This Blog

I’ve been giving some thought to this blog.

With the end of the Camino, and the return to a full-time job, my blog has suffered from my lack of attention. But not lack of love.

I feel grateful for the memories and photos stored on these virtual pages. I love that on any given day, I can go to this website and click on a date from my pilgrimage and immediately be drawn right back onto the Camino path. In addition, I appreciate the outlet this blog has provided as I work through thoughts on faith, life, and vision loss.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too much, having a blog that talks about such specific and different topics – the Camino, my faith, my vision loss, etc. – all in one place.  Would it be better if to have separate blogs for each category, so that people who are interested in the Camino, for example, don’t have to weed through random posts on singleness or the Advent season to get the information they want?

Perhaps…

But, thinking it through, I realize that separating these posts into their own blogs wouldn’t be true to who I am, or how I process things.  The fact is, all of these “topics” coexist within me, so why not have them coexist in one blog?

There’s probably a better way to organize it all, and maybe on some rainy day I’ll figure out a new set-up to help Camino people find Camino posts easily, while the Retinitis Pigmentosa people can go straight to my adventures with the cane.  Or maybe readers don’t mind stumbling over one to get to the other, and I should just let it all grow together, like some wild and beautiful garden.

In the end, I think it’s safe to say that I’ll keep the blog. I like having it. My posts may be scattered, and it’s anyone’s guess which topic will plant and blossom next, but that’s okay. It’s mine. That’s who I am.

Thanks for reading.

25 Things About My Life with RP

For those of you not on Facebook, there is currently a “meme” going around where people share 25 random facts about themselves. After writing their list, they then “tag” 25 Facebook friends, asking them to complete it as well. All in all, it is a really cool way to learn some interesting, poignant, random, and entertaining facts about your friends.

Despite being tagged, I have held off completing this task, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say. However, today I came up with a spin on idea that makes me excited to give it a go: Instead of writing 25 random/general things about me, I have decided to write 25 specific things about my life with Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP).

25 Things About My Life with RP

1. I have lost about 75% of my vision, mostly peripheral.
2. Night blindness is one side effect of RP. I cannot see anything in the dark. If it’s pitch black out and I only have a flashlight, I can only sort of see where the small beam of light is pointed.
3. My central vision is awesome. Contacts and glasses correct my central vision to 20/40.
4. I can still read small fonts without problem, but if I have the option I will usually select a larger font.
5. RP is totally frustrating in that it is completely unpredictable. My highly trained and specialized eye doctor has no way of knowing how much vision I will retain or lose, and at what rate or speed. I was told that I might have my central vision for 10, 20, or 30 years.
6. People have asked me what my lost vision “looks” like. I tell them that my lost vision isn’t replaced with anything like blackness or darkness… it’s just like a void, or a hole, or an interruption in my visual field. Where ever there is a “hole” in my visual field, my remaining vision just sort of fades into and out of the emptiness.
7. I can only see very bright stars in places with low light pollution. One of my favorite activities is to have a friend try and point out stars for me.
8. I LOVE fireworks. I pretend they are stars.
9. Dimly-lit restaurants are an obstacle course for me. Most times I can get by with just following the waiter or companion to the table (I dodge where they dodge, I step where they step, etc.). If it’s too dark, then I’ll ask to take a friend’s arm.
10. I have had a couple of people try “test” me, to see if I am faking my vision loss.
11. I have unintentionally knocked over, or run into, the following items because of my vision loss: a chair, fire hydrant, stool, table, car, Wet Floor signs, directional signs, dogs, cats, and children.
12. Quiet, stealthy children should be encouraged to wear little, tinkling bells at all times. Either that or carry Tic-Tacs with them.
13. I am adamant about getting to movies early because I hate walking in when the theater is dark.
14. I have to sit far away from the movie screen, in order to get as much of it into my central vision as possible.
15. Bright light hurts my eyes.
16. Cloudy days can be just as bright as sunny days sometimes.
17. If I am sitting in a dark restaurant, facing a bright window, I will ask to move, or change seats with someone because it hurts my eyes to look into the bright light.
18. I prefer to sit in seats where the light is directly behind me, thus illuminating everything in front of me.
19. It takes a minute or two for my eyes to adjust if I go from dark to light, or vice versa. For this reason, I will often stop right when I walk into a building from outside. Or I will put on sunglasses right before I exit a building, if I know it is bright outside.
20. I could probably create a whole separate list of “25 things” just for my favorite “visual delights” (things that will make me stop and stare). Examples include: sunlight on water (fountains, ocean, lakes, etc.); rainbows; seeing the world from a plane; shadows; falling leaves; artwork; etc.
21. One of the most randomly specific visual delights that I can think of can be found at Jupiter’s bar in CU: the reflection of the pool table light on the wood benches is just BEAUTIFUL. I love it. It’s a rainbow of color.
22. I have a hard time not stopping and explaining to every confused person I see what RP is, and why I might need a cane to get from one location to another, but can then read a book once I get there.
23. I am still figuring out where and when I should use my cane. For now, I mostly just use it when I am alone, and/or in crowded or unfamiliar places. I definitely use it if I am alone and it’s dark.
24. I am currently struggling with when to tell prospective employers about my vision loss. Do I tell them before they offer me a job? When they offer me a job? After I am hired? Or should I stay silent?
25. My vision loss has been a HUGE blessing to me. It has led me to a wonderful relationship with God. It allows me to appreciate “visual delights.” It helps me to enjoy the small things in life.

