Good afternoon Bloggets. I can’t believe how quiet our house
is without our bird. Wagga for the past two days has been in her bed too. When
The Little Fella comes home from a day in the office with his Dad, she plays
and is her normal playful self. During the day, she is acting so much like
Black Beauty, my first guide dog. BB was so quiet and slept 80% of her days. I often
had to wake her up to work. It’s funny though I just got up to walk to
Waggatails bed just to make sure she was in it as it’s not like her to be so
still. As humungous Fifi headed her way, she jumped from her bed as if to say,
Mum, I know you can’t see, so there isn’t a chance I’m going to be stood on by
you. It would be more than a vet I would require; it would be a miracle to pull
through from that.
It’s funny how our dogs learn we can’t see. Our dogs put
their toys in our hand rather than just stand there and when the Little Fella
is in our garden, when I call on him, he runs to me and makes contact with my
hand. Even my pet dog many moons ago, Kara used to do this, and if I was at my
Mums house, we would all be sitting as a family, Kara would lay there not move
no matter who got from the chair and walked towards her, but if I got up, boy
she moved…
Same with our children. When I had my Son, he would lay with
his head in my left arm and I would keep a hold of him with my left hand, feed
him his bottle with my right hand. So, where was his mouth? Good question.
Answer, where it always was, smile. It hadn’t moved. But I couldn’t see enough
to put the teat in his mouth. So I adapted to be able to use my pointing finger
straight just above the teat and would locate his mouth with that then feed the
bottle along my finger to enter his mouth, which was always ready to feast.
I had a lot of sight then, but if it was dark or dusk, I
couldn’t see much or sometimes nothing, in the right lighting my sight was
brilliant, but I could only see pin holes of whatever was in front of me.
As my baby got older and required spoon feeding, I would sit
him in his high chair and fill the spoon, then hold it in front of him. He soon
learned to come to the spoon. It was only when I fed other babies as the months
passed, I realised what a little star my Son was. As I would hold the spoon out
to them, they would scream the house down because the food wasn’t going to
them. You see my eye condition was such that my sight was great until something
moved. So a baby doesn’t keep still. So I would see his mouth, great, quick,
put spoon to target, but then I had to find the spoon in my view, then match
the two and connect, by then, the mouth had moved… Oops, there’s a nose. Smile.
I remember too well, the night I went to bed, thinking life
was tough as a person who was partially sighted. Only to wake up with the
nightmare that partially sighted was a breeze in comparison to what I was to
face over the next so many years.
The devastation and fear will never leave me. I still feel
that cold shiver of dread and absolute terror; my inner organs were dull like a
cloud that forebode a storm. My storm was nothing that I could do about, no
shelter for me and nowhere to turn. Without support I was alone in the new world,
which I had no real choice, other than to learn to adapt, for my child’s sake,
rather than for my own sanity.
I would learn to ski, no not on the beautiful
slopes of Switzerland, but in my own house. Ski or scream… Have you ever stood
on Lego building bricks? I can tell you it kills in bear feet. Even in
slippers, you can twist your ankle on a toy. Also you don’t want to explain to
your child as they look at you in disbelief, that you have killed his Thomas
the tank engine.
On days when I didn’t want to get out of bed, because each
day looked the same. Dark and depressing, I had to because I was a Mother. My
child needed me. My parents had both just died and my ex was a work and play aholic.
He came home to sleep and eat. Family interaction wasn’t really his thing sadly
leaving me to put my baby to bed as I couldn’t read Braille, I couldn’t see to
read a story, what was left? Good job I had an imagination. Those cuddly toys
used to get up to some naughty tricks and all of them had different voices. My
baby had a huge gold dog called Rodger. Why Rodger? Not sure only that is what
I named him. Rodger had a very husky voice and deep. Sarah on an other hand,
was softly spoken. One night, I was so exhausted. I really couldn’t e bothered
remembering the characters. My little two year old said. “Mummy, that isn’t
Sarah, that’s Rodgers voice.” I was truly told off but was able to get out of
the situation and continue a story which filled my child’s head with, em. Well,
em. Intrigue? Haha. Seriously, not sure what it did to his head, but he is a
good boy, kind and caring. Though extremely complex in many ways.
Today my 6 feet 3 Son, is volunteering for four hours as the
lady who runs the establishment is ill with cancer. If he had not stepped in,
she would have had to turn up for work as it’s her business and Teen said she
is looking really ill. So ages ago he offered to help out for free, and she has
called him. Bless her, I hope to goodness she will be OK as teen really cares
about this lady. I can’t imagine many nineteen year olds giving up a free
afternoon for someone without pay.
Whilst the wind howls through my windows, Hub has just been
on the phone. He missed his train as the weather where he has found himself
today is so bad the taxi that was to pick him up was really late. Anyway,
safely he and LF got to the train station and they are on the next train.
Our dogs have a busy day on Saturday. We are off to our
town. Hmm. Thinking I am going to leave Wags here and take my white cane as for
the first time with LF I will try to keep up with the two of them. On our way
back, we will collect Waggs as we are to go to our vets just for a check-up. So
Saturdays blog may be a one of interest, as we may head off into the distance
we know as venturing out. When we return, I always thank our maker as well as
our dogs, as to me it’s still a miracle. How far I have come from the bad old
days of blindness. Mind you, having my beautiful clever brave Hub helps.
I shall try to write a blog tomorrow, as just had a phone call
I have a meeting in the morning that I wasn’t expecting, but I’m sure I will
find some time to check in and again, thank you for your emails and I shall
answer them as soon as possible. Thank you to my dear Blogget and friend in
South Africa. She is my pill for the day. I adore her emails and to me they are
like medicine as her words write so well and even those words that are slightly
sad, I find her writing uplifting. Also she is hyper intelligent and I adore
her vision, her diary and lifestyle. And to my Blogget Steve in Australia, I
have written your poem, will send it to you tonight. So, until next time we
meet here, I send my love.x
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