Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Speechless
When I first decided to do this blog I thought it would be not only a tool for me to express what is going through my mind, but to share with family and friends what I am trying to do to overcome this obstacle or road block. I wanted them to see my progress and the crossing off of my list of things to do and see. I was afraid that I was not going to be able to do much on my list because of money, my job and what my future holds. I haven't put too much thought into it because of those reasons. But something happened that made me speechless. I never thought that it would bring out people willing to help, plan and offer to pay for some of the things on my list! My best friend, Rachel, aunt loves to travel and that is what she does now since she is retired. She had connections in Alaska for a free boat trip and dinner for two, she wants to help with taking me to Alaska and so much more! She is full of secrete weapons called connections, ha ha. Thank you Anita for helping make this list really happen!!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Check Off Number One!
On December 31st I was able to accomplish one thing off my list, Seahawks game!! I went with my good friends Mandy and Kevin. They made the experience a great one that I will always remember. Being at a game and feeling the impact and emotion of all the fans was incredible. People had told me that it was crazy how the fans got but I didn't realize what they meant until I was there myself. I would just close my eyes and I could feel the energy all around me, the vibration from the yelling and stomping of many fans. It didn't matter to me that it was freezing out, I still had a smile on my face because of what I was surround by had an effect on what I was feeling, excitement. Mandy and Kevin, thank you for going with me and making that day happen!
Vision List- Rough Draft
Here is my list so far! I'm sure I will continue to add more when I think of them. Some of them you might think, why can't you do when you are blind? My answer to that is, I want to know what it looks like so if I do go back I can have that picture in my mind and visualize where I'm standing from what I remember. I want to take that memory and use my other senses to get a better feel of where I am.
1. Sky Diving
2. Zip Line, not sure where though
3. Hot Air Balloon Ride
4. Easter Island
5. Grand Canyon
6. San Fransisco, Golden Gate Bridge
7. Disney World/University Studios
8. Cabelas Store
9. Visit All States or Visit Each Continent
10. Riding/Camping at Sand Dunes
11. Ocean Shores
12. Quad Riding
13. Shooting Once More
14. Leavenworth
15. Date Night at Drive in Movie
16. Volunteer in Another Country like I did in China
17. Motor Cross
18. Take a Dirt Road up the Mountain to see the Sunset and See the View of PA/Sequim
19. Take Train to Whitefish, Montana/Ski
20. Broadway Show
21.Seahawks Game
22. Greece or Australia
23. Horseback Riding
24.Drive a Truck
25. Alaska
26. Niagara Falls
27. Nashville
28. Visit My Host Family in NC with Ashley Sofie
29. National Parks, Still Figuring Out Which Ones
30. Miniature Golf
31. Go Kart Riding
32. Paint Balling
33.Nerf Gun War with a group of friends :)
1. Sky Diving
2. Zip Line, not sure where though
3. Hot Air Balloon Ride
4. Easter Island
5. Grand Canyon
6. San Fransisco, Golden Gate Bridge
7. Disney World/University Studios
8. Cabelas Store
9. Visit All States or Visit Each Continent
10. Riding/Camping at Sand Dunes
11. Ocean Shores
12. Quad Riding
13. Shooting Once More
14. Leavenworth
15. Date Night at Drive in Movie
16. Volunteer in Another Country like I did in China
17. Motor Cross
18. Take a Dirt Road up the Mountain to see the Sunset and See the View of PA/Sequim
19. Take Train to Whitefish, Montana/Ski
20. Broadway Show
21.
22. Greece or Australia
23. Horseback Riding
24.
25. Alaska
26. Niagara Falls
27. Nashville
28. Visit My Host Family in NC with Ashley Sofie
29. National Parks, Still Figuring Out Which Ones
30. Miniature Golf
31. Go Kart Riding
32. Paint Balling
33.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Seeing What's Ahead
Seeing what's ahead?
