What Is It Like to Go Blind?

I apologize for being away from this blog for so long. As you may already know, I was born with a vision impairment. After many years and many eye surgeries, the worst of it finally caught up with me.

At the end of June 2020, I underwent an eye operation to have a plastic cornea installed. The human eye is very delicate. It can only take just so much poking and prodding. The end result of that surgery was a detached retina.

A surgeon was eventually able to reattach my retina. I have been recovering from that process of reattachment for what amounts to 22 months.

The short version of my present situation is that I have very little vision. It's probably not much more than three to five percent of what I used to have. I don't blame anybody for what has happened. I'm not angry about this. It was always a possibility. Ask any gambler and they will tell you that, no matter who you are, you can only beat the odds for just so long.This could have happened to me ten years ago or ten years in the future from today. I accept it for what it is and I am trying to move on.

The simple truth is that it took me about a year and a half to recover my sanity. Take what you see in the movies with a grain of salt. The human mind is tremendously shocked when you actually do experience catastrophic loss of sight. As much as you might expect it, no amount of preparation can ever make you ready for the real thing. 

After some thought, I decided that it was a good idea to say something about what happened to me here in this blog. I am dictating the words you are now reading. My wife is typing this post. That's where I am in the process. Over the next few years, I hope to retrain with assistive technologies so that I can get back to full-time writing.

Nobody knows for sure if they can handle something like this until it happens to them. As sympathetic as you might be to family and friends, please understand that your kind words may not be as helpful as you would like them to be. 

If you do know somebody who has recently gone blind, please be prepared to give them some space. They're going to need a large amount of time to experience the shock and get over it. 

From my own point of view, it's been a lot like falling off a cliff without ever hitting bottom while, at the same time, going insane. Eventually, the severity of what I felt started to lessen. Eventually, my anxiety was mild enough that I could control it. 

This process is definitely not over for me. There is a form of grief involved in all of this that has to be dealt with on an individual basis. You've got to work your way through it in your own time and in your own way.

Blindness is not the end of the world, though it will force you to start a new chapter in your life that is very different from anything you have ever done before. I hope that observation is useful.

50th Anniversary Apollo 11 Lunar Landing

I have been waiting for my entire adult life for the moment when I would write something like this.  50 years ago today, astronauts Neil Armstrong and "Buzz" Aldrin landed the Apollo 11 mission on surface of the moon.  Astronaut Michael Collins remained aboard the command module "Columbia," in orbit around the moon--while Armstrong and Aldrin made history.  I have no memory of Apollo's launch, the landing is etched in my memory because my parents made such a very big deal about it. 

My version of that memory is affected by time, it's a little fuzzy now.  In those days, my eyesight was very bad.  I had to stand right next to our black-and-white television set to see events as they happen.  It was late at night, nearly midnight where we lived.  Both of my parents were there, my father sat on the floor near me.  In my mind's eye, I can still him in the glow of that picture tube.  None of us knew what we were looking at.  My father said something at the time, he wanted me to understand that this endeavor was not "a done deal" until they landed.

As I write this in July of 2019, Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins are still with us.  Niel Armstrong passed away in 2012.  Everything I am known for today originated during that one moment in 1969, when I saw this historic event unfold.  Tales from the Kodiak Starport is my homage to these men and their lifetime of achievements.  There's a lot more I could say, things I want to say, none of it would survive the sands of time.  In my own way, I observe the moon landing every year, with family and frieds as they are available.  Sometimes, when the media is less interested, I'll go outside and look up the night sky.  I've never been able to see the stars.  Even so, it is a small comfort to me that humans went there.  We could do it again, if we wanted to.

U.S. Senator John S. McCain dies

Early this afternoon, various mainstream media sources reported that U.S. Senator John S. McCain has died from complications due to brain cancer at the age of 81.

My earliest memory of him can be traced back to the hot summer of 1982, when he ran for a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives.  As we saw him on the evening news, McCain was controversial for more than his hotspur opinions.  He'd been a U.S. Navy fighter pilot, flying F-4 phantoms off aircraft carriers--when he was shot down in mid-1967.  North Vietnamese photographers got him on grainy black-and-white film, in which he made what we might think of as a fairly general statement of his existence.  The mere fact that he said anything at all was something of an issue at the time, long before Donald Trump said "I don't like people who have been captured."

