When I was younger, I didn't have a dog or any other pet. We couldn't afford one, but even if we could, my mother said she didn't know how to take care of a dog and she didn't like cats. When I went for my first guide, I was excited and nervous. I couldn't wait to travel differently, but I also had no idea what I was getting into on the journey. When I sat in the room and Jessie brought me Valerie, I put her on leash and brought her back to my room. I remember thinking, OMG, what am I supposed to do; she is bigger than I expected; why is she sniffing me and why doesn't she wag her tail? When we walked, I was surprised how fast we could move. I also never wanted to cry more, especially when we got completely turned around in the middle of an intersection in the pouring rain.
When I got Zorro, I was feeling horrible. Valerie had retired four months earlier, but I had just given her to her new family the day before. I was at peace with that decision, but I was so numb and apathetic; I didn't know it then, but it was the start of my depression. Looking back, I should have waited to get another guide, but I missed the fast-paced, obstacle-avoiding that I had with Valerie during the times she was working well. I really don't remember much from that class, but I know I was very anti-social and I wanted to go home.
When I got Dee, I was in a recovery period of the depression cycle, and I was getting physical therapy, which lessened my back and hip pain for the first time in at least four years. This time, I was anticipating the dog; I went nine months without a guide, and while I was an ok cane user then, I missed the smoothness of walking together down the sidewalk or in a crowd. After the first three days, I knew she was the best dog I've ever had, and I told the trainers so. We had an evaluation at the end of the first week to make sure I felt I had the right dog, since it was only a two-week class. I was feeling wonderful, but I was also anxious. My other two guides didn't work out for me because of Valerie's health issues and my health issues as well as behavioral ones on Zorro's end. I had been rejected from seeing eye, so I was anxious about doing well at Guide Dogs for the Blind because I wanted to show that I was a good handler who could take care of my dog. I was relieved when the trainer and supervisor assured me again and again that I was doing fine, and that I should trust my instincts when working with my dog and not second-guess every decision I needed to make.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
my first dog
This is a post I wrote in 2006 about my first guide Valerie.
I love my dog Valerie. The first time I really realized this was when we had our first solo route at Seeing Eye. We'd been there for a week, learning this route on five walks and learning all of the dog skills, forward, left, right, follow the harness handle, feel head turns through the leash, tone of voice for praise vs. correction, ETC. This seems simple in theory, but it was hard. One of my issues the first week was body language, which means a lot to the dog. Jess always told me, point your nose where you want to go and relax your right arm; the dog can feel the tention and will get confused and thinkyou want to turn if you aren't aligned correctly. She also said, nice and steady in the street. As a cane user, you walk as fast as you can to get across, but with a dog, there needs to be reaction time for traffic checks. During these walks, Jess would talk to us the whole time; during the solo, she walked a block back and had no contact with us during the route.
I was sooo nervous because mine was a total solo; Zanda and Cliff got to go in a pair. Now, I can walk and have a conversation or think about other things, classes, stuff I need to do ETC, gbut during that walk, I was totally concentrating on, did i just cross the second street or third and do i turn left after the first block or second. It was one of the first times that I didn't get lost while walking somewhere by myself. We had good street crossings; I was a little worried about that because the trainers would just tell us when to go, so I didn't really listen to traffic while walking with them. Blind people cross the street by listening ot traffic patterns, parallel vs. perpendicular traffic, near lane-far lane, near side of the street-other side, residential-lighted ETC. We made it through dog distraction with correction all the way, and I made it through the set up construction zone with cones I felt like I had been out there for a long time, but it was actually only 29 minutes. We had a bet with Jess; if all four of us finished by 10:30, she had to buy us starbucks, and we finished just after 10. All of us, Zanda, Cliff, Mike, and I were soooooooo happy after that walk!!! Jess said, How do you feel? I was like, I made it; that was awesome!!!!
Another great trip was New York City. It is crazy, lots of people, objects, interesting smells for the dog. We rode to NYC in Seeing Eye vans and walked awhile. We went to the Empire state Building, and that was really cool!! We got to practice going through security with our dogs, and we went up to the 86 floor, where we had an audio tour of the surroundings. Later, we took the subway and went to eat lunch, yay!!! We got to put four dogs and six people in a booth. When the waiter came over, because everyone watched us as we walked in with the dogs, asked, "where did your dogs go?. We laughed, and pointed under the table. Melissa, another trainer, was like, I guess he thought we were going to let them run around the restaurant stealing dood." Our longest part was walking from somewhere in Time Square to where the van was parked. It was amazing to walk through all of the people and objects at fast speed without running into them. I really loved that day, and I can't wait to go back to NYC to work with Valerie and do something fun again.
Then, there is just everyday stuff. I like getting up and seeing a really excited, playful dog. After I get out of bed, the first thing Valerie does is flop on me for a belly rub; then, she runs in a circle and wants to play with me. She is sooooo cute!! I love being able to miss all of the construction, trees, and holes in the sidewalk that you find with a cane. It is nice to just have a dog because I never had pets growing up. She loves my friends and anyone else who comes over to the room, even if they aren't visiting me, LOL. When she stops for me as a car turns quickly in front of us, when she stops at stairs and doesn't go forward till I realize why she stopped, when it is crowded and we walk through it without finding all of the people in it, when there is always a happy tail wag if you just say Valerie in a happy voice, when she gets really excited when we stop at a building she remembers: these are the times when I know that all the work of getting a dog is worth it, and our relationship will only get stronger as the years progress.
I love my dog Valerie. The first time I really realized this was when we had our first solo route at Seeing Eye. We'd been there for a week, learning this route on five walks and learning all of the dog skills, forward, left, right, follow the harness handle, feel head turns through the leash, tone of voice for praise vs. correction, ETC. This seems simple in theory, but it was hard. One of my issues the first week was body language, which means a lot to the dog. Jess always told me, point your nose where you want to go and relax your right arm; the dog can feel the tention and will get confused and thinkyou want to turn if you aren't aligned correctly. She also said, nice and steady in the street. As a cane user, you walk as fast as you can to get across, but with a dog, there needs to be reaction time for traffic checks. During these walks, Jess would talk to us the whole time; during the solo, she walked a block back and had no contact with us during the route.
