldn't want to give anything away. We eventually made our way to our vets to get flea and hart-worm medication for the girls, and to snag Laveau's Proin, which is the medication she takes for spay incontinence. Laveau got weighed and she's 60 lbs. She could gain a couple of pounds and still be fine. At 26 inches tall, her height is mostly leg, but I've noticed her looking a bit ribbie lately, so have taken to upping her food amounts. She is quite thrilled about this.
That night, I gave Gracy back to my friend across the river. We went to dinner first and since I still wasn't hungry, I mostly sat around and chatted which was nice. All in all, it was a pretty busy day!
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