Monday, May 16, 2005 By AMY McFALL PRINCE, Columbian staff writer
Vancouver's Seventh Street Transit Center stinks of exhaust on a muggy afternoon. The low rumble of idling buses is nearly drowned out by the beat of the bus doors gliding open, the boisterous conversation of three friends killing time and an unsuspecting person landing a foot on a nearby street grate to make a perfect ping.
Audrey Chard waits quietly, hoping not to stick out too much in this street-smart crowd.
She spots the No. 6 bus and hops on board. She flashes her pass and takes a double seat close to the front. Her backpack falls onto the seat next to her, ensuring an ounce of privacy on the crowded bus.
Chard, 19, hates the long, bumpy ride that takes her past African grocery stores, well-worn buildings and buzzing barbershops along Portland's Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. The ride is worth enduring, though. It's taking her to the first athletic outlet she has enjoyed in more than a year.
The sound of bad news In August 2003, Chard was at the top of her game. After being born with profound hearing loss, most of her hearing was restored with the help of hearing aids when she was 2. Growing up in Port Angeles, the tow-headed girl was always a few steps behind her classmates. Her speech and language skills were delayed. Although her speech sharpened and she learned to read lips, it seemed impossible to escape the taunts. As a teen, the softball diamond seemed to be the one place where she shined. She didn't need to hear well. She had strength and talent, and her left-handed pitching made her a standout. Her team traveled to Kentucky that summer to play in a fast-pitch world series tournament. It was there she first noticed a new problem. "I couldn't find the ball if I fumbled it," she recalls. "I just couldn't find it." Seven months later, Chard sat in a dark doctor's office. This was one time she wished she couldn't hear. Chard had Usher syndrome, a rare condition marked with progressive vision and hearing loss. "I'd been told years and years and years ago that sometimes blindness comes with deafness, but that was way back there in the cobwebs of my brain," said LaRae Chard, Audrey's mother. Over a number of years, Audrey Chard's vision had slowly narrowed. So slowly, in fact, she didn't really notice that the ground below her, the sky above her and the people beside her were disappearing. Eventually, she will go blind and possibly deaf. There is no treatment. It is estimated that 3 percent to 6 percent of all deaf children have the genetic condition. The syndrome causes retinitis pigmentosa, a disease that affects sensory cells in the retina, starting with those that control night vision. Slowly, the degeneration creeps into the cells controlling peripheral vision, and then eventually those that provide sharp, colorful detail. "I thought being hearing impaired was hard enough," she said. "Losing my vision was shocking. It's hard to think about not seeing the pretty ocean." All Chard could think of was her red Volkswagen Cabriolet, which she'd bought only two months earlier. Although she'd been driving before the diagnosis, the doctor advised her to stop. She wept at the loss of independence.
A time of transition
The diagnosis came in March 2004, three months before high school graduation. She had plans to attend a local community college and maybe play softball. Then came the news. "Just getting ready to graduate from high school, you have all these plans and then her world got turned upside down," said her father, Darrel. "She thought she wasn't going to be able to leave home." "Our first impulse was 'Let's sell the house and travel the world before she goes blind,' " her mother recalls. "We became more rational about it." In September, as many of her friends headed to college, Chard packed her things and moved to Vancouver. Her new home would be a dorm room at Washington State School for the Blind. She enrolled in a new program at the school called LIFTT, which stands for Learning Independence For Today and Tomorrow. She also enrolled in a few courses at Clark College. Lori Pulliam, who coordinates the LIFTT program, has worked with vision-impaired students for more than 20 years. She's seen the struggle. "It's like falling into a pit," Pulliam said. "They have to totally adjust to a whole new way of people dealing with them."
Moving away from home was a jolt for Chard.
But she watched as other students at the school, many with far less vision, walked around campus comfortably, guided by canes and strong senses of touch, smell and sound. For the first time in months, she began to feel less isolated. "They helped me realize that I'm not alone," Chard said. "I'm proud of myself. "The hardest part for me is not knowing when it's going to happen, going blind."