I was sooo nervous because mine was a total solo; Zanda and Cliff got to go in a pair. Now, I can walk and have a conversation or think about other things, classes, stuff I need to do ETC, gbut during that walk, I was totally concentrating on, did i just cross the second street or third and do i turn left after the first block or second. It was one of the first times that I didn't get lost while walking somewhere by myself. We had good street crossings; I was a little worried about that because the trainers would just tell us when to go, so I didn't really listen to traffic while walking with them. Blind people cross the street by listening ot traffic patterns, parallel vs. perpendicular traffic, near lane-far lane, near side of the street-other side, residential-lighted ETC. We made it through dog distraction with correction all the way, and I made it through the set up construction zone with cones I felt like I had been out there for a long time, but it was actually only 29 minutes. We had a bet with Jess; if all four of us finished by 10:30, she had to buy us starbucks, and we finished just after 10. All of us, Zanda, Cliff, Mike, and I were soooooooo happy after that walk!!! Jess said, How do you feel? I was like, I made it; that was awesome!!!!
Another great trip was New York City. It is crazy, lots of people, objects, interesting smells for the dog. We rode to NYC in Seeing Eye vans and walked awhile. We went to the Empire state Building, and that was really cool!! We got to practice going through security with our dogs, and we went up to the 86 floor, where we had an audio tour of the surroundings. Later, we took the subway and went to eat lunch, yay!!! We got to put four dogs and six people in a booth. When the waiter came over, because everyone watched us as we walked in with the dogs, asked, "where did your dogs go?. We laughed, and pointed under the table. Melissa, another trainer, was like, I guess he thought we were going to let them run around the restaurant stealing dood." Our longest part was walking from somewhere in Time Square to where the van was parked. It was amazing to walk through all of the people and objects at fast speed without running into them. I really loved that day, and I can't wait to go back to NYC to work with Valerie and do something fun again.
Then, there is just everyday stuff. I like getting up and seeing a really excited, playful dog. After I get out of bed, the first thing Valerie does is flop on me for a belly rub; then, she runs in a circle and wants to play with me. She is sooooo cute!! I love being able to miss all of the construction, trees, and holes in the sidewalk that you find with a cane. It is nice to just have a dog because I never had pets growing up. She loves my friends and anyone else who comes over to the room, even if they aren't visiting me, LOL. When she stops for me as a car turns quickly in front of us, when she stops at stairs and doesn't go forward till I realize why she stopped, when it is crowded and we walk through it without finding all of the people in it, when there is always a happy tail wag if you just say Valerie in a happy voice, when she gets really excited when we stop at a building she remembers: these are the times when I know that all the work of getting a dog is worth it, and our relationship will only get stronger as the years progress.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Dee update
Yesterday, Dee and I went to the orthopedic vet specialist. They did a physical exam first, where the vet said she has discomfort in her neck and pain in both shoulders. They did x-rays, and they found some arthritis and shoulder instability. She is going to have hobbles, braces to restrict shoulder movement, and she will have exercises that I can help her do. She might have physical therapy too. I talked to GDB yesterday, and they authorized $1,200 and said to call when it's about to run out. Dr. Patty asked me if i was hoping GDB would fund partial or all of it. I told her all of it, and if that didn't happen, Dee wouldn't receive physical therapy. Each PT session is $1,500, and for the eight that the vet wants her to have, that is $12,000. There is no way I could afford even one session.
It doesn't look good. Dee is in pain; the vet says the three to four months not guiding, and not playing or moving much should fix it. But I am weary of it happening again, and I don't want to cause Dee further pain by forcing her to guide. There is too much pressure and strength needed from the shoulders and neck, and I don't know if it will be safe.
I'm starting to ask people I know if they would take Dee or know someone who would in the probability of her retirement. I also have half of my application submitted to GDF; I just have the eye doctor report and video to shoot before it can go for review.
It doesn't look good. Dee is in pain; the vet says the three to four months not guiding, and not playing or moving much should fix it. But I am weary of it happening again, and I don't want to cause Dee further pain by forcing her to guide. There is too much pressure and strength needed from the shoulders and neck, and I don't know if it will be safe.
I'm starting to ask people I know if they would take Dee or know someone who would in the probability of her retirement. I also have half of my application submitted to GDF; I just have the eye doctor report and video to shoot before it can go for review.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
be thankful and shut up
In all of the communities where I find myself belonging, there is a theme of gratefulness and silence.
First, people with disabilities should be grateful for everything. If I refuse assistance from someone and am with able-bodied friends, some say I should be thankful for their kindness. Well, I'm not. If I say I do not want or need assistance, I expect the person to back off and say ok, not continue to grab my arm, push me, insist I can't do it by myself. I'd be grateful if able-bodied rules about personal space applied to me. There is also being grateful for services and access. At the beginning of my freshman year, well a week before it started, I put in a request for a reader for my French book and workbook. Since I had filled out accomodations forms with a reader as a possible accomodation, I didn't think it would be a problem. I went in to DSS my first week to see when I could have my reader, and the secretary happily hands me tapes. I ask her what these are, and she says, the first chapter of your French book and workbook. Me (in my mind) what? This is *not* what I meant by a reader. I tell her I thought I was going to have a reader. She says, "there is a reader on the tapes. He read the books and recorded them." I gave them back to her and explained that a reader is someone who will sit with me and read the book, spell words, describe photos, ETC. She said, "but they're already done." I told her that the tapes would not be helpful and I would like a reader. She proceeds to say they've never done that before, and the other blind students liked the tapes. I'm not all blind students. French is a language I've only had for a semester, and I need someone to spell new words and tell me which accent marks go on the letters. In this put upon tone, she says "i'll see what I can do." Three weeks later, they finally found a reader for me. Thank God the professor was understanding and gave me an extention because of accessibility issues. By that time, I had four chapters of workbook and lab work to do. Any time after that when I needed a reader, I found the person before the class started or the first couple days of class and sent them to DSS to fill out the paperwork to work for me.
