[il-talk] With articles such as this, it's no wonder people fear and dred blindness.

Jenny Keller jlperdue3 at gmail.com
Wed Aug 1 01:04:32 UTC 2012


Thank you all for the supportive messages.

Jenny
On Jul 31, 2012, at 6:25 PM, Connie Davis wrote:

>  Jenny,
>  I don't think what you said is offensive at all.
> 
> Connie
> 
> 
>  ---- Original message ----
> 
>    Date: Tue, 31 Jul 2012 17:24:54 -0500
>    From: Jenny Keller <jlperdue3 at gmail.com>
>    Subject: Re: [il-talk] With articles such as this,
>    it's no wonder people fear and dred blindness.
>    To: NFB of Illinois Mailing List
>    <il-talk at nfbnet.org>
>> OK, >>I usually don't post much on this list. but
>    have something to say now, and please pardon me if
>    it comes across offensive, cause that's not what
>    it's meant to do.>>My husband is a type one
>    diabetic. As a child, he tried to manage it as
>    best that could be done in the 70's and early
>    80's. >>When his parent's insurance ran out, so
>    did his ability to afford testing supplies and
>    sometimes, insulin. He always tried to have
>    insulin on hand, but he just couldn't afford all
>    that was required for him to test his sugar. >>He
>    worked and made too much for Medicaid to help him,
>    so he was on his own. He worked jobs that paid
>    minimum wage and when you're trying to afford the
>    staples of life, a roof over your head, food,
>    electricity, etc, insulin was all that he could
>    afford to control his brittle diabetes. >>In the
>    90's his kidneys could not hold out and eventually
>    his eyes went too. Because of rejection of a
>    kidney and pancreas transplant, he went back on
>    dialysis for four years and got another kidney,
>    which thank GOD is still going strong.>>The
>    attitude that people with diabetes can always
>    prevent blindness or complications such as kidney
>    failure and the like is offensive to me. >>I know
>    many diabetics that because of lack of insurance
>    and the types of jobs that don't provide it, and
>    lack of money, prevented them from taking care of
>    their needs. >>the insinuation or even the
>    judgement that it is their fault that they didn't
>    take care of their situation so that's why they
>    went blind is something that unless we are in
>    their shoes we have no right to make. >>I have
>    watched a dear friend die because of rejection of
>    a transplant and now I am married to a man who
>    would walk through fire for me, and I know, for an
>    absolute fact, that had he been able to afford
>    testing supplies to control his diabetes, he
>    would've. >>You have no idea what it is like to
>    watch this kind and gentle man stab his fingers
>    over and over and over again to get just enough
>    blood to get a test result, and to watch him
>    perform household tasks with those same fingers
>    that ache from those constant pricks from a needle
>    to at times, never get the opportunity to even
>    test because blood won't come due to cal-laces
>    from doing it all his life.>>Until you live the
>    life of these people, and walk in their shoes, you
>    have no right to judge whether they could've
>    prevented their blindness, or kidney failure.>>I'm
>    sorry if this sounds offensive to you and if it
>    does, there's nothing I can do about it. But I
>    live it every day with him, and know that he
>    didn't neglect his diabetes, and he sure didn't
>    ask for all the crap that he's gone through
>    because of it.>>Walk a mile in someone else's
>    shoes before you cast judgement. As it's been said
>    "Let those without sin cast the first
>    stone,">>Jennifer L. Keller >On Jul 29, 2012, at
>    9:07 PM, Kelly Pierce wrote:>>> Bill,>> >> Realize
>    that blindness from diabetes is completely
>    avoidable and type>> II diabetes is largely or
>    fully reversible. He likely didn't put much>>
>    energy or focus on obtaining good health and he is
>    likely similarly>> motivated at being an
>    independent blind person. As Federation leaders>>
>    speak of endlessly, attitude about blindness and
>    disability is the key>> factor for independence.