He was permanently injured during the process of ejecting from his burning aircraft, later tortured by North Vietnamese interrogators who broke most of the bones in his body.  As I write this paragraph, it is common knowledge that he was not able to raise either of his arms over his head for most of his adult life.  That fact doesn't get much air play because it never slowed him down.  For the most part, he said himself that his disabilities gave him an advantage--because--they reminded him what was important and worth doing.

There's a simple truth in that, I've known it for as long as I remember.  Many times over the years, Senator McCain was asked about his motivations, it seemed quite difficult for some people to believe he was "helped" by what slowed him down.  In the summer of 1987, I worked as an intern in the office of  Senator Ted Stevens.  As I watched McCain on close-circuit TV (CSPAN), I couldn't help noticing how he always seemed to be a little irritated by the same question over-and-over again, as if he was trying to say something the cameras just wouldn't translate.

In simple truth, that which does not kill you really can make you stronger.  At the very least, it's a helluva wakeup call.  Reality check or not, it can be a source of power when you take stock of what you can do--no matter what is going on around you.  What you don't have tells you what you need to get or to actually "do." 

That's worth remembering when something seems to be a bit "much."  Anything worth doing is hard, especially when you dissent.  There will be moments when nobody else sees what is obvious to you, not even when it's the opportunity of a lifetime.  To wrap up, I just want to say that this man was inspirational to me for many reasons, not the least of which was his grasp of the truth about disability and what you can draw from it. 

Jerry Lewis Dies at 91

When I think of comedy, or what's funny--I always think of Jerry Lewis (1926-2017).  As I write this, news outlets around the world are reporting that he has passed away early today, at the age of 91.

Lewis was best known for his comedy, though it did have some serious roles that got my attention. Many of the characters he portrayed were underdogs, the little guy who always had big potential--if only, if only...

As a person who has been misunderstood or unappreciated, those movies and their positive outcomes mattered to me when I was a kid.  Learning to live with a vision impairment that will always-always be with me until the day I am no more,  I found all those little quirky victories to be quite inspiring.  In an era before the label of "nerd" was something you'd be almost glad to wear like a badge, Lewis gave us The Nutty Professor (1963, color, 1 hr. 47 min.).

I saw that film in the early 70's at a local movie theater--and--it wasn't lost on me that his character was wearing the same kind of glasses I had on at the time.  I have never thought of myself as havening something--or someone--better than I really am, tucked away inside me.  Even so, I can recall talking with my parents about the importance of unlocking the potential in all of us.

So, here I am, decades later and I've still got those glasses in a velvet case.  They are tucked away.  Every now and them, I have taken out just to hold those frames in my hand.  All the while, remembering Jerry Lewis and the clever way he made us see the better things in ourselves.

All of us have the power to make our own future, if we can find a way to unlock who and what we really are.  I can only hope for myself to live 91 years, it'll be interesting to see what I was capable of.  Who knows?  I may someday grow up to be a writer.

Make Your Future

"What do you want?"  In my opinion, that's the single most good-and-bad question ever conceived by humans.  It forces us to compromise with our better selves, eve when we are not inclined to be very generous to others.

The hardest thing any one person will ever do is decide what they really want out of life.  Before you can ever do that, you'll have to know: who you are, what you are, and what you're "good" at.

When you get right down to it, I'm a visually impaired 20th Century man, which definable limits.  When you get right down to it,  I am a writer.  That's how my mind works.  I wasn't always "good" enough to say so, but I have gotten better at storytelling and technical writing over time...because I wanted to.  I'm not half bad at organization and planning--but--I'm at my best when I need to put words together.  In the long run, I'm only as good at this as I want to be.  Medical limitations aside, that's what I really want.

Knowing all these things comfortably has allowed me to plot and scheme my way to where I am now, I am the writer I wanted to be.  I do get better at my craft with each new project.  There have been times when my eye problems have slowed me down, but they haven't truly-genuinely stopped me.  Doubt and uncertainty have made me slow down--they still do--any decision to stop or stand still is mine and mine alone.  I do it, or I don't.

Of course, there's more to it than platitudes.  In spite of all the setbacks, you've still got to know what you really want, before you can get it.  Defining what you want means setting goals that allow you to learn what you do not know, get what you do not have, and learn how to use them in useful ways that make sense to you.  We are more than the labels other people use to describe us.  There will be days when nobody agrees with you, they won't "see" what you're trying to do.  Success is always relative, some wins are big and others are quite small.  Every step forward can put you closer to some goal that matters to you.  That's how you make your future.