Another area where I see the grateful attitude is adoption. I'm not bashing all adoptive parents; there are many awesome ones who are empathetic and do great work with their kids and the community. But there are many others who think adoption is the best thing and first moms and adoptees should share the same happy clappy emotions. Well that's not true for me and other adoptees. I started asking questions about Paraguay when I was in junior high; my mother says why do you want to know that stuff for, it's borring. She doesn't know anything about Latin America and has no desire to learn. I tell her I feel as if I'm missing culture and stuff and the feelings are dismissed because she says, "you're white and live in our family." I am allowed to have these feelings and questions, and they should not be invalidated because she is happy with everything. Then, there is adoption in conversations. It comes up with friends and strangers alike. I always say, there are many issues to be considered in adoption. I think they all look at me with surprise or something because they say, "huh? What issues?" There is whether people want open or closed adoptions. With domestic ones, that is a possibility. However, in international adoption, that is another whole kettle of fish. There are so many corrupt agencies who find children on the streets or take them from families and relatives who want them. There is so much money and agencies who are looking out for themselves and the children. there are often not records and a family history. I do not have a birth certificate, medical history, or anything from my time in Paraguay. It makes things complicated when I need to give official documents, like getting state Id and stuff. In the conversations, people are usually either I didn't think of that, or but you got adopted and don't live there anymore so be happy about it and don't worry about adoption issues.
But that is not who I am. I have always cared about justice and equality, and being a sociology major strengthened that part of me. Sometimes fighting for my rights is tiring, and it would be nice just to curl up in a ball and not think of them. However, I won't stop fighting for myself. I owe it to myself to make sure I have the access I need, not the access someone else thinks I need, to the materials and services that will allow me to be successful. Maybe the next student will not have as difficult a time because of something I said. I do it for my students, especially the children, because I want them to see that they do not have to settle just because someone offers a crumb of accommodation. I will not shut up about adoption because the system needs to change. I'm new to adoption advocacy, but I want to help in any way I can.
First, people with disabilities should be grateful for everything. If I refuse assistance from someone and am with able-bodied friends, some say I should be thankful for their kindness. Well, I'm not. If I say I do not want or need assistance, I expect the person to back off and say ok, not continue to grab my arm, push me, insist I can't do it by myself. I'd be grateful if able-bodied rules about personal space applied to me. There is also being grateful for services and access. At the beginning of my freshman year, well a week before it started, I put in a request for a reader for my French book and workbook. Since I had filled out accomodations forms with a reader as a possible accomodation, I didn't think it would be a problem. I went in to DSS my first week to see when I could have my reader, and the secretary happily hands me tapes. I ask her what these are, and she says, the first chapter of your French book and workbook. Me (in my mind) what? This is *not* what I meant by a reader. I tell her I thought I was going to have a reader. She says, "there is a reader on the tapes. He read the books and recorded them." I gave them back to her and explained that a reader is someone who will sit with me and read the book, spell words, describe photos, ETC. She said, "but they're already done." I told her that the tapes would not be helpful and I would like a reader. She proceeds to say they've never done that before, and the other blind students liked the tapes. I'm not all blind students. French is a language I've only had for a semester, and I need someone to spell new words and tell me which accent marks go on the letters. In this put upon tone, she says "i'll see what I can do." Three weeks later, they finally found a reader for me. Thank God the professor was understanding and gave me an extention because of accessibility issues. By that time, I had four chapters of workbook and lab work to do. Any time after that when I needed a reader, I found the person before the class started or the first couple days of class and sent them to DSS to fill out the paperwork to work for me.
Another area where I see the grateful attitude is adoption. I'm not bashing all adoptive parents; there are many awesome ones who are empathetic and do great work with their kids and the community. But there are many others who think adoption is the best thing and first moms and adoptees should share the same happy clappy emotions. Well that's not true for me and other adoptees. I started asking questions about Paraguay when I was in junior high; my mother says why do you want to know that stuff for, it's borring. She doesn't know anything about Latin America and has no desire to learn. I tell her I feel as if I'm missing culture and stuff and the feelings are dismissed because she says, "you're white and live in our family." I am allowed to have these feelings and questions, and they should not be invalidated because she is happy with everything. Then, there is adoption in conversations. It comes up with friends and strangers alike. I always say, there are many issues to be considered in adoption. I think they all look at me with surprise or something because they say, "huh? What issues?" There is whether people want open or closed adoptions. With domestic ones, that is a possibility. However, in international adoption, that is another whole kettle of fish. There are so many corrupt agencies who find children on the streets or take them from families and relatives who want them. There is so much money and agencies who are looking out for themselves and the children. there are often not records and a family history. I do not have a birth certificate, medical history, or anything from my time in Paraguay. It makes things complicated when I need to give official documents, like getting state Id and stuff. In the conversations, people are usually either I didn't think of that, or but you got adopted and don't live there anymore so be happy about it and don't worry about adoption issues.
But that is not who I am. I have always cared about justice and equality, and being a sociology major strengthened that part of me. Sometimes fighting for my rights is tiring, and it would be nice just to curl up in a ball and not think of them. However, I won't stop fighting for myself. I owe it to myself to make sure I have the access I need, not the access someone else thinks I need, to the materials and services that will allow me to be successful. Maybe the next student will not have as difficult a time because of something I said. I do it for my students, especially the children, because I want them to see that they do not have to settle just because someone offers a crumb of accommodation. I will not shut up about adoption because the system needs to change. I'm new to adoption advocacy, but I want to help in any way I can.
graduation
I am now a college graduate!!! I graduated last saturday with a B.A. in sociology and a B.A. in journalism. It was a nice day, thank God! Bloomsburg had been getting torrential downpours for the past two weeks or so, but it was sunny all morning. I decided to wear a black dress under my gown and sparkly brown flats, because I just do not like heals; I already have ankle issues, and heels on the bricks on the quad would not have been a good idea. I also had a graduation cap for Dee; she was not happy having something on her head, but everyone thought she was adorable. We took the shuttle for the last time to campus, and we got in line to process. I wasn't really sure where I was supposed to go. dr. Samson, the chair of sociology, saw me and asked me if I knew what was happening. I said I didn't, so she offered to walk in front of me and tell me when to turn and stuff. Dee did well guiding in the procession; she didn't stop to sniff the people clapping and cheering on either side of the isle, and she wasn't distracted by all the noise. She had trouble following though, so I'm glad Dr. Samson was talking to me. We were at our seats; for some reason, Dee didn't want to back up for me, so it took a few seconds to get her into the row instead of lying on the walkway. After that, there were some borring speeches, and we finally got to go up and get our diplomas. Dr. Samson walked beside me this time, and we stood there chatting in line while we slowly moved forward. While I was in line, I saw Dr. Omori, the professor I had for statistics and quantitative research methods. She surprised me by coming over and giving me a hug and said great job I didn't know you were graduating! We made it up the stairs and across the stage without issue. It took me a few seconds longer than everyone else because we were supposed to cary the diploma in the left hand and shake people's hands with the right, but I had to stop each time, drop the harness handle, and switch. On the way down from the platform, I saw my English professor as well as the professor I had for Italian and Spanish. After some more borring speeches, we were allowed to leave.
