In my most recent blog post, I touched on the kickass network of patients and advocates I’ve been fortunate enough to tap into in recent years. One of them, Tucker Dupree (hey, buddy!) was kind enough to turn me onto Eone, a company making watches for the blind inspired by the story of Brad Snyder, a world class, visually impaired Paralympic swimmer with a hell of a story. After buying myself a timepiece (thanks again, Tucker!), I ordered Brad’s book, Fire in my Eyes. In the book’s afterword, he talks about a concept he refers to as “the delta,” that is, the delta between how life used to be and how it is now. In his experience, the more he focuses on the gap between the two, the more frustrated he gets.
Brad describes his first experience washing the dishes after going blind.
“I had to very carefully feel my way through several precariously arranged stacks of dirty plates, and then load them into an equally disorganized dishwasher before hand-washing the delicate items. The delicates then needed to be loaded onto a dish rack that may or may not already have contained other glasses, plates, or bowls somewhere on the edge. Much like disabling an IED, one false move during this process would result in an explosion, only this time made of ceramics and glass.
After I screwed up, my mess became a hundred times more difficult to clean, and much more dangerous since little shards of glass were everywhere. Not only were my feet at risk, but what about poor Gizzy (@bradsnyderusa’s dog) who immediately came running into the kitchen to see if I was okay?”
My friends, I feel this. I feel it in my friggin’ bones. The last few weeks, I’ve found myself increasingly frustrated with the delta between the results when I used to sweep floors and the results achieved when I sweep them now. And it’s not like I’m a neat freak. I just sincerely enjoy clean, grime free floors which is difficult when you live in a two pitbull household and your wife moves through life like the Tasmanian Devil. Back to the floors, though. The results look the same to me but I’m told they are less stellar than they once were. When I’m done, my wife, Nina, usually has to retrace my steps with a dustpan in hand.
I didn’t notice this at first. But when I finally realized what was going on, I was understandably disappointed with myself. Through no fault of her own, I felt like I was saddling Nina with the responsibility of cleaning the hardwoods and carpets, something that was traditionally on my chore list, on top of all the other crap she does around the house.
In his book, Brad notes that, “After identifying ‘the delta’, my entire perspective began to change. So what if it now took me a while to order dog food or pay the electric bill by phone? That’s just how it is now, I thought, and there is no sense in comparing it to anything else.”
That’s. Just. How. It. Is. Now. I used to excel at cleaning the floors. I was recently told I was never much of a driver but at least I could get myself from point A to point B in one piece. Things change and you adapt. Now, I have the opportunity to learn new skills (am gratefully accepting pointers) like how to sweep without the aid of my eyesight or how to use accessibility features on my iPhone to call an Uber if I need a ride somewhere.
The delta reminds me of the concept of love versus attachment as described by Ven. Thubten Chodron in her book, Open Heart, Clear Mind. If you really love something (say, the ability to see), and you suddenly find that it’s no longer a part of your life, you learn if you sincerely loved or were seriously attached real quick. Both are fine to a degree but the former will get you much further in life than the latter. While I’m a big fan of seeing (you could say I stan it), whether I retain any of my sight isn’t something I’m able to control so why get worked up over what once was? I’m thankful for all the beautiful things I’ve seen over the years (hi again, Nina) and eager to experience all the smells, sounds, tastes, and touches to come.
#glaucomaniac
richiekahn 