Turning a corner Chard is preparing for that day and gaining confidence. She is learning to read the raised cells of Braille. She is testing canes, getting a feel for which type she would like to use. And she has started learning a computer system that uses audio to read text to the visually impaired. Initially, she planned to move back home in June, but a couple of months ago she moved into her own apartment. Last weekend, she moved again, this time to live with her sister in Portland. It will help keep costs down, and she will continue to attend the School for the Blind and Clark College, where she plans to get her associate's degree. Later, she plans to study occupational therapy. "She is handling a major issue with a lot more grace than a lot of people would," Pulliam said. Chard wants to travel to Europe, coach a girls' softball team, finish college and go on dates. Some of her softball friends have already offered to size up the cute men for her should she need the help. She laughs. "I tell them at that point it won't matter what they look like." "Every day I think of things I want to do," she said. "I still want a white Toyota pickup. I'd just drive it on the back roads with a big sign saying 'Blind driver: Get out of my way.' " In January, she returned to Port Angeles for a reunion of her softball team. She had called the young women together, asking that for one last time they play with her. She played in the outfield and missed the one ball that came her way, but it didn't matter. "She just wanted to play one more game," her father said. Now she's turned her game to the water. The young woman who grew up on the Strait of Juan de Fuca has found a renewed drive for teamwork and strength in the dragon boat team Blind Ambition. The group will compete in Portland's Rose Festival. Afterward, she will have a chance to travel with the team to compete in other races. "It's helped her turn a corner because it's something she enjoys," her dad said. Her mom agrees. "The dragon boat is the reason she decided to stay." Audrey Chard's strong arms have taken to the rowing. Through the sweat, the hard work and her own ambition, she can finally see where she's going next.
This is waiting for the bus after dragon boat practice at night in the rain to go home.
I was considered our "power paddler", which meant I sat in the front to give us our strong start power to get our boat out of the water on starting line.
I did not even pose for this shot! The photographer actually caught me in a frustrated moment.
Working with my school counselor in the disability department at Clark College.
When I was going to the Blind School in Vancouver, WA the newspaper did an article on me. It was during the first year of me taking on the news of going blind. The actual article had huge pictures that were taken of me during a day of them following in my foot steps of how I spent my day. I attached them to this so you can so and you will be able to put together where they fall into the story. Things defiantly changed since that article was written. The dragon boat team was the first sport that I started after having to quit softball. It was a great experience and I miss it still. Being apart of a team that consisted of 70-80% people with vision impairment put things into perspective for me. It showed that there are different levels of vision loss and they all go through the struggles of the grieving, denial and acceptance. I also met people that were fighting for their rights and showing that they are able to do a job just as well as a sighted person. I learned a lot, and I will still continue to learn. Dragon boating was what kept me there, but then I became lost. I became detached and I didn't know how to keep on top of things and not let the depression bring me down. I felt alone because I didn't have any set friends that I hungout with, only those I saw at practice or volunteered with at the blind school. I decided that it was time for me to move home where I had support from my parents to lean on and some friends from home. Was it the right move, some days I say yes and some days I wonder what would have been different if I just pushed through it.