I was kind of sad because my mom wasn't there; she was sick and couldn't come, so the other family who was going with her didn't come either. However, my boss and his wife were there, and I was so glad to see them. I've worked for him, teaching people Braille, assistive tech, and other blindness skills since October of my freshman year. He's seen me through all three dogs, my depression crash, and everything else. We've spent at least 100 hours on the road, so we've had a lot of time to talk. I'm glad he never gave up on me, even when I was in the worst part of my depression and barely speaking to anyone.
Now I'm back in Altoona at my mother's house. I hate being here!!! She treats me as if I am a child. She keeps asking me if I'm going to eat; I don't eat on her schedule. She eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner all within seven hours. I can't eat like that; if I eat breakfast at 11, I'm not hungry again till 6 or 7 at night. She says she's not a 24 hour kitchen, but I fix my own food so it shouldn't matter to her when I eat. She is also the same way about Dee. Does Dee have water; make sure you give her enough food. Does she need to relieve. I take her out four or five times per day, but my mother thinks she should go out every two or three hours.
We now have a possible idea what is wrong with Dee. When we went to the vet last week, I explained again that she was having trouble putting pressure into the chest strap, going uphills, ETC. They pushed on her and pulled her, but they said she wasn't yelping or flinching or anything; I said that didn't mean much since that wasn't her usual reaction. They took her outside and had her run circles in the parking lot; they came back inside all surprised because they said that was the first time they had a dog refuse to make left turns and run. After that, they took her to x-rays where she surprised them again by being perfectly still and not struggling in position. They found a pin-sized bone chip missing/floating in her left shoulder blade, and there is a separation between the servical vertibre 6 and 7, the ones from the neck to between the shoulder blades. Now, they want her to have a myelogram; they put her under anesthesia for awhile and put dye and stuff into her spine to see if the nerves are pinched. If they are, she will have to have surgery to have the disk removed so the two bones won't be separated anymore. Now that I'm $350 poorer and have to spend more of my scholarship money on vet costs, I might be staying here for the summer. I wanted to go to the NFB convention in Orlando, but if Dee has to have surgery, I won't be able to go. Please pray and send good thoughts for Dee; I miss having her work for me.
I was kind of sad because my mom wasn't there; she was sick and couldn't come, so the other family who was going with her didn't come either. However, my boss and his wife were there, and I was so glad to see them. I've worked for him, teaching people Braille, assistive tech, and other blindness skills since October of my freshman year. He's seen me through all three dogs, my depression crash, and everything else. We've spent at least 100 hours on the road, so we've had a lot of time to talk. I'm glad he never gave up on me, even when I was in the worst part of my depression and barely speaking to anyone.
Now I'm back in Altoona at my mother's house. I hate being here!!! She treats me as if I am a child. She keeps asking me if I'm going to eat; I don't eat on her schedule. She eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner all within seven hours. I can't eat like that; if I eat breakfast at 11, I'm not hungry again till 6 or 7 at night. She says she's not a 24 hour kitchen, but I fix my own food so it shouldn't matter to her when I eat. She is also the same way about Dee. Does Dee have water; make sure you give her enough food. Does she need to relieve. I take her out four or five times per day, but my mother thinks she should go out every two or three hours.
We now have a possible idea what is wrong with Dee. When we went to the vet last week, I explained again that she was having trouble putting pressure into the chest strap, going uphills, ETC. They pushed on her and pulled her, but they said she wasn't yelping or flinching or anything; I said that didn't mean much since that wasn't her usual reaction. They took her outside and had her run circles in the parking lot; they came back inside all surprised because they said that was the first time they had a dog refuse to make left turns and run. After that, they took her to x-rays where she surprised them again by being perfectly still and not struggling in position. They found a pin-sized bone chip missing/floating in her left shoulder blade, and there is a separation between the servical vertibre 6 and 7, the ones from the neck to between the shoulder blades. Now, they want her to have a myelogram; they put her under anesthesia for awhile and put dye and stuff into her spine to see if the nerves are pinched. If they are, she will have to have surgery to have the disk removed so the two bones won't be separated anymore. Now that I'm $350 poorer and have to spend more of my scholarship money on vet costs, I might be staying here for the summer. I wanted to go to the NFB convention in Orlando, but if Dee has to have surgery, I won't be able to go. Please pray and send good thoughts for Dee; I miss having her work for me.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
selecting my spoons
Here is another post for blogging against disablism day.
Christine's spoons theory basically says that you start the day out with a certain number of spoons, choices energy, and everything else that goes into functioning. Unlike healthy, able-bodied people, it's about making choices of how to accomplish everything. I am totally blind, have mild scoliosis and joint pain, and have depression. The depression manifests itself as inability to concentrate, little motivation to do anything ensomnia and overall tiredness. Healthy people tell me just go and do it; it's no big deal. My response is always, if i could think myself emotional, energetic, and able to do whatever I want, I would do it in a second.
Here are some choices for the day.
