Without my knowledge, our son softly spoke as he leaned over to his dad’s ear, “Mom’s eyes are getting worse, aren’t they?“
My husband agreed, then later shared it with me in a gentle explanation. “You get more moody and frustrated . . . probably because it’s taking you longer, or you’re unable to do the same things anymore.”
My mind rolled back to high school where I was accustomed to imperfect acuity from a cyst on my retina causing a blind spot and tripping me when moving too fast. My friends rarely noticed though, so learning after my first year of college I had an incurable, hereditary, and progressive eye disease called Retinitis Pigmentosa surprised me.
The real shocker though, was they also informed me I was legally blind due to peripheral vision – whatever that was. Okay, okay. They explained symptoms of RP were night blindness and tunnel vision, but I didn’t know my blind spot had gotten bigger. Evidently, 90 degrees is normal peripheral vision; I had 15. Less than twenty meant you were legally blind.
Moving Forward
From that day forward, vision loss became a normal part of life with each adjustment phase taking 3-6 months before repeating itself. However, adjustment meant changing everyday skills, reading, and mobility all at the same time.
Taking extra time to find where my college classes were at the beginning of each semester and sitting in the front row were my only limitations during the day. I actually felt like a human, except when going outside at night or to darkly lit places, then I felt like someone blind-folded me and knocked all my air out.
Going through some mobility training after my sophomore year in college helped me. I was introduced to the white cane and techniques I could utilize in new surroundings. Empowered by knowing how to teach my friends to guide me also helped tremendously. Professors actually let me copy from my neighbors too.
Since familiar areas and daylight weren’t a problem, I’d forget I had trouble seeing. But, when the lights went low or out, I instantly was reminded. Laying books I could see on my bed before going to eat, or to a Bible-study, couldn’t be found by sight upon returning. Assuming everything would be the same, I’d forget to pay attention . . . I forgot I was visually impaired. It could be likened to forgetting your umbrella every day because rain wasn’t in the forecast yet getting caught in a downpour on your way home. Some people have part-time jobs – I had part-time blindness.
Adjusting
Adjusting to vision loss also means landing in unplanned, unpredictable, and often embarrassing situations. A friend and I went out to eat. Standing behind her in line, I waited for her to pay. Silence – not one peep or shuffle.
Suddenly, my friend blurted, “Aren’t you going to pay the lady?”
Blushing, I spoke politely, “I didn’t know it was my turn. How much?” Walking away, my voice got louder . . . and my face redder with each step. “She NEVER told me the amount so I thought you were still paying. I couldn’t tell she was looking at me in this dark place! I’ve never run into a cashier who didn’t tell you your total.”
“I’m sorry, her hand was extended towards you. I didn’t notice her not saying the total out loud. You’ve never needed help before.“
This situation engraved the need to pay attention to details in my brain. Light or dark, seeing or visually impaired, it was imperative to notice where I set everything. This has been a life lesson not only improving attentiveness, but also observation, my memory, and the ability to adapt.
When vision loss or another tragedy faces you, the initial shock will wear off. After feeling normal and victorious, a trigger will spring up, reminding you of the loss all over again. Emotions shoot up like an unexpected geyser. Know they will pass and the cycle will repeat itself, but choose to improve skills and character along the way.
Is there a loss you face that has recurred? What have you learned from any of the losses in your life? Tell us in the comments below.
© 2022, Jena Fellers. All rights reserved.
Dola Warlick says
Your story enlighten me since I’m going through some of the struggles with my husband. You’re a remarkable lady and thank you for sharing