>    If he isn't putting out much energy into>> living
>    well, then the benefits of quality anything will
>    be limited.>> >> Kelly>> >> >> >> On 7/29/12, Bill
>    Reif <billreif at ameritech.net> wrote:>>> Today's
>    Chicago Tribune's news section actually has three
>    articles about>>> blindness. While two of them are
>    factual and harmless enough, the below>>> combines
>    all the worst stereotypes imaginable. It makes
>    those who lose sight>>> late in life seem fragile
>    emotional wrecks, the process of mobility a>>>
>    tortuous ordeal, and the effectiveness of programs
>    to help us only marginal.>>> The article includes
>    one interesting admission -- that most people
>    who>>> complete the training program must return
>    immediately before independence is>>> possible. My
>    heart goes out to this man, who must be
>    embarrassed by such a>>> description of him. I
>    hope he yet discovers that so much more is
>    possible>>> than to spend the rest of his life
>    warning people of the danger of becoming>>> who he
>    believes he is now. Meanwhile, Barbara Brotman and
>    the Tribune would>>> do the blind a tremendous
>    service if she would more accurately describe
>    the>>> possibility of a decent way forward, as
>    made more likely through>>> participation in a
>    training program with higher expectations -- one
>    that>>> does more in several months than teach
>    someone how to pour coffee and>>> complete a
>    two-block rehearsed walk.>>> >>> Bill>>> >>> >>>
>>>>>>>>>> -------- Original Message -------->>>
>    Subject:>>> Article from Chicago Tribune News 2012
>    07 29>>> Date:>>> Sun, 29 Jul 2012 19:24:06 -0400
>    (EDT)>>> From:>>> NFB-NEWSLINE Online
>    <nfbnewsline at nfb.org>>>> To:>>> William B. Reif
>    <billreif at ameritech.net>>>> >>> >>> Learning to
>    live once again after late-in-life blindness.
>    Barbara Brotman,>>> Tribune reporter. Jim
>    Juchcinski stopped at the front desk. . You
>    heading>>> out, Mr. Juchcinski? the security guard
>    asked. Outside, where there were no>>> walls to
>    hold on to? Where there were cracked sidewalks,
>    cars swerving into>>> parking lots, harried
>    pedestrians rushing by? Outside, with no arm to
>    grasp,>>> no teacher's voice to follow, alone on a
>    walk for the first time in two>>> years? Yes," he
>    said. I'm going to take a stroll. Close your eyes.
>    Now take>>> a step forward. How far can you get
>    before fear and disorientation grind you>>> to a
>    halt? Ten steps? Fifteen, before you open your
>    eyes? Juchcinski doesn't>>> have that option. The
>    Oak Lawn man is among 29,000 adults in Illinois
>    who>>> are completely blind, and must walk -- and
>    cook, read, work and go about>>> life -- in the
>    dark. It is a learned process. And if you have
>    seen someone>>> with a long white cane walking
>    alongside a sighted person, you may have>>>
>    spotted a lesson in progress. Juchcinski never
>    thought about blindness. If>>> he had, he might
>    not have ignored his diabetes for more than 20
>    years.>>> Instead, the disease raged out of
>    control, and diabetic retinopathy began>>>
>    stalking his vision. Blood vessels in his eyes
>    hemorrhaged faster than>>> surgeries could stem
>    the damage. On May 25, 2010, Juchcinski awoke
>    from>>> surgery to darkness. He never saw again.
>    Juchcinski, 60, had worked for 35>>> years as a
>    pipe insulator. He worked under contract at all of
>    Commonwealth>>> Edison's nuclear power plants and
>    several fossil power plants, often as>>> general
>    foreman or superintendent. Now he needed his wife
>    to pour his>>> coffee. His mood darkened; his
>    world shrank. He went out rarely, and then>>> only
>    on the arm of his wife, Kathy. At least every
>    other day, I started my>>> day with a cry," he
>    said. Which gave him a lot in common with those
>    who come>>> to the Illinois Center for
>    Rehabilitation and Education, known as
>    ICRE-Wood,>>> to learn how to manage life without
>    sight. Everyone cries when they lose>>> their
>    sight, Derrick Phillips, the center's
>    superintendent, told students at>>> the first
>    meeting of the session Juchcinski would join.
>    Phillips is blind,>>> and he had cried too, he
>    told them. But one day at ICRE-Wood, a couple
>    of>>> other students led him out of the building
>    and down the street -- three>>> blind men, walking
>    on their own to a convenience store. Phillips
>    cried again>>> -- only this time, because he saw
>    the possibilities. ICRE-Wood is the only>>>
>    state-run vocational training program for blind
>    adults in Illinois. People>>> come from across the
>    state, some staying in its dormitory rooms, for
>    its>>> 13-week intensive program in computer
>    skills, Braille, cooking, cleaning and>>> mobility
>    -- how to travel independently using a cane. It is
>    a kind of boot>>> camp for the blind. We deal with
>    people in crisis, people who just lost>>> their
>    sight," Phillips said. They don't come right away.