First of all, do I want to get up; the answer to this one is always yes, even if it is only to feed and relieve my guide dog. Next is the choice to go to class; currently it's nearing the end of the semester, and I have to go to class to turn in papers, get final notes, and take exams. Do I want to take my cane, which could be painful depending if my muscles are stiff and my joints don't want to move as easily as they should, or do I want to take my guide dog, who has lately not been guiding well. Do I want to take the long way to class or take the shortcut which gives me an extra five minutes? If I am feeling disoriented, it has just snowed, there is noise and a lot of people around, I sometimes take the long way because it is a straight line and a right turn two blocks from the bus stop. If I have managed to sleep for more than four hours and have had water in the morning, I am more likely to take the zig-zag path across the quad and won't be confused by campus life. The second decision for the day is do I want to get lunch on campus, and if so, where? Sometimes I am just too exhausted by 1:30 that I just head straight to the bus to go to my apartment, even though it is not good for my health or concentration to skip a meal. If I decide to eat on campus, I usually end up at the pizza shop because it has only one line for ordering and checkout, unlike everywhere else that has food; this limits me to unhealthy pizza, strombolis, or wraps, but if i eat at all, it's a good sign. The other place I might choose is the husky lounge; this has sandwiches, grilled food, smoothies, entres, vegetables, and to-go food like apples and bananas. I just can't deal with all the people some days; I start panicking about it an hour or so before I have to go there. I sometimes feel dizzy and I have to keep asking people where the line is and if I am at the end of whatever line I want. Once I get my food from there, I have to find which, out of four registers, is open today, and I sometimes get lost in the place. Also, Dee is sometimes distracted by food on the ground and college students who think it is funny to throw things at her or anyone who wants to approach and ask invasive questions about my blindness or my dog or share info about some disabled person or their pet who died last month or last year. Once I get home with my food, I go to work; I help blind children and adults learn to read Braille, use technology, or learn daily activities like how to cook, tie their shoes, or use the phone. Most days it is children, who usually take the rest of my patience and energy. By the time I get home, do I want to eat dinner? Going to campus to get food is almost always a no; that is time waiting for the bus, a 10-minute ride to campus, at least a 10-minute walk to food, dealing with all the people, and the walk and bus back to the apartment. Since I was tired earlier and went to work, I didn't have time to find someone to take me grocery shopping, so I barely have food in the apartment. I pop in a frozen pizza or ramen noodles, more unhealthy chemically-laden food, or I place an order for delivery. Next is homework. I usually can't concentrate for more than a half hour at a time, which is exacerbated if I do not like the text of the books or research I am reading. It takes me at least an hour to write a page, and when I have to rescan articles, find all of my audio bookmarks, and figure out how to organize the info, I'm exhausted again. This leaves me no energy or time to socialize, which makes the depression worse since I've isolated myself from other people. My thoughts are racing like a hampster on a wheel, which means I get 5.5 hours of sleep on a good night and less than four on a bad one. The cycle of selecting which spoons I can give up starts all over again the next day, and able-bodied neurotypical classmates and friends wonder why some days I choose to sleep on the weekends and only leave to relieve and walk Dee.
Christine's spoons theory basically says that you start the day out with a certain number of spoons, choices energy, and everything else that goes into functioning. Unlike healthy, able-bodied people, it's about making choices of how to accomplish everything. I am totally blind, have mild scoliosis and joint pain, and have depression. The depression manifests itself as inability to concentrate, little motivation to do anything ensomnia and overall tiredness. Healthy people tell me just go and do it; it's no big deal. My response is always, if i could think myself emotional, energetic, and able to do whatever I want, I would do it in a second.
Here are some choices for the day.
First of all, do I want to get up; the answer to this one is always yes, even if it is only to feed and relieve my guide dog. Next is the choice to go to class; currently it's nearing the end of the semester, and I have to go to class to turn in papers, get final notes, and take exams. Do I want to take my cane, which could be painful depending if my muscles are stiff and my joints don't want to move as easily as they should, or do I want to take my guide dog, who has lately not been guiding well. Do I want to take the long way to class or take the shortcut which gives me an extra five minutes? If I am feeling disoriented, it has just snowed, there is noise and a lot of people around, I sometimes take the long way because it is a straight line and a right turn two blocks from the bus stop. If I have managed to sleep for more than four hours and have had water in the morning, I am more likely to take the zig-zag path across the quad and won't be confused by campus life. The second decision for the day is do I want to get lunch on campus, and if so, where? Sometimes I am just too exhausted by 1:30 that I just head straight to the bus to go to my apartment, even though it is not good for my health or concentration to skip a meal. If I decide to eat on campus, I usually end up at the pizza shop because it has only one line for ordering and checkout, unlike everywhere else that has food; this limits me to unhealthy pizza, strombolis, or wraps, but if i eat at all, it's a good sign. The other place I might choose is the husky lounge; this has sandwiches, grilled food, smoothies, entres, vegetables, and to-go food like apples and bananas. I just can't deal with all the people some days; I start panicking about it an hour or so before I have to go there. I sometimes feel dizzy and I have to keep asking people where the line is and if I am at the end of whatever line I want. Once I get my food from there, I have to find which, out of four registers, is open today, and I sometimes get lost in the place. Also, Dee is sometimes distracted by food on the ground and college students who think it is funny to throw things at her or anyone who wants to approach and ask invasive questions about my blindness or my dog or share info about some disabled person or their pet who died last month or last year. Once I get home with my food, I go to work; I help blind children and adults learn to read Braille, use technology, or learn daily activities like how to cook, tie their shoes, or use the phone. Most days it is children, who usually take the rest of my patience and energy. By the time I get home, do I want to eat dinner? Going to campus to get food is almost always a no; that is time waiting for the bus, a 10-minute ride to campus, at least a 10-minute walk to food, dealing with all the people, and the walk and bus back to the apartment. Since I was tired earlier and went to work, I didn't have time to find someone to take me grocery shopping, so I barely have food in the apartment. I pop in a frozen pizza or ramen noodles, more unhealthy chemically-laden food, or I place an order for delivery. Next is homework. I usually can't concentrate for more than a half hour at a time, which is exacerbated if I do not like the text of the books or research I am reading. It takes me at least an hour to write a page, and when I have to rescan articles, find all of my audio bookmarks, and figure out how to organize the info, I'm exhausted again. This leaves me no energy or time to socialize, which makes the depression worse since I've isolated myself from other people. My thoughts are racing like a hampster on a wheel, which means I get 5.5 hours of sleep on a good night and less than four on a bad one. The cycle of selecting which spoons I can give up starts all over again the next day, and able-bodied neurotypical classmates and friends wonder why some days I choose to sleep on the weekends and only leave to relieve and walk Dee.
sad Dee update
Dee is the best guide dog I've had. She has been my travel buddy and helper for the past 1.5 years. I got her NOvember 2009, and we went from Portland Oregon to school. Two weeks later, the semester ended, and we moved to my mother's house for a week for Christmas. After that, we traveled to St. Louis on a 26-hour greyhound buss ride to attend Urbana a global missions conference attended by 20,000 college students. That was the first time I saw Dee's wonderful skills. After the first few hours of being stressed, she handled everything beautifully. Her pace was fast, but she slowed when she needed to. Her head was up, and her whole body was wagging. My roommates and others were amazed at how calm and focused she stayed. She even slept through the worship music which was loud and many people were dancing and jumping up and down.