That was more fun that I thought it would be! I hope you enjoyed reading it as well. If anyone would be interested in reading a “25 Things About the Camino de Santiago” one, let me know. Now that I have the hang of this, I’m thinking it might be fun to try again…

Four Years Ago Today

Four years ago today I choose to stop driving because of my vision loss, caused by Retinitis Pigmentosa.

On November 12, 2004, I had an annual appointment with my ophthalmologist. At the appointment, my doctor asked me the usual questions about how my vision was doing. Then he paused, and asked me if I was still driving.

I responded, “Oh yes! I had a great drive in today. It’s a beautiful day out and…”

The look on my doctor’s face stopped me mid-sentence. At that moment I knew that it was time for me to stop driving.

People with RP, or slow vision loss, often wonder how they are supposed to know when it is time to “hang up the keys.” I always knew that the day would come when I would have to stop driving, but I didn’t know when, or how I was going to make that decision. I didn’t want to sell myself short and cut off that independence too soon, but I also didn’t want to endanger myself or others. It’s a fine line. A very fine line.

So when that day came, and I saw the look on my doctor’s face, I think it confirmed what I already knew, but I couldn’t seem to decide for myself. It took the authority figure of my doctor to help me realize the potential danger I was putting myself and others in.

So I choose to stop. Right then and there. Cold turkey. I didn’t even drive home from the appointment. The look on my doctor’s face hit me that hard. Plus, I knew myself well enough to know that if I didn’t quit cold turkey, then that “fine line” would always be blurred. I might always be tempted to drive “just one more time.”

Quitting driving was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make. To consciously give up that independence was devastating. Absolutely devastating. As melodramatic as this is going to sound, I really didn’t know how I was going to survive.

In addition, at the appointment, my doctor told me that the flashes of light I had been seeing inside my eyes since my high school years, were cells dying. Every flash of light was more vision lost. I had no idea. I mean, I figured it had something to do with my Retinitis Pigmentosa, but I didn’t realize that it was literally cells dying. I could no longer deny that I was losing my vision; the flashes in my eyes wouldn’t let me.

My loss of independence from driving devastated me, but it was my inability to hide from my vision loss that really shattered me. I felt broken, and incapable of doing anything to fix the situation or myself. So I did the only thing I could think to do: I turned to God.

At this point in my faith, I was still loosely drawing the boundary lines of what I believed and what I didn’t. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I turned to God, I just knew that it felt like my only option. I was that depressed and hopeless.

So I prayed, and I asked people in my church community to pray for me. Later, I found out that people in my church then asked others to pray too. People I didn’t even know where praying for me, trying to help me overcome the loss of independence that driving once provided me, and also to help me accept my impending vision loss. It was humbling, to say the least.

Months passed. Grief lingered over the winter, despite the help and support of my amazing family, friends and church community. But then, slowly, the following summer, the veil started to lift. And one morning, I woke up, and I just knew that it was all going to be okay. The grief was gone. Just like that.