Monday, May 16, 2005 By AMY McFALL PRINCE, Columbian staff writer
The sound of bad news In August 2003, Chard was at the top of her game. After being born with profound hearing loss, most of her hearing was restored with the help of hearing aids when she was 2. Growing up in Port Angeles, the tow-headed girl was always a few steps behind her classmates. Her speech and language skills were delayed. Although her speech sharpened and she learned to read lips, it seemed impossible to escape the taunts. As a teen, the softball diamond seemed to be the one place where she shined. She didn't need to hear well. She had strength and talent, and her left-handed pitching made her a standout. Her team traveled to Kentucky that summer to play in a fast-pitch world series tournament. It was there she first noticed a new problem. "I couldn't find the ball if I fumbled it," she recalls. "I just couldn't find it." Seven months later, Chard sat in a dark doctor's office. This was one time she wished she couldn't hear. Chard had Usher syndrome, a rare condition marked with progressive vision and hearing loss. "I'd been told years and years and years ago that sometimes blindness comes with deafness, but that was way back there in the cobwebs of my brain," said LaRae Chard, Audrey's mother. Over a number of years, Audrey Chard's vision had slowly narrowed. So slowly, in fact, she didn't really notice that the ground below her, the sky above her and the people beside her were disappearing. Eventually, she will go blind and possibly deaf. There is no treatment. It is estimated that 3 percent to 6 percent of all deaf children have the genetic condition. The syndrome causes retinitis pigmentosa, a disease that affects sensory cells in the retina, starting with those that control night vision. Slowly, the degeneration creeps into the cells controlling peripheral vision, and then eventually those that provide sharp, colorful detail. "I thought being hearing impaired was hard enough," she said. "Losing my vision was shocking. It's hard to think about not seeing the pretty ocean." All Chard could think of was her red Volkswagen Cabriolet, which she'd bought only two months earlier. Although she'd been driving before the diagnosis, the doctor advised her to stop. She wept at the loss of independence.
A time of transition
The diagnosis came in March 2004, three months before high school graduation. She had plans to attend a local community college and maybe play softball. Then came the news. "Just getting ready to graduate from high school, you have all these plans and then her world got turned upside down," said her father, Darrel. "She thought she wasn't going to be able to leave home." "Our first impulse was 'Let's sell the house and travel the world before she goes blind,' " her mother recalls. "We became more rational about it." In September, as many of her friends headed to college, Chard packed her things and moved to Vancouver. Her new home would be a dorm room at Washington State School for the Blind. She enrolled in a new program at the school called LIFTT, which stands for Learning Independence For Today and Tomorrow. She also enrolled in a few courses at Clark College. Lori Pulliam, who coordinates the LIFTT program, has worked with vision-impaired students for more than 20 years. She's seen the struggle. "It's like falling into a pit," Pulliam said. "They have to totally adjust to a whole new way of people dealing with them."
Moving away from home was a jolt for Chard.
But she watched as other students at the school, many with far less vision, walked around campus comfortably, guided by canes and strong senses of touch, smell and sound. For the first time in months, she began to feel less isolated. "They helped me realize that I'm not alone," Chard said. "I'm proud of myself. "The hardest part for me is not knowing when it's going to happen, going blind."
Turning a corner Chard is preparing for that day and gaining confidence. She is learning to read the raised cells of Braille. She is testing canes, getting a feel for which type she would like to use. And she has started learning a computer system that uses audio to read text to the visually impaired. Initially, she planned to move back home in June, but a couple of months ago she moved into her own apartment. Last weekend, she moved again, this time to live with her sister in Portland. It will help keep costs down, and she will continue to attend the School for the Blind and Clark College, where she plans to get her associate's degree. Later, she plans to study occupational therapy. "She is handling a major issue with a lot more grace than a lot of people would," Pulliam said. Chard wants to travel to Europe, coach a girls' softball team, finish college and go on dates. Some of her softball friends have already offered to size up the cute men for her should she need the help. She laughs. "I tell them at that point it won't matter what they look like." "Every day I think of things I want to do," she said. "I still want a white Toyota pickup. I'd just drive it on the back roads with a big sign saying 'Blind driver: Get out of my way.' " In January, she returned to Port Angeles for a reunion of her softball team. She had called the young women together, asking that for one last time they play with her. She played in the outfield and missed the one ball that came her way, but it didn't matter. "She just wanted to play one more game," her father said. Now she's turned her game to the water. The young woman who grew up on the Strait of Juan de Fuca has found a renewed drive for teamwork and strength in the dragon boat team Blind Ambition. The group will compete in Portland's Rose Festival. Afterward, she will have a chance to travel with the team to compete in other races. "It's helped her turn a corner because it's something she enjoys," her dad said. Her mom agrees. "The dragon boat is the reason she decided to stay." Audrey Chard's strong arms have taken to the rowing. Through the sweat, the hard work and her own ambition, she can finally see where she's going next.