When Urbana ended, we went to Philly to see friends and moved back to school. In May 2010, I moved to Minneapolis to attend BLIND, Inc. I wrote before about her reactions to a close call with a bus. Also while in Minneapolis we went to the Minnesota fair, an 8-mile hike, and just did everyday activities like going to dinner and movies with friends and grocery shopping. We moved to four different apartments while there and camped in Wisconsin, flew to Dallas to a huge hotel with 3,000 other blind people, and traveled to Chicago and Harrisburg to speak about blindness training. Dee was wonderful through all of that travel and change, so I hated sending this email to Dee's puppy raisers.
Hi Shelley,
Dee is not doing well. She is still a wagging tail dog and glad to see people and be petted, but she isn't guiding. I think I told you we fell on the ice a couple months ago. We went to the vet where they gave her prednazone for the inflamation. It helped for a little while, but as soon as she was off of it she was walking funny again. We went to the dog chiropractor and he adjusted her; it gave her stronger pull in harness some of the time but not enough to be constant. We are having x-rays done; they think it is a nerve or disk injury since she is a little flinchy when they pull her paws forward and is jumpy when I pet her in the middle of her back. My roommates said it sometimes looks like her back legs are going to give out when she is playing with her kong. She is very slow all the time and has difficulty getting out of the way of fast-moving people and traffic. A couple weeks ago, cars were coming up right behind us and she didn't speed up at all. She also has difficulty going uphill and making turns. Right now I am waiting for GDB to decide whether they are sending an instructor here or if they want to bring her back to them for evaluation to see what is wrong and if she can continue working. This makes me sad; I miss my fast-paced energetic girl who had plenty of initiative for everything especially crowd and traffic work. I take her with me if I am going to one class, but if I am doing class and errands afterwards, I leave her home and bring my cane.
I graduate next weekend, and I can't wait to be done here. I got Dee a doggie graduation cap, and I am going to have her guide there since it will be a short walk.
Martha
I thought it might be her nails so I trimmed them. She had a paw pad issue before, so I added paw healing balm and musher's secret but that didn't help either. She is also taking joint supplements that I get from International Association of Assistance Dog Partners Part of me says the medical issue can be fixed; we just don't know what it all is yet and haven't found the right combination of treatment. The other, more practical, part of me says I know the signs of retirement and it won't be able to be fixed. She runs away from and actively avoids the harness. She wags her tail while working, but it isn't as much as it used to be. She doesn't take the initiative to go around obstacles or find a clearer pathway to somewhere. If it took us 10 minutes to get somewhere before, it now takes at least 15 on a good day. I can no longer trust the dog who saved my life from a bus that came too close on the relatively quiet streets of my small town, let alone in a city with all the traveling and moving I need to do in the next three months. Please pray for Dee and me to make the right decision for our partnership.
When Urbana ended, we went to Philly to see friends and moved back to school. In May 2010, I moved to Minneapolis to attend BLIND, Inc. I wrote before about her reactions to a close call with a bus. Also while in Minneapolis we went to the Minnesota fair, an 8-mile hike, and just did everyday activities like going to dinner and movies with friends and grocery shopping. We moved to four different apartments while there and camped in Wisconsin, flew to Dallas to a huge hotel with 3,000 other blind people, and traveled to Chicago and Harrisburg to speak about blindness training. Dee was wonderful through all of that travel and change, so I hated sending this email to Dee's puppy raisers.
Hi Shelley,
Dee is not doing well. She is still a wagging tail dog and glad to see people and be petted, but she isn't guiding. I think I told you we fell on the ice a couple months ago. We went to the vet where they gave her prednazone for the inflamation. It helped for a little while, but as soon as she was off of it she was walking funny again. We went to the dog chiropractor and he adjusted her; it gave her stronger pull in harness some of the time but not enough to be constant. We are having x-rays done; they think it is a nerve or disk injury since she is a little flinchy when they pull her paws forward and is jumpy when I pet her in the middle of her back. My roommates said it sometimes looks like her back legs are going to give out when she is playing with her kong. She is very slow all the time and has difficulty getting out of the way of fast-moving people and traffic. A couple weeks ago, cars were coming up right behind us and she didn't speed up at all. She also has difficulty going uphill and making turns. Right now I am waiting for GDB to decide whether they are sending an instructor here or if they want to bring her back to them for evaluation to see what is wrong and if she can continue working. This makes me sad; I miss my fast-paced energetic girl who had plenty of initiative for everything especially crowd and traffic work. I take her with me if I am going to one class, but if I am doing class and errands afterwards, I leave her home and bring my cane.
I graduate next weekend, and I can't wait to be done here. I got Dee a doggie graduation cap, and I am going to have her guide there since it will be a short walk.
Martha
I thought it might be her nails so I trimmed them. She had a paw pad issue before, so I added paw healing balm and musher's secret but that didn't help either. She is also taking joint supplements that I get from International Association of Assistance Dog Partners Part of me says the medical issue can be fixed; we just don't know what it all is yet and haven't found the right combination of treatment. The other, more practical, part of me says I know the signs of retirement and it won't be able to be fixed. She runs away from and actively avoids the harness. She wags her tail while working, but it isn't as much as it used to be. She doesn't take the initiative to go around obstacles or find a clearer pathway to somewhere. If it took us 10 minutes to get somewhere before, it now takes at least 15 on a good day. I can no longer trust the dog who saved my life from a bus that came too close on the relatively quiet streets of my small town, let alone in a city with all the traveling and moving I need to do in the next three months. Please pray for Dee and me to make the right decision for our partnership.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Unsent Thank yous, getting it right
Ablism can be defined as discriminating against or being prejudiced towards anyone with a visible or invisible disability. This can be shown from the words, such as crazy or lame, to the actions such as excluding someone from a social event or emotional and physical abuse. I'm sure many of the Blogging Against Disablism Day writers will have several posts about ablist language and actions, but that's not what I want to write about here. It is often so easy as a blind person to notice and remember all the times people have been rude, invaded my personal space, distracted my guide dog, denied us access, or didn't give me a chance once they realized I was blind and associated that with lack of ability and intelligence. However, there have been several people, especially in education, who gave me an opportunity with expectations that I would succeed.