And so here I am, four years later. It’s amazing how things can change in such a short amount of time. I no longer feel devastated or shattered by my vision loss. Rather, I consider it one of the biggest blessings of my life because, ironically, in the end, my vision loss is what opened my eyes to the power of God. And for that I will always be grateful.

Do I miss driving? Of course. I used to love taking the “Magic Bean” (the name of my 1996 Honda Civic Hatchback) on road trips. Highway driving was my favorite: a long stretch of road, music on the radio, and the wind in my hair. And, I miss the convenience of driving and owning a car. If I forgot something at the store, I could just zoom out and get it.

But I no longer feel hopeless without it. Thanks to my family, my friends, and the various means of transportation (rail, air, bus, not to mention my own two legs), I have options. And, I think that is one of the hardest things about vision loss: Something is taken away from you without your consent, and it is difficult to remember that you still have options. You still have choices. You can still have independence.

I feel particularly grateful to my family and friends, who have helped me understand this. Thank you for mourning with me, when I needed to grieve. And thank you for supporting and encouraging me as I took those first few timid steps back into my newly found independence.

Because of your support and encouragement, those first few baby steps eventually led to me walking across Spain.

Who knows what other adventures still await.

Blessings,
Luci

Camino Q&A

I have received a lot of questions about the Camino and I thought I would put them in writing. If you have additional questions, just let me know!

Q: What kind of news do you get about home? Anything about the upcoming election, or are you like “it can wait.”

A: We actually didn’t get a lot of news while on the Camino. One day we stopped at a bar and we saw Bush on Spanish news with the words $700 Billion, and we knew something big was going on. It wasn’t until I got back though that I really learned what “The Bailout” was all about. That was the extent of the US news we received. Incidentally, Spain received some major flooding in their southern regions while we were there, and so we did see some coverage of that.

Q: Do you and Ann dine mostly alone or with others?

A: Breakfast and lunch was usually with just the two of us. As for dinners… I’d say at the beginning of the Camino the two of us ate alone, but near the end of the Camino we usually had dinner with other pilgrims we met along the way.

Q: What do people most want to know about you when you meet them (after they find out you are American and don’t speak much Spanish)?

A: Conversation among pilgrims usually revolves around three things: 1) Distance (kilometers walked that day, since we started the Camino, and remaining until Santiago). 2) Foot health (how many blisters and how big). And 3) Snoring. (It amazing how many different types of snoring there are.)

When you start to get to know other pilgrims, conversations will then go a little deeper and you find out a little more about each other. But for the most part, those three topics dominate pilgrim conversations. (And, yes, it does get old.)

Q: Are you up front with them about your night-blindness and “low vision” or do you wait to talk about it until they bring it up?

A: I only ended up telling a handful of people about my vision loss. It’s not that I was trying to hide it, it’s just that often times there really wasn’t a point to bringing it up. Most people we met we only saw a handful of times and conversations wouldn’t go that “deep.” Or, an opportunity to share just never came up.

Q: Has your vision been a problem more so on the Camino vs. if you had just stayed home, or is it about the same kind of challenge still?

A: In essence, vision loss is a challenge no matter where you are. However, trying to traverse 400 miles of sometimes very rocky and uneven surfaces definitely presented a greater challenge than simply walking around the house, where I have already identified furniture, steps and other hazards.

I think it’s fair to say that familiar surroundings are always going to be preferred by anyone with vision loss, but that doesn’t mean that they should never venture out. What kind of life would that be?

Q: Have you felt safe most of the time, or are you being very conscious of where your money and bags are all the time, etc., and watching your back always out of the corner of your eye?

A: Ann and I were amazed at how safe we each felt while walking the Camino. That said, you should always be aware of your surroundings, and keep an eye on your possessions.

Pilgrims walking the Camino are protected by Spanish law. Offenses committed against them are taken very seriously. Sitting here now, I cannot remember a time when I felt any kind of danger. Some local people may not like all of the pilgrims constantly coming through their towns, but I never felt like I was ever in any kind of harm’s way.