This is waiting for the bus after dragon boat practice at night in the rain to go home.
I was considered our "power paddler", which meant I sat in the front to give us our strong start power to get our boat out of the water on starting line.
I did not even pose for this shot! The photographer actually caught me in a frustrated moment.
Working with my school counselor in the disability department at Clark College.When I was going to the Blind School in Vancouver, WA the newspaper did an article on me. It was during the first year of me taking on the news of going blind. The actual article had huge pictures that were taken of me during a day of them following in my foot steps of how I spent my day. I attached them to this so you can so and you will be able to put together where they fall into the story. Things defiantly changed since that article was written. The dragon boat team was the first sport that I started after having to quit softball. It was a great experience and I miss it still. Being apart of a team that consisted of 70-80% people with vision impairment put things into perspective for me. It showed that there are different levels of vision loss and they all go through the struggles of the grieving, denial and acceptance. I also met people that were fighting for their rights and showing that they are able to do a job just as well as a sighted person. I learned a lot, and I will still continue to learn. Dragon boating was what kept me there, but then I became lost. I became detached and I didn't know how to keep on top of things and not let the depression bring me down. I felt alone because I didn't have any set friends that I hungout with, only those I saw at practice or volunteered with at the blind school. I decided that it was time for me to move home where I had support from my parents to lean on and some friends from home. Was it the right move, some days I say yes and some days I wonder what would have been different if I just pushed through it.
Losing Independence, Gaining Independence
Below, is a story I wrote about when I first found out that I had Ushers. My story was chosen for a site for people with disabilities to read and hopefully get inspiration or help by reading. I wrote this to hopefully help others by sharing what I went through. I did win $100, because I was one of the top ten, I think if I remember correctly, to be chosen.
Losing Independence/Gaining Independence
Sitting in a dark, cold office waiting for the doctor to come in to tell me either good or bad news, I just stare at the floor waiting and waiting. The door opens and I freeze, not knowing what to think or what to say. The doctor’s words float around me as I try not to hear her. I believe her words were, “Audrey we have some bad news, you have Usher Syndrome and you are going blind. We recommend that you not drive anymore.” Not drive anymore! I couldn’t and wouldn’t believe what I just heard. Driving gave me independence and the ability to get around without relying on others. I said to myself, “What did I do for God to be mad at me?” I was born deaf, isn’t that enough? I walked around with a blank stare and sometimes broke down crying. I felt like I hit a rock wall. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. It took me 18 years to gather strength and accept the fact that I was deaf and to stick up for myself when people made fun of me. Now, I had something else I would have to overcome and accept. This wasn’t going to be easy- anyway, that’s what I thought. The diagnosis was made a few weeks before my graduation from high school. So much going on and I couldn’t drive anymore. To top it all off, I bought myself a car two months beforehand. What hurt the most was when my friends could drive and would stay out late, but I would have to go home early because I didn’t have a ride home. We lived 10 miles out of town and my friends never wanted to drive me home. But the time that really got me crying was when I told my mother to pick me up, and even though I had reminded her many times, she forgot to…I stood there waiting. It made me fill up with anger but it wasn’t her fault. When my parents sold my car, I cried for hours, not because we sold the car but because of all the independence I gained and lost so quickly. I lost my ability to play softball, which was my life. I played on three teams and almost all year around. I made most of my friends through the teams I played for. I lead a talented team to the World Series twice with my pitching. I had confidence and motivation in myself when I was playing. When I had to quit playing softball, I also quit being active. I lost all my confidence. I lose the sense of what fun was, because I didn’t want to do anything anymore. I was in denial of what was happening to me. I was frustrated and trying to come to an understanding of why this was happening. I lived in a small town and I felt that I was the only person in the world that was deaf and going blind. What more could happen I asked...? My mother wanted me to join a program called LIFTT (Learning