Dear Mrs. Lowe:
Thank you for being the first person to encourage my dreams of journalism. You not only saw my potential to write articles, but you assigned me to be the copy editor for the yearbook when I had no previous experience. This was my first time in a leadership position, where I learned the importance of speaking up to others as well as many of the rules for line, structural, and content editing. There were no problems; everyone gave me the work on disks, so the content was immediately accessible.
Dear Dr. Brasch:
Thank you for teaching me much about all aspects of journalism. I learned how to come up with more and more story ideas, even when I thought I was exhausted. When my story draft wasn't exactly what you wanted you made me go back and fix it to your specifications, even if it took six times to do it. You showed me how to promote the magazine in everything from baking and selling cookies to making balloons and painting with children at the local fair. You made me go to local businesses and get ads and distribute magazines, especially to places I've never been before. You made me copy editor and later a senior editor/main fact checker in charge of proofing all articles for accuracy. You told me I was going to lecture in front of your class of 250 students because I would be able to do a good job of discussing disability in the media and social justice. You came down hard on me when I missed deadlines and wasn't giving it my best because you knew I was capable of more than that. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of a team that had nothing to do with blindness.
Dear people on the study abroad trip to Guatemala,
Thank you for welcoming me as just another volunteer without the awkward, uncomfortable silence that so often greets me. On that trip, I learned to paint road lines, brick walls, and the ceiling of the medical clinic even though it terrified me to be so high up on a ladder. I went through the Mayan ruins, to the outdoor markets, and learned to make tortillas. After we went horseback riding up the mountain to see a volcano, thank you for helping me balance; after I dismounted, I was having severe hip pain because of my scoliosis and you helped me to walk the rest of the way to the lava without making a big deal.
Dear Dr. Podeschi,
Thank you for all the extra work you put into making the coding analysis program accessible. After having negative experiences with professors, especially one that semester who said I shouldn't bother him and he wasn't going to help me and should ask another student for computer assistance I was pleasantly shocked with your patience and creative solutions. It is one of the most visual-based programs that I have seen, and using a macro program to write computer scripts using keystrokes was a wonderful idea. You didn't have to spend at least 4 hours with the initial setup of Atlas TI and an additional 4 or five hours fixing all the bugs and crashes each time a new technical issue arose. Also, thanks for all the research project articles and suggestions for improving my independent study.
Dear Michael Collins,
Thank you for making intro to theater such a memorable and fun class. It was one of the best ones I've taken during my college career, and I loved your endless stories and the non-powerpoint way you lectured. I usually need to ask for accomodations, but you automatically gave me exams on a flash drive and emailed me any documents, ahead of time, that I would need for class that day. Finally, thank you for taking the initiative to auditorially describe the settings, costume, and actions in the plays and films we watched. I didn't even have to ask, you just came to sit near me and started talking about everything as if it were the most natural action in the world.
Sincerely,
Martha, an appreciative student
Dear Mrs. Lowe:
Thank you for being the first person to encourage my dreams of journalism. You not only saw my potential to write articles, but you assigned me to be the copy editor for the yearbook when I had no previous experience. This was my first time in a leadership position, where I learned the importance of speaking up to others as well as many of the rules for line, structural, and content editing. There were no problems; everyone gave me the work on disks, so the content was immediately accessible.
Dear Dr. Brasch:
Thank you for teaching me much about all aspects of journalism. I learned how to come up with more and more story ideas, even when I thought I was exhausted. When my story draft wasn't exactly what you wanted you made me go back and fix it to your specifications, even if it took six times to do it. You showed me how to promote the magazine in everything from baking and selling cookies to making balloons and painting with children at the local fair. You made me go to local businesses and get ads and distribute magazines, especially to places I've never been before. You made me copy editor and later a senior editor/main fact checker in charge of proofing all articles for accuracy. You told me I was going to lecture in front of your class of 250 students because I would be able to do a good job of discussing disability in the media and social justice. You came down hard on me when I missed deadlines and wasn't giving it my best because you knew I was capable of more than that. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of a team that had nothing to do with blindness.
Dear people on the study abroad trip to Guatemala,
Thank you for welcoming me as just another volunteer without the awkward, uncomfortable silence that so often greets me. On that trip, I learned to paint road lines, brick walls, and the ceiling of the medical clinic even though it terrified me to be so high up on a ladder. I went through the Mayan ruins, to the outdoor markets, and learned to make tortillas. After we went horseback riding up the mountain to see a volcano, thank you for helping me balance; after I dismounted, I was having severe hip pain because of my scoliosis and you helped me to walk the rest of the way to the lava without making a big deal.
Dear Dr. Podeschi,
Thank you for all the extra work you put into making the coding analysis program accessible. After having negative experiences with professors, especially one that semester who said I shouldn't bother him and he wasn't going to help me and should ask another student for computer assistance I was pleasantly shocked with your patience and creative solutions. It is one of the most visual-based programs that I have seen, and using a macro program to write computer scripts using keystrokes was a wonderful idea. You didn't have to spend at least 4 hours with the initial setup of Atlas TI and an additional 4 or five hours fixing all the bugs and crashes each time a new technical issue arose. Also, thanks for all the research project articles and suggestions for improving my independent study.
Dear Michael Collins,
Thank you for making intro to theater such a memorable and fun class. It was one of the best ones I've taken during my college career, and I loved your endless stories and the non-powerpoint way you lectured. I usually need to ask for accomodations, but you automatically gave me exams on a flash drive and emailed me any documents, ahead of time, that I would need for class that day. Finally, thank you for taking the initiative to auditorially describe the settings, costume, and actions in the plays and films we watched. I didn't even have to ask, you just came to sit near me and started talking about everything as if it were the most natural action in the world.