Honestly, if I didn’t have vision loss and need some assistance on that front, I would feel comfortable walking the Camino by myself, a single woman.

Q: Is the Camino crowded? How many people are on it at the same time as you? Do you and Ann walk alone or find a group to walk with? Do people pass you up and walk faster?

A: There were some days that the Camino felt like a highway. We would climb to the top of a hill and look down the other side and see people all along the road. Other days, we wouldn’t run into anyone. Most days though, we would see a handful or people when they passed us. We were almost always the slowest people walking. Also, for the most part, Ann and I walked separately, each lost in our own thoughts.

Q: Would you do it again?

A: Ah, the million dollar question. When I first started walking, I often wondered why anyone would come back and do it a second, third, or more times. About two-thirds of the way through though, I began to understand why.

The Camino is unlike anything else in the world. It is a safe, reasonably affordable, well-marked journey that provides a unique opportunity to disconnect – from the world, from problems, from people, etc. Everyone I met on the Camino seemed to be at some sort of crossroads in their life.

The Camino was much tougher physically than I was prepared for. Low vision and aching feet made each day challenging. Also, the alburgues became as much of a challenge for me as the walking. Because of my vision loss, I was never fully able to relax when I stayed in an alburgue. I would always have to be on high alert, looking out for boots and backpacks and other gear. Plus, I’m an introvert and I never got the “alone time” I needed at the end of the day.

But then there were the spiritual highs I experienced during the walking day, the times when I was able to transcend any physical or emotional issues I was having and focus solely on God. During those times, I never wanted the Camino to end.

So, would I do it again?

Yes.

I can’t believe I just wrote that. But, yes. I would walk it again. Now that I’m back at home, and the physical pain has subsided, I keep thinking about the time I spent in prayer with God. It was amazing and unlike anything I had ever experienced. It alone was worth every step.

Jubilee in Santiago de Compostela

Santiago de Compostela Cathedral

We Made It! 400 Miles in 41 days of walking.

FOUR HUNDRED MILES in FOURTY ONE DAYS. (Actually, it took 43 days, but two of them were rest days, so I´m not counting them.)

400 miles. Amazing.

Can you believe it? I can´t believe it.

The last two days went really well. No rain, just tired bodies and feet, but spirits were high.

Yesterday, as I started my last day of walking, I declared to Ann that it was to be a “Day of Jubilee.” I felt such joy! It was the best way I could find to express all of the joy in my heart. And, right before we arrived in Santiago, we climbed our last Galacian hill called Monto de Gozo, which translates to Mount of Joy. It was there we saw our first sights of Santiago de Compostela. Jubilee on Mount Joy!

Once we arrived in the city center around 2:00 p.m., it took us a couple hours to find lodging, but we finally did. At last, our pilgirmage was over. At least the physical one is over. I can only imagine the ways it will continue spiritually…

The Day of Jubilee was capped off with one last international pilgrim dinner with Penny and Terry (sisters from Canada), Niel and Mia (friends from Denmark), Rowan and Aiden (father and son from Ireland), and Ann and myself. (I even managed to have some chocolate cake, which only added to the jubilee.) As Ann and I walked back to our hotel after dinner, we walked among some street musicians playing traditional Galacian music. It was a perfect end of day to an incredible journey.

This morning, we treated ourselves to a nice long sleep in (9:00 a.m.) and then went and got our Compostelas from the Pilgrim Office in Santiago. The Compostela is basically a fancy certificate saying that we walked at least 100 kilometers to Santiago. (When I get home, I´ll scan it and post it on here for you.)

I have to be honest… this whole time, walking to Santiago, I didn´t think the Compostela would be a big deal for me. I mean, it´s just a piece of paper. But for some reason, it really meant a lot to me when I finally received it. It felt like exactly what it was… some kind of official recognition of everything I went through: the blisters, the tears, the foot pain, but also the joy, and peace, and love. When I look at that certificate, I don´t just see fancy writing… I see everything I went through to get here.

After receiving our Compostelas, we headed to the pilgrim´s mass at the Cathedral with 1000 of our closest international friends. After that, we treated ourselves to a nice lunch and now, here I am, sitting in an internet cafe in the middle of an ancient city that has been a pilgrimage destination for millions of people for more than a thousand years.

