Blinded!

My assignment was to simulate being deaf or blind for a few hours and write about our experiences. I considered being deaf first. My husband Rick got chocked. "You can't hear on a regular basis, so that wouldn't be much of a learning experience. I'd say you better be blind."

It was not his assignment, but decided to humor him. My eye patches were made from duct tape—my usual repair tool. To be extra sure I could not see--I'd known myself playing 7-Up too long, I wrapped my head with an Ace bandage. Everything was black.

My husband was in the car waiting for me while I donned my blindness attire. Making my way from the bathroom to the front door was difficult. I was nervous and was surprised how difficult negotiating my own home was. I have a mental map of the floor plan and have walked about in the dark many times. Dark, however, is not blind. Afraid that I would bump into or break something, I walked mummy-style: Head up and arms stretched out while taking hesitant steps. I was glad Rick was in the car, so my maiden voyage would be in private.

I made it to the porch, closed and locked the door and felt good until I was knocked on my keister by the dogs bounding up to greet me. They wanted to play. I was not in the mood as they discovered with the first my screech and kick. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for an old lady to get up off the floor? Hope the neighbors like my panties!

I couldn’t remember how many steps we had to the porch. I had lived here eight years and had no clue. I also wondered why Rick hadn’t yelled to hurry up as I tried to make my way to where I had parked the car when I came home.

Unbeknownst to me that hilarious man that I married exchanged the location of our two cars while I was in the house. I went in the wrong direction, got into the wrong car, and when Rick didn’t respond to my question, I realized the motor wasn't running. As I got out of the wrong car, I had no trouble finding the right car was now due to Rick’s uncontrolled laughter.

When I got to the correct car, I had to feel along the vehicle to find my door. Now my hands were filthy because we live three miles from any form of paved road. Yuck!

Our outing was fairly uneventful because I did not get out of the car. In fact, Rick strongly suggested that I stay in to car. I know he didn't want to be embarrassed by my blindfold. This made me wonder how many times blind people are not wanted around because their impairment would prove embarrassing or put others out by having to help or guide.

I didn’t have to cook, thank goodness, as Rick is in charge of that chore. I did have to eat and that was no cakewalk. Empathy again reared its head. Listening to television wasn’t too bad, I could follow what was going on. But, sometimes I had a terrible urge to want to “peek”. I found it interesting that Rick turned the volume up on the television because I was blind. I know, I know! Sight-impaired people face this every day. How many times imagine.

Later, I wanted to take a turn around the yard even though it was dark. Rick insisted that I wear his hat with a light on top. Disgusted and in a louder-than-necessary voice, I "explained" I was blind, not deaf! He "explained" that with an eight acre yard, he wanted to be able to find me when I got lost. The light was for him, not me. He also made me take a whistle in case I needed him to come get me. And, finally, he suggested that if I ran into big trees, I was in our seventy wooded acres and to please blow the whistle and stay put until he could find me. I guess blind people's loved ones are constantly worried about their well-being which must make the handicapped feel like a huge burden.

I asked for a cane and Rick got me a stick and I was off with the dogs and cats trailing behind……I think, I hope. Something was back there that kept brushing up against me. We have many wild critters that come out to play at night. It could have been a possum or a skunk. When we neared the guinea roost, those gosh-darned varmints started their incessant “buckwheating”, and kept it up over twenty minutes. I wanted to use the damn stick and beat them to death….but I would not be able to see them, so the flowers on their roost would be beaten to death instead.

I enjoyed the night. There was a different feel about it. A calm peacefulness permeated the night. Once the guineas quieted down, the whippoorwills and the cicadas sang me to sleep as I rocked in the swing. Callie jumped into my lap and settled down, and began to purr. The dogs lay down far away. God was in His heaven and all was right with the world.

A fierce, hostile yapping tore through the night. It was a pack of coyotes and they were much too close for our comfort. We were all up and streaking toward the house. The animals made it. I did not. In my gut wrenching fear, I had forgotten I was blind. I lay on the ground with a broken nose. My extremely protective animals watched from the safety of the porch.

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