Independence for Today and Tomorrow) at the WA State School for the Blind to learn Braille and mobility. I was numb and didn’t care; all I wanted to do was stay home. But in September 2004, I moved all my stuff to Vancouver, WA. It was my first time living away from home. Fresh out of high school and just found out I was going blind, I didn’t know if I would have the confidence and strength to do it. Days went by…and all I wanted was my old life back again and to move back home. When I got to the program I met a young boy, Nicholas, who was in the program and now my close friend. I learned from him that God didn’t hate us; God knew that we had the strength to handle and overcome our disabilities like no one else would have. His statement about God made me think. Ever since then I realized that I could do it but not without the help I received through the program and from the students at the blind school. I came there thinking I was the only one that was blind and deaf but quickly I found I wasn’t. Talking to the other children or learning from people what their experiences has been like and how they felt made me feel better. I started to open up again. I started gaining my confidence back. I entered a new world, a new culture in the program. The program and the people involved taught me so much. I quickly learned how to live on my own, how to get around on the buses, how to budget and manage money, how to read and type Braille and how to use a cane. Four months into the program I was ready for a new challenge and experience: living on my own. This was a big step for me and before I came to the program I couldn’t see myself living away from my parents and actually surviving. I didn’t have the confidence before like I did now. Now I was ready. In February, I found a place to live in that wasn’t far from the blind school so I could walk and go to my Braille class. At first it was hard, because I had a lot of responsibilities like bills and how to pay them. What I do know is that I wouldn’t have been able to do it without support from my family and people that I’d met at the blind school- such as the supervisor of the LIFTT program, my Braille teacher, Nicholas, students at the school, and some staff at the school. Just knowing that I wasn’t the only one out there and knowing that blind people can do whatever they want as long as they put their mind and heart to it, I discovered that I can be a successful blind-deaf women. I also learned that you shouldn’t take everything for granted. Just because you can’t drive doesn’t mean you don’t have independence. Yeah, it was nice, but it was a different kind of freedom. Now I have a new life that I’m starting to get the hang of and enjoy. Everyday I sit down and smile to myself and say, “Wow, I’m doing it and I am not afraid to try at anything.”
Losing Independence/Gaining Independence
Sitting in a dark, cold office waiting for the doctor to come in to tell me either good or bad news, I just stare at the floor waiting and waiting. The door opens and I freeze, not knowing what to think or what to say. The doctor’s words float around me as I try not to hear her. I believe her words were, “Audrey we have some bad news, you have Usher Syndrome and you are going blind. We recommend that you not drive anymore.” Not drive anymore! I couldn’t and wouldn’t believe what I just heard. Driving gave me independence and the ability to get around without relying on others. I said to myself, “What did I do for God to be mad at me?” I was born deaf, isn’t that enough? I walked around with a blank stare and sometimes broke down crying. I felt like I hit a rock wall. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. It took me 18 years to gather strength and accept the fact that I was deaf and to stick up for myself when people made fun of me. Now, I had something else I would have to overcome and accept. This wasn’t going to be easy- anyway, that’s what I thought. The diagnosis was made a few weeks before my graduation from high school. So much going on and I couldn’t drive anymore. To top it all off, I bought myself a car two months beforehand. What hurt the most was when my friends could drive and would stay out late, but I would have to go home early because I didn’t have a ride home. We lived 10 miles out of town and my friends never wanted to drive me home. But the time that really got me crying was when I told my mother to pick me up, and even though I had reminded her many times, she forgot to…I stood there waiting. It made me fill up with anger but it wasn’t her fault. When my parents sold my car, I cried for hours, not because we sold the car but because of all the independence I gained and lost so quickly. I lost my ability to play softball, which was my life. I played on three teams and almost all year around. I made most of my friends through the teams I played for. I lead a talented team to the World Series twice with my pitching. I had confidence and motivation in myself when I was playing. When I had to quit playing softball, I also quit being active. I