I have to admit, I´m feeling pretty proud of myself at the moment. One of the many reasons I wanted to do this pilgrimage was to simply see if I could do it. And I did. I had no idea that I was capable of such a thing. It makes me wonder what else I could do if I set my mind to it. It makes me wonder what anyone could do with enough love and support and courage.

Four Hundred Miles.
Four hundred miles of mountains and meseta.
Four hundred miles with 75 percent vision loss.
Four hundred miles of foot pain.
Four hundred miles of new friends, new thinking, and renewed faith.
Four hundred miles leading me to JOY.

“Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.”
–Jeremiah 6:16 (NIV)

Day 17 – Spirit Meter: 10! in Santo Domingo

Greetings from Santo Domingo de la Calzada! Saint Dominic was a true friend to medieval pilgrims and essentially founded this town in the 12th century.

Tonight we sleep in an alburgue that used to be a monastery. This history on this trip has been interesting, mostly because so much of it is based on the Camino de Santiago. For a pilgrimage that has been integral to the development and sustenance of so many towns, it´s amazing that it isn´t better known.

Anyway, today the Spirit Meter is rocking a solid 9. One point deduction for exhaustion, but my heart and spirit are happy and full and blessed. I feel so much love today, for you, my family and friends and random blog readers… but also for this journey, this adventure, this pilgrimage.

As I mentioned a post or two ago, Ann and I decided it was time to take our training wheels off and really start walking. The last FOUR DAYS alone we have walked 52 miles!!

The first two days of longer walking were tough, and at the end of the second day (in Viana, where I wrote about contentment), I decided to give the Camino one more day to see what would happen on the third day of long walking. And wouldn´t you know, it was the best day yet?

That day we walked to Navarrete, and as we approached the city, after 13 miles, I felt light as a feather. My feet still ached in pain, but my heart and spirit were so light and happy, it just didn’t matter. It was AMAZING. I even JOGGED a few hundred yards at the end of the day, but once I realized what I was doing I stopped immediately. (No sense in going overboard, ya know.)

I don’t know what shifted in me, but since that day, things have been better. Now, 13 miles seems like a normal day´s work. Today, we only walked 9.5 miles, and it felt like cheating. It’s funny how quickly my perception has changed on that front.

While walking, I’ve been spending most of my time praying for the people in my life, and also contemplating the lesson in contentment that I received the other night. I’ve also been praying that I become a better steward of God´s love while I am walking the Camino. I want so much for this pilgrimage to bless and glorify God more than anything else…

You know, just now I realized the connection. The day I started focusing more on making this journey about God is the day things started to become easier for me. As long as my focus remains on him, my spirit is centered and that energizes me. How awesome is that?

Man, I’m just feeling so THANKFUL right now. So Thankful. I have such amazing people in my life… I LOVE reading all of your emails and messages and blog comments. I love it. I love that you are on this journey with me. I truly believe that is one reason why this journey is so meaningful for me — because so many people are walking it spiritually right along with me. And I am so thankful for that. So, thanks for reading along and supporting me.

Wow this is a super cheesy post, but that´s just the way it goes. I feel like I´m beaming love right now. OH! I think the Spirit Meter just hit 10!! YES! Can you feel the love?

Okay, moving on, I thought I would give you an overview of the typical daily schedule:

We usually wake up between 6.30 and 7.00, or whenever everyone else in the room starts waking up and packing up their bags.

We have to repack our bags every day because we´re using everything it every day. It´s kind of pain, but once you realize that´s just part of getting ready in the morning, you deal with it.

Most alburgues usually ask you to leave by 8.00. And, fortunately for this night-blind gal that is about when it becomes just light enough for me to start walking. Also, we´ll usually eat a bite of breakfast before leaving.

So we start walking about 8 or 8.30 and will walk for 2 or 3 hous and then stop for a break and bite to eat. Then we walk some more.

Depending on the distance we want to walk, our pace, the weather, and the type of surface we´re walking on, we´ll usually arrive at our next destination sometime between 1.00 and 4.00 in the afternoon.

