Today I used my cane, and why I won’t tomorrow

The short answer is that I’m stubborn. The slightly longer answer is that I’m stubborn bordering on stupid.

Let’s start with why I chose to use my cane today.

Today was the World Usability Day event at Michigan State University, an annual event hosted at MSU and other institutions of higher learning that helps to raise awareness about the importance and practical application of web accessibility. 

That’s not why I used my cane, well, not exactly.

After I had registered on-line I started looking around the web page that had been set up to provide details about  the event, and that’s when I saw it. For some reason I had assumed that the event would be held at the MSU Kellogg Center, but I was mistaken, it was to take place in the MSU Student Union. 

And that’s why I chose to use my cane today.

Now this begs the obvious question, “Why today? Why don’t you use your cane every day? Just the mere fact that you would choose to use your cane on some days would lead the novice observer to conclude that your sight is of poor enough condition that you should probably be using it every day.” Which brings us back to where we started, I guess I’m just stubborn bordering on stupid. Well, at least most of the time.

Back in the day, I used to use my cane all of the time. I actually completed basic mobility training while a client of the Michigan Commission for the Blind (the agency that is now known as  the State of Michigan Bureau of Services for Blind Persons) which equipped me with the basic skills I needed to  get around campus, first as a student at Lansing Community College, and to a lesser extent after I had transferred out to Michigan State University. So this is part of my explanation for why I used to use my cane, but then eventually got away from using it.

Lame Excuse 1:

Canes are great for getting around large geographically dispersed areas, buildings, etc. that are unfamiliar to you, but not necessarily something that you need to use around the office

For me, this really just boils down to how comfortable I am with my surroundings. It’s also worth repeating here, that I do have some useable vision remaining in the lower periphery of my right eye, so if I was completely blind, for example, or only had light sensitivity, I doubt I would have been brave enough to make such a blind leap of faith (am  I supposed to say pun intended here?) 

Once I got my first job after college and the extent of my needing to travel around  was getting from my office to the break room to the conference room and back to my office, I began to feel more comfortable with my surroundings and naturally started to wean myself off of having to use my trusty mobility aid. Although your typical office suite or cubicle farm might present some challenges for getting around, it’s nothing compared to traversing across campus or dodging throngs of students milling about in crowded hallways, so part of my decision to quit using my cane was a  strict utilitarian one. 

Lame Excuse 2:

Canes are helpful, but sometimes they can draw unwanted attention to you

This is the double-edged sword example of my explanations. On one hand, the sight of a white cane can signal to others that you are blind or have a visual impairment, which is great for receiving much needed guidance or assistance. The flip-side is that the white cane can signal to people that you are blind or have a visual impairment, which can be problematic if that guidance or assistance isn’t thought through very well.

I think back to an incident that occurred when I was still taking classes at Lansing Community College. Most of my classes were in the Arts & Sciences building with the exception of this one computer class, that was over in Old Central (which is the site of where the new University Center building now stands). Well, getting to Old Central meant that I had to cross over Capital Avenue at Shiawassee, again, not a big deal most days. Well on this particular day I was heading back to main campus. I patiently waited through a couple of traffic cycles as I had been taught, and waited for the cars on the one-way street in front of me to stop, signaling that it was finally safe for me to cross. Once the cars had stopped, I started making my way across the three lanes of traffic. I got half way across Capital Avenue and the car I was crossing in front of abruptly honked its horn at me. Of course, I froze.

I had no idea what the honk was for, but I was stuck in the middle of a busy intersection so it wasn’t exactly the time or place to throw everything on hold while  I pondered all of the possibilities. My instinct was that it was a honk of the not good variety, a “hey watch it buddy, you’re about to get hit by a bus” type honk, because why else would someone honk at a blind person passing in front of their car? However, after an awkward few seconds of me standing there paralyzed in the crosswalk, I was eventually able to discern enough of the driver’s muffled commands (since it was January and they didn’t even bother to roll their window down to try and talk to me) to figure out what was going on. Turns out, the driver’s honk was the equivalent of a thumbs up, a “hey buddy, you are okay to keep crossing the intersection in front of my car” to which I sarcastically responded, “THANKS” through clenched teeth (and now that I think about it, I may have substituted “thanks” for a certain four letter  expletive.)

Needless to say, even Samaritans with good intentions can unwillingly create stress by trying to help out where they’re not wanted or needed, especially, as a person with a visual disability who’s radar is already on high alert.

Lame Excuse 3:

I don’t really see well enough to not use a cane, but I do see a little, so what’s the worst that could happen?

For my final, paradoxical explanation I plead ignorance, or insanity, or insert the adjective that best describes how a person rationalizes a bad decision with some sort of appeal to one’s sense of adventure, or maintaining their own independence. The fact of the matter is that there isn’t any good reason for me not to use my cane all of the time, at least those times that I’m off traveling on my own.

Honestly, most of the time I am accompanied by someone who helps to guide me around. If it’s my wife, we usually walk holding hands, if it’s my friend Justin, he likes to walk four to five feet in front of me and then turn and shout at me as loud as he can, “Chris, follow my voice!” which usually gets more than a few puzzled stares from on-lookers and passers-by.

As for when I go solo, so far I have been relatively lucky. Sure, every so often I nail a fire hydrant with my shin, or knock over the occasional “wet floor” sign. I have a number of close calls with pedestrians, especially  when they walk up on my left side  which is my prosthetic eye, or bikers coming toward me that close on me so fast that I can’t react to them in time. And yes, I have had numerous close calls with cars, once I even got hit (this is what we in the business refer to as foreshadowing, so you now have something to look forward to   in a future blog post.) There has only been one real bad consequence for traveling around without my cane someplace I probably shouldn’t have been, and that’s when I accidentally stepped off the edge of a 14 inch high retaining wall and broke my foot when it slammed into the concrete below.

So now that brings us back to today, and why I chose to use my cane.

Well the thing about the MSU Student Union, is that it’s an older building with multiple different levels, and lots of stairs that seem to just spring up out of nowhere, or suddenly drop off in front of you as you are walking down the corridor. With me and my limited vision, this is the equivalent of quicksand, but really hard quicksand that tends to twists ankles and break bones.

So I did the right thing, the smart thing, and grabbed my cane on the way out the door. Just as I had planned, I was able to use my cane to safely make my way around the MSU Student Union, having successfully anticipated several approaching staircases, and I even avoided some of those annoying metal divider things in the middle of the doorframes. And my cane came in handy when I was getting ready to leave, eliciting that good sort of guidance and assistance, when some ladies waiting for the elevator saw my cane and asked if I wanted to ride down with them to the ground floor.

Now I have nothing against my cane, and who knows, maybe I’ll start using it on a regular basis. But not tomorrow, definitely not tomorrow. 

Why you say? Partly because I am stubborn, heck maybe even a little stupid. But mostly because tomorrow is deer camp. And with that I’ll leave you with that image, and maybe more importantly a question. “Exactly what does a blind guy do at deer camp?”

Again, more foreshadowing of things to come…