>    It often takes>>> months or even years for people
>    to acknowledge that they are visually>>> impaired
>    enough to need help, or to learn that there is
>    help available at>>> ICRE-Wood or agencies like
>    the Chicago Lighthouse or Second Sense
>    (formerly>>> the Guild for the Blind). Two years
>    after he lost his sight, Juchcinski sat>>> in the
>    office of Mae Michels, his orientation and
>    mobility teacher, his>>> solid frame squeezed into
>    a chair. His T-shirt, which he had had made,>>>
>    hinted at the joker behind the dark glasses:
>    "Blind Man Walking," it read.>>> Michels, a
>    diminutive and sprightly 22-year veteran of
>    teaching mobility to>>> the blind, listened as
>    Juchcinski told her his goal. I want to walk down
>    the>>> street," he said. I want to walk my dog. He
>    wasn't sure how he was going to>>> do it. Just
>    walking around his Oak Lawn condo, he bumped into
>    walls so many>>> times that he knocked down some
>    of the framed art. He joked with Kathy that>>> she
>    didn't have to worry about him dying of diabetes;
>    he was going to die of>>> a head injury. But
>    Michels nodded. She would teach him to walk down
>    the>>> street. She would take him step by step,
>    starting with walks down the>>> hallways at
>    ICRE-Wood. The crucial tool would be his cane,
>    which he had been>>> given but never really taught
>    how to use. You really need to listen to the>>>
>    cane," she told him. The cane acts as a hand,
>    helping the user feel the>>> difference between
>    surfaces like tile floor, pavement and grass. It
>    delivers>>> audible clues, making a different
>    sound when it hits a brick wall instead of>>> a
>    wood door. He would also learn to use his senses
>    of hearing, smell and>>> touch. And his memory: He
>    would have to count doorways and remember how
>    many>>> he needed to pass before reaching, say,
>    the washroom. Two weeks into the>>> program, he
>    stood at the front desk in the main lobby. His
>    path to a walk>>> outside began with learning how
>    to find his way around the building.>>>
>    Hesitantly, under Michels' watchful eye, he walked
>    along the edge of the>>> desk toward the elevator,
>    his cane finding the edge where the desk met
>    the>>> floor. Scrape, tap. Scrape, tap. Scrape,
>    tap. He got stuck in the small>>> cubby with the
>    pay phone. He faced the wall for a few moments,
>    tapping,>>> before finding his way out. He
>    navigated the long halls by memory, counting>>>
>    doorways to locate classrooms, and by senses.
>    Every sound was a clue. The>>> echo of Michels'
>    voice outside the wide stairwell upstairs. The
>    change in>>> his own voice as he got closer to a
>    wall. The pounding music from the gym.>>> The
>    cane's metallic echo against a baseboard radiator.
>    Even the air held>>> information. Sighted people
>    might never notice, but in the space where one>>>
>    hallway intersects another, there is a slight
>    breeze. Afterward, back in>>> Michels' office,
>    Juchcinski was drained. It's like going back to
>    high>>> school," he said. It's a lot to absorb. A
>    few days later, he got lost in a>>> storeroom. The
>    door had been left open by mistake. For 25 minutes
>    he tried>>> to find his way out, bumping into
>    desks and chairs, searching for the door.>>> By
>    the time a maintenance man came in and found him,
>    he was sweating from>>> nerves and fear. He was so
>    angry he wanted to quit. But he didn't. Six
>    weeks>>> before the session's end, he ventured
>    outside for the first time with>>> Michels. She
>    taught him how to make his way through the front
>    entrance, with>>> its two automatic doors that had
>    to be activated by standing on a carpet>>> square.
>    He practiced repeatedly, at one point nearly
>    losing his balance on>>> the raised lip between
>    the foyer and the sidewalk. Whoa, that sure wakes
>    you>>> up," he muttered. On Chicago's Wood Street,
>    he took Michels' arm. She>>> described the route
>    as they walked it, in detail, down to the texture
>    of the>>> grass in the parkway. The week before
>    his classes were to end, Juchcinski>>> began a day
>    in a funk. I was having a bad morning," he told
>    Michels. I said,>>> 'I'm frickin' tired of being
>    blind.' " But the morning got better. With>>>
>    Michels at his side, Juchcinski walked the entire
>    route that would be his>>> solo -- this time,
>    heading north on Wood Street. He gripped a new
>    cane with>>> an easy-rolling ball for a tip to
>    "shoreline" the edge of the sidewalk,>>> using it
>    as his guide, as he walked to the parking lot up
>    the block. A quick>>> lesson in how to cross it --
>    listen for cars, check for the slant in the>>>
>    sidewalk down to the street -- and Juchcinski was
>    ready to take his first>>> solo walk. So ready, in
>    fact, that he decided to add another first. Not
>    only>>> would he walk outside by himself, but he
>    also would keep walking past the>>> route he had
>    practiced and go all the way to the intersection
>    with Taylor>>> Street. On a blazing hot morning in
>    mid-July, the last day of his session,>>>
>    Juchcinski stood at ICRE-Wood's front desk, three
>    months of training behind>>> him and his first
>    solo walk ahead of him. I'm ready to rock 'n'
>    roll," he>>> said. Happy trails," Michels said,
>    smiling. Take your time," the security>>> guard
>    called out. I have no choice," Juchcinski said. He
>    went out the door.>>> Down the edge of the
>    sidewalk. Down the ramp. North on Wood Street.