When we arrive at an alburgue you have to show your pilgrim´s passport, which gets stamped. Then they show you to your room and at that point Ann and I will usually go horizontal as fast as we can to get off our feet.

We´ll rest for about a half hour and then shower, do laundry, and then head out into whatever town we´re in to find groceries for the next day. Then we´ll head back to the alburgue, rest a little more, check the internet, and then figure out what´s for dinner. Dinner is usually at 7.

By 8.30 we are usually back in the dorm, organzing our gear, figuring out the route for tomorrow and getting ready for bed.

Most nights, most pilgrims are in bed and lights are out between 9.30 and 10.00. 10 is usually the latest anyone stays up. We´re too tired to do anything else.

So, that´s the schedule. More next time on waymarking (or how we know where to walk), and the food we´re eating. (And anything else you want to know about.)

Time for me to meet up with some other peregrinos (pilgrims) for cena (dinner). Much love to all of you!

Busy day on the Camino

Camino Blog – Input Requested

Okay, to bring everyone up to speed, I thought I would summarize what’s going on:

1. I quit my job to pursue my travel itch.
2. After a 5-day camping trip to Sleeping Bear Dunes, and a 12-day tour of D.C., State College, PA, and Pittsburgh, PA, I am now gearing up for a 500-mile walk across Spain known as el Camino de Santiago.
3. I leave for Spain two weeks from today! Woohoo!
4. I am walking with a friend named Ann, who has an independent and adventurous spirit, and just the right amount of sass.

As we walk across Spain, my goal is to keep a travel journal. Every night, I hope to write down how many miles we walked, what the terrain was like, etc. And this is where I need your help, Blog Reader Friend Person. I am wondering what kinds of things you would like me to note on a daily basis?

To give you an idea of what I’m talking about, following is the kind of entry I envision writing once I’m on the Camino (using my training walk this morning as an example):

Date: Sunday, August 24, 2008
Starting Point: Home
Ending Point: Home
Miles Walked: 6.1 miles (training pack weight: about 20 lbs.)
Walking Time: 2 hours (including brief banana break)
Terrain Type: gravel and pavement; level surface
Terrain Difficulty: Easy
Visual Difficulty: Easy (no trekking poles or cane required)
Weather: sunny, warm, beautiful blue sky (not a cloud in sight)

I’ll also include general thoughts and share any highlights from the day, but right now I’m wondering if there are specific “fun facts” that you would be interested in me tracking as I walk across Spain.

Do you want to know the things listed above: weather, terrain type, or “visual difficulty” for someone with Retinitis Pigmentosa?

Part of me is tempted to include a “Spirit Meter” to indicate where my spirits are that day. (Anything involving spirit sticks, spirit fingers, etc. amuses me greatly.)

Should I keep track of how many bananas I eat? Or what I eat in general? Spanish words I pick up? The number of blisters I get?

Let your imaginations roam wild (obviously mine is stuck on the mundane) and post a comment below. I look forward to reading your responses!

Ridiculous Bliss

What a wonderful trip! I felt like I was on vacation, spending that time with my fabulous family and friends. Can one be “on vacation” and “voluntarily unemployed” simultaneously? Or is that just redundant?

Regardless, my “vacation” was wonderful. Simply wonderful.

There were a lot of highlights on the trip, but one of the best moments happened yesterday, when I was having lunch with an old friend. After we swapped stories and caught up on the basics of each other’s life, my friend asked me “how was I really doing?”

Honestly and truthfully, I told him that I am doing great. I told him how happy I am. How ridiculously, blissfully happy I am right now,

I’m happy and healthy.
My loved ones are, for the most part, happy and healthy.
And I’m completely geeked about my future–the pilgrimage and then whatever else happens after that.

As I was sharing all this with my friend, I suddenly realized: I am SO EXCITED that I get to live this life! My life!

How awesome is that?!

I feel completely happy in who I am, in what I am doing with my life, and absolutely thrilled that I get to keep living it!

This from a woman who once raged against God because she was losing her vision?

This from a woman who recently was so depressed that she about ate her weight in cookie dough while sitting on the couch watching Hallmark movies?

I guess it just goes to show that anything is possible.

Anything is possible, and never lose hope.