lost all my confidence. I lose the sense of what fun was, because I didn’t want to do anything anymore. I was in denial of what was happening to me. I was frustrated and trying to come to an understanding of why this was happening. I lived in a small town and I felt that I was the only person in the world that was deaf and going blind. What more could happen I asked...? My mother wanted me to join a program called LIFTT (Learning Independence for Today and Tomorrow) at the WA State School for the Blind to learn Braille and mobility. I was numb and didn’t care; all I wanted to do was stay home. But in September 2004, I moved all my stuff to Vancouver, WA. It was my first time living away from home. Fresh out of high school and just found out I was going blind, I didn’t know if I would have the confidence and strength to do it. Days went by…and all I wanted was my old life back again and to move back home. When I got to the program I met a young boy, Nicholas, who was in the program and now my close friend. I learned from him that God didn’t hate us; God knew that we had the strength to handle and overcome our disabilities like no one else would have. His statement about God made me think. Ever since then I realized that I could do it but not without the help I received through the program and from the students at the blind school. I came there thinking I was the only one that was blind and deaf but quickly I found I wasn’t. Talking to the other children or learning from people what their experiences has been like and how they felt made me feel better. I started to open up again. I started gaining my confidence back. I entered a new world, a new culture in the program. The program and the people involved taught me so much. I quickly learned how to live on my own, how to get around on the buses, how to budget and manage money, how to read and type Braille and how to use a cane. Four months into the program I was ready for a new challenge and experience: living on my own. This was a big step for me and before I came to the program I couldn’t see myself living away from my parents and actually surviving. I didn’t have the confidence before like I did now. Now I was ready. In February, I found a place to live in that wasn’t far from the blind school so I could walk and go to my Braille class. At first it was hard, because I had a lot of responsibilities like bills and how to pay them. What I do know is that I wouldn’t have been able to do it without support from my family and people that I’d met at the blind school- such as the supervisor of the LIFTT program, my Braille teacher, Nicholas, students at the school, and some staff at the school. Just knowing that I wasn’t the only one out there and knowing that blind people can do whatever they want as long as they put their mind and heart to it, I discovered that I can be a successful blind-deaf women. I also learned that you shouldn’t take everything for granted. Just because you can’t drive doesn’t mean you don’t have independence. Yeah, it was nice, but it was a different kind of freedom. Now I have a new life that I’m starting to get the hang of and enjoy. Everyday I sit down and smile to myself and say, “Wow, I’m doing it and I am not afraid to try at anything.”
Helen Keller Quotes
I wanted to share some quotes said by Helen Keller, a women that showed great strength through her life with being deaf and blind.
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart”
“Change: A bend in the road is not the end of the road…Unless you fail to make the turn."
“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”
The Start of Something New
Today is my first post on my blog. I'm still trying to figure out how I want to do this for everyone to read, I don't want it to scare people or make them worry. I just want to show what it is like to be in my shoes to maybe help answer those questions that are going through your mind. What is it that I see? Does the weather make a difference? Those are just two out of many questions that I have heard. It is not easy for me to open up so I am hoping that this is a way for myself to express so I don't bottle thing up. I will be posting old newspaper articles and paper I wrote for a magazine for people with disabilities, once I find them :). Don't be afraid to ask my questions if you have any! It might help me with one of my blogs.
Another reason for my blog is for people to be able to follow my list that I'm creating. I am calling it my Vision Bucket List, which is kind of like a bucket list. It will be of things that I want to see, do or experience before I have no vision. It goes from simple little things that will create a special moment for me to extreme experiences like sky diving. The list is a rough draft and will always be changing. I will post every time I cross one off and post pictures to show that I did accomplish it. It will be awhile before I can start since I have to get my back better and save money of course, ha ha. So keep checking back!
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