Sincerely,
Martha, an appreciative student
Sunday, April 17, 2011
staying in touch
This is one of several upcoming posts I'm bringing over from my other blog.
Working with a guide dog involves many people: the people at the breeding station, the staff who cares for them in the kennels, and the trainers who teach them how to guide. However, the puppy raisers and the people who have them after they retire are an important part of the process.
I received my first guide Valerie in July 2006. At first I agreed with other students that I didn't want contact; I don't remember why, but that's how it started. A couple months later, I changed my mind. We received a puppy profile with basic info: name, age, what kind of environment, habbits of the puppy, how did the puppy let you know when it wanted to relieve ETC, but I wanted to know more. I also started to think that if I had raised a dog for a year, I would want to know how he or she was since it was like losing a family member with no idea what happened for the rest of his or her life. My puppy paper had the first names of the main raiser, her sister and brother, and the parents. I did a search online and found their last name. I found the main raiser on one of the social networking sites and sent her a message letting her know I had her former puppy and asking if she and her family would want to stay in contact. At first, she thought I had the wrong person, since Valerie's name didn't match. I knew that since Valerie was a reissue, a dog that had a previous handler, that she had another name. After we confirmed my information was correct, we started chatting on AIM, and I got to learn fun things about my dog. Valerie was the focus of her senior project for high school, so she was used to being busy and surrounded by lots of people. She went to volleyball games, bowling, the mall, and the airport. She had dog and cat friends, and she loved to cuddle with anyone who would hold her. She knew bed time, and she would come down the stairs to stair at people to come with her. I shared info about how it was to work with her in college. I told her how my French professor always pretended to offer Valerie coffee and tell me seeing her made him feel better on bad days. She loved to curl up in a beanbag chair and take a nap. She did a good job guiding through crowds of students, and I had never felt comfortable walking that fast before I got a guide dog. I also shared my struggles. How I got hopelessly lost for the first three weeks going to class on a new campus every day, how she would sometimes not move faster even with correction, and that she would scavenge for food on the ground.
Once we had been chatting for a couple of months, I said they could come visit Valerie and me if they wanted to. We met, and that was awesome. We talked for a couple of hours, while everyone petted Valerie and gave her beloved belly rubs. They took lots of pictures, and they gave us presents. There was a squeaky hamburger and a nylabone; Valerie of course has destroyed the nylabone, but she still has the burger. They also gave me a water bowl/bottle holder, a bone keychain, and my favorite, a photo album. It shows her from the day they got her at two months old to the postcard they received in the mail from when she was in training at The Seeing Eye; it is one of the things that is always with me, no matter how many times I have moved since 2006. We also met again a few months later when I went to their house for the weekend. It was great getting to see where Valerie was raised. I learned she loved to sit on a certain step and stare out the window at all the people passing by. She loved to chase snowballs with the other dogs in the family. She knew how to balance a treat on her nose, throw it up in the air, and catch it before it hit the floor. We went to the mall, a bookstore, and the movies, where they got to see Valerie guide and do her job well.
Over the next few months, I began to realize that we wouldn't make it long as a team. I called the school every three months or so with maor issues; they would straighten out for awhile, but then something new would happen. I also noticed her continuing health problems with infections and tiredness. It was eventually determined that she was stressed and had alergies to chicken, wheat, rice, and 17 other outdoor-related things. I was worried that they would be upset or angry that Valerie wasn't going to be working for a long time, but they were awesome and supportive.
When she retired, it took me a few months to find and decide on a final home for Valerie. The school would have gladly placed her in a loving home, but again, I wanted contact and would have had none if I had gone that route. She is now with one of my former roommates friend's parents about an hour away from where I go to school. I forwarded the puppy raisers the new contact info, and they went to visit her once she had been settled. The lady who has her now and I send emails every few months; I ask how she is, and she shares stories. Valerie goes for walks a couple times per day; I taught her with clicker and treats, and Valerie continues getting treats for sitting at the corner and other things. One day, she refused to move from the corner and cross the street till she received her reward. She chases grasshoppers, loves to steal tomatoes from the garden, and has dog and human friends, especially the little children in the family. I have seen Valerie twice since she retired almost 2.5 years ago. She is happy, healthy, and stress-free, and that is all I wanted for her.
As her raiser told me, "inside the heart of every dog guide beats the heart of a puppy raiser." I also say inside every former guide dog is the love of a handler who always tried to make the right decision for the dog based on his/her needs, even if it was hard hurt at the time.
This is my submission for The Second Assistance Dog Blog Carnival I hope you take the time to read posts by others who made decisions involving assistance dogs.
Working with a guide dog involves many people: the people at the breeding station, the staff who cares for them in the kennels, and the trainers who teach them how to guide. However, the puppy raisers and the people who have them after they retire are an important part of the process.
I received my first guide Valerie in July 2006. At first I agreed with other students that I didn't want contact; I don't remember why, but that's how it started. A couple months later, I changed my mind. We received a puppy profile with basic info: name, age, what kind of environment, habbits of the puppy, how did the puppy let you know when it wanted to relieve ETC, but I wanted to know more. I also started to think that if I had raised a dog for a year, I would want to know how he or she was since it was like losing a family member with no idea what happened for the rest of his or her life. My puppy paper had the first names of the main raiser, her sister and brother, and the parents. I did a search online and found their last name. I found the main raiser on one of the social networking sites and sent her a message letting her know I had her former puppy and asking if she and her family would want to stay in contact. At first, she thought I had the wrong person, since Valerie's name didn't match. I knew that since Valerie was a reissue, a dog that had a previous handler, that she had another name. After we confirmed my information was correct, we started chatting on AIM, and I got to learn fun things about my dog. Valerie was the focus of her senior project for high school, so she was used to being busy and surrounded by lots of people. She went to volleyball games, bowling, the mall, and the airport. She had dog and cat friends, and she loved to cuddle with anyone who would hold her. She knew bed time, and she would come down the stairs to stair at people to come with her. I shared info about how it was to work with her in college. I told her how my French professor always pretended to offer Valerie coffee and tell me seeing her made him feel better on bad days. She loved to curl up in a beanbag chair and