>    Early>>> morning commuters rushed past. The Pink
>    Line rumbled. Sirens wailed. And>>> then, halfway
>    to the parking lot along ICRE-Wood's chain-link
>    fence, tears>>> slipped out from behind his dark
>    glasses. He was crying with pride. He was>>>
>    walking by himself -- slowly, but with confidence.
>    After sniffling a few>>> times and murmuring,
>    "I'll man up," he kept walking. But he had lost>>>
>    concentration. He veered to the other side of the
>    walk. When his cane>>> touched grass, he knew
>    something was wrong. I think I went too far to
>    the>>> left," he murmured. He stepped into the
>    grass and nearly lost his balance.>>> He righted
>    himself, crossed back over the sidewalk again and
>    got to the>>> rubber domes marking the parking lot
>    entrance. He waited and listened. Then>>> he
>    started crossing the parking lot entrance. But he
>    veered right, and>>> walked into the lot. His cane
>    touched a parked car. He turned around, but>>> the
>    cane got stuck in the wrought-iron fence. Michels
>    tells students to ask>>> bystanders for help if
>    they need it. Juchcinski did and within a moment
>    was>>> out of the parking lot. It was time to
>    cross uncharted territory. He stepped>>> forward
>    on the unfamiliar sidewalk. Methodically, he swept
>    the cane from the>>> center of the sidewalk to
>    where it met dirt at its right edge. Step after>>>
>    step, he followed that shoreline until his cane
>    reached something that felt>>> different -- the
>    raised domes marking the end of the sidewalk. He
>    was at the>>> corner of Wood and Taylor streets,
>    and he was grinning. He kept grinning>>> even
>    after he collided with a fellow student while
>    walking back. And after>>> he stumbled into a tree
>    and landscaping rocks next to the front door. In
>    29>>> minutes, he had traveled 0.12 miles, and a
>    long way toward independence.>>> Like 80 percent
>    of students, Juchcinski will go on to a second
>    13-week>>> session at ICRE-Wood. He is learning
>    more than mobility; he has been pouring>>> his own
>    coffee for months. After graduation, he has
>    another goal: to become>>> a motivational speaker
>    for people with diabetes, offering his blindness
>    as a>>> powerful warning. He walked into the
>    lobby, where Michels was waiting with a>>> smile
>    and congratulations. Students are required to
>    check back in at the>>> front desk. Juchcinski
>    stood in front of the security guard. I'm just
>    coming>>> back," he said, "from a walk."
>    ---------- blbbrotman at tribune.com>>>
>    chicagotribune.com/blindness See a video of Jim
>    Juchcinski learning to>>> become independent
>    again. ct12 0011 120729 N S 0000000000
>    00005490.>>> ILLUSTRATION: Photo(s) Graphic(s).
>    Photo: Jim Juchcinski, 60, of Oak Lawn,>>> with
>    mobility instructor Mae Michels, steps toward
>    independence outside a>>> Chicago center. HEATHER
>    CHARLES/TRIBUNE PHOTO Photo: Jim Juchcinski,
>    who>>> lost his sight in 2010 because of diabetic
>    retinopathy, learns to walk>>> independently
>    again, guided by mobility teacher Mae Michels.
>    HEATHER>>> CHARLES/TRIBUNE PHOTOS Photo: With
>    Michels' help, Juchcinski has learned to>>> use
>    his sense of touch and a cane to detect
>    differences in surfaces -- such>>> as tile floor,
>    pavement and grass -- while walking. Graphic:
>    Vision loss>>> from diabetes Diabetic retinopathy
>    is the leading cause of blindness in U.S.>>>
>    adults ages 20 to 74. The disease involves damage
>    to the blood vessels of>>> the retina. PREVALENCE
>    AMONG DIABETICS In the U.S. Diabetics with>>>
>    retinopathy: 28.5% Retinopathy occurs more often
>    in male diabetics Men:>>> 31.6% Women: 25.7%
>    899,000 Americans with vision threatening
>    diabetic>>> retinopathy SOURCE: Centers for
>    Disease Control and Prevention/TRIBUNE\ ->>> See
>    microfilm for complete graphic.>>> >>> >> >>
>    _______________________________________________>>
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