Warning: the following post may contain semi-strange
formatting. And the slightly disjointed nature of the authorâs thoughts may be
jarring to some readers. Proceed with caution.
Copied from my Facebook on Friday, April 8:
I swear, Facebook, I
cannot make this shit up. I was walking to my first class today, and someone
tripped over my cane. I figured that it would probably
be a little bent but
usable, it's definitely happen before. But rather than being a little curved
out of shape, The bottom most fold/link/whatever was
bent almost in half.
I thought about trying to straighten it, and once I put a little bit of
pressure on it. It pretty much snapped.
I went to the
accessibility office after class, using my single usable eyeball and the bit of
feedback that the broken came could give me. I almost tripped
down some stairs
because, though I saw and expected them, there were a bunch of people in the
way and I was trying to get around them. And of course, today
is the day i decide
to wear my boots instead of sneakers so the heel caught on the step... But
luckily for me, most people react quickly to a blind person
stumbling, And my reflexes
aren't terrible so...
Well, I'm off to
class now with my scotch taped cane (they didn't have duct tape).
My thoughts
As you
can tell from the start of the post I was... Iâm still not sure what word best
describes how I felt. I wasnât angry, more confused than anything else. People
trip and hop (yes, hop, not even jump) over my cane quite a bit. And so Iâve
had to replace a few because they were bent out of shape⊠but itâs never been
broken. It was a little surreal, I guess.
I donât
usually curse, and so I knew that using it in my post would really get peopleâs
attention.
Everyone Elseâs
thoughts
It was
interesting, looking at the comments.
The ones from the people who knew me best all made light of
it while the ones from family and acquaintances were all panicking and worried
about my well-being. My fellow blind and visually impaired people sympathized.
One person told me they had four spares by their door and one in their bag at
all times while another told me that sheâd replaced her cane three times so far
this year. Luckily, I did have a spare in my room (though it wouldnât have been
hard to get a new one).
After
telling her the story, my godmother asked if Iâd âcaught a big oneâ. That made
me chuckle. The person was small in stature though Iâm uncertain ofâŠwidth.
Iâm just still surprised that it broke. And now that I think
about it, a little annoyed. Now I have to remember to get another spare. Sigh.
Well:
Sorry I was gone for such a long time. That whole college
thing was rearing itâs head, and rather aggressively, I might add. I had papers
galore. And when I wasnât working, I was sitting and complaining of boredom.
Then Iâd remember my darling readers, but have nothing to write.
But I have been updating my blog (itâs easier to ramble on
camera than write and perfect my posts to my satisfaction).
Check out my original poem, about peopleâs reactions to me. I wrote it a year ago. And when youâre through with that, watch my latest Vlog: What You've Always Wanted To Ask A Blind Person. Itâs long, but hopefully the content makes it worth it.
For my blind and low-vision readers:
The three pictures I included are of me: one of me holding
the cane and then two of the cane by itself: one showing off the tape and the
other how bent it was.
âtill Saturday
Chao (the Spanish spelling)