Archive for June 30, 2016

The sky is too bright

In true British fashion, we are forever complaining about the weather.  ‘It’s too cold’, ‘it’s too wet’ or when the sun is actually out…. ‘it’s too hot!’

Throw into the mix a visual impairment and then it becomes, ‘It’s too dark’, ‘it’s too grey’, ‘it’s too bright’, ‘it’s too cloudy’ or ‘there isn’t enough cloud Coverage!’

I most definitely fall into the latter category……… I am definitely best suited to a dull grey day or a blue sky (but only in the summer months, not the winter -then the sun is to low!!)

This is something I am finding to be an issue more and more of late.

While sat in a friends car yesterday I put the sun visor down, but on a jaunty angle.  The reason for this, wasn’t bright sunshine, rather a sky full of bright white clouds ready to turn black at any given moment and empty their content over those unfortunate enough not to be dressed for it!

My friend asked if I was ok? it was then that I realised I had never actually told anyone about these issues that I

So I started to explained it only it isn’t actually that easy to explain, because it is still pretty hard for me to understand and make sense of it myself.

By having a bright cloudy sky my eyes are drawn to it, I become like a magpie!  I can see the bright shiny, but then I find it hard to see anything else, not that I can see much!

So. By putting down the visor I block out the light,stopping myself being drawn to it and am able to try and focus on other things, like being able to see the colour of the car in front of us, or the shop and building colours?

Just more of the little things that are so insignificant to others, but are beginning to become more and more noticeable to me as I struggle to see them!

This is just s small hurdle I am to overcome before I can continue on my way.

When help came with its own terms !!

I was invited to meet friends for a drink.  They suggested somewhere new, somewhere I have never been before……

Sure, no trouble, have pooch, can travel.

Only when it came to the date, pooch was off work with a water infection.

My anxiety was telling me to cancel, but my stubbornness was telling me I could do this, worst case, I could always ask for assistance once there if needed.

So, off I went with my cane, found the pub and the entrance….

Light levels at this time of year mean that even when it is raining, it is very bright light (to me anyway, maybe not to everyone)

I focused in on the bar and was doing alright.  I stood by the bar enjoying my drink and allowing my eyes to adjust to the interior light.  This was a bit of a struggle as each of the tables had a church candle on it, causing me go struggle to work out if the table was empty or had people sat around.

When a voice came up beside me,

Hello miss, can I help you find a table?

Thank you, yes if I could …..

But I never got to finish before the older gentleman grabbed for my hand and started walking with me.

I was lost for words initially, then managed

can I please take your arm, rather than you hold my hand?”

To which he let go of my hand; I thought he was going to offer me his arm, instead he turned to face me and in an annoyed tone said,

If you aren’t happy with me helping you, I won’t bother at all!

Before walking off……

I was lost for words, I hadn’t meant to cause offence, but anyone who has ever been guided before, would tell you that holding an arm gives you the ability to understand and follow the movement of your guide.  Holding their hand can make you feel like your being dragged.

Thankfully the barmaid came to my aid, apologised for her rude customer and guided me to a nice table, where I was able to sit before my friends arrived.

I am always appreciative of help, if I didn’t want the help I would have said ‘no thank you’ straight out, I also appreciate that those who offer assistance do not know me, may not know how to best help.  I do get that, but to have this reaction was a new one for me….. I guess that’s just another one to add to the ‘funny things that happen when you are blind’ list.

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