Triumph at Shingletown Gap

Earlier this week, my friend and I tried to hike to the lookout at Mt. Nittany. Due to various “circumstances” we missed the lookout and instead ended up hiking much longer than previously anticipated.  But we won’t go into those details here…

Anyway, today we thought we would try again with a different mountain, so we headed to Shingleton Gap.  It was a steep and rocky climb, but we totally triumphed over that thing.  If you’re ever in State College, PA I would definitely recommend this trail.  (I think it would be especially nice in autumn).

My low vision makes hiking on uneven and rocky trails even more difficult, but trekking poles really help. Well, trekking poles and really patient friends who are okay with going slowly and pointing out low branches and unstable rocks and other things I might miss.  A big thanks to Tamara and Richard for helping me today!

The hiking this week has been great in helping me train for the Camino.  I realized today that I leave in 23 days.  23 Days!  That’s like 3 weeks! (I know, my math skillz are amazing.)  Interestingly though, my focus hasn’t completely shifted to Spain yet.  I still have a few more days in PA before heading back home and I continue to enjoy this time with friends and family.  Perhaps when I arrive home Camino preparation will move to the top of my priority list?  

Until then, thanks for all the blog love and support.  I’m glad you all are enjoying it.  My next update probably won’t be for a few days, so I’ll end this wishing you all a great weekend!

Today’s Lesson: Cane Usage

Last week, when I was in Washington, D.C., I used my cane to help me get around. I knew the places we planned to visit were going to be crowded, dimly lit, and strewn with hazards like kids who strayed from their parents, Wet Floor signs, or steps that aren’t marked. (Just a few examples of things that make it difficult for me to get around because of my low vision.)

I do not use my cane on a daily basis because most of the time I am just tooling around town, going to places that I am familiar with, or doing things with people who will lend me an arm if I need help. Plus, I admit, I’m still getting used to the “stigma” that comes with using the cane.

I think it’s only natural that when people see someone using a cane, they automatically assume that person can’t see anything. Heck, I do it myself and I know better! What most people don’t know is that less than 10% of visually impaired people cannot see anything (according to my Orientation & Mobility trainer). Put another way, the majority of visually impaired people out there can still see something–perhaps they might be able to distinguish between light and dark, or make out shapes, etc. Basically, it’s rare when a visually impaired person sees only blackness.

I happen to have very good central vision still, so I can see almost everything happening in front of me (while it’s light out). So, using the cane is an interesting experience because I can see people’s reactions. Mostly, I see the staring. And really, that’s cool. I’m okay with it…now.

At first, I’ll be honest, it freaked me out. (Still does, sometimes.) But I understand now that people are just processing what they are seeing. I do the same thing when I see someone with a cane. I watch what they do and how they do it. Although, mostly I do it to see how they handle their cane, and if I can learn anything.

Which brings me to today’s lesson: Cane Usage. I thought it might be helpful for people to know that there are three ways to use a cane, and that you can get a feel for how much vision the user has based on the way they carry the cane.

We’ll call the first method “Straight Stick.” This is the method I use most frequently. It involves holding the cane in front of you at a 45-degree angle. The tip is held about an inch or two above the ground. Mostly, it’s a way of saying to the world, “You might want to step aside, because I may or may not see you.” If you see someone holding a cane this way, you can assume (to a degree) that the user still has some visual acuity.

The second method is called “Sweeping.” This method involves sweeping the cane from side to side, keeping constant contact with the ground. The tip of the cane will usually have a ball or teardrop shape on it, as opposed to a flat tip. I’ll use “sweeping” on smooth ground surfaces when I’m busy looking up and around at other things and let my cane tell me if there’s anything on the ground I need to worry about. For example, I’ll use the “sweeping” method in an airport when I know there won’t be any steps I have to worry about and need to use my vision to find my gate.

The third method is “Tapping.” The user will tap the cane left, center, then right. The tip of the cane will be flat. Users who use tapping have very little vision. My cane trainer taught me only the basics of tapping because it will be a while before I actually need it.

So that’s your cane lesson for today. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you have any questions.

Oh… one last thing… check out this article written by Joel M. Deutsch. It is called “Red Sea” and it is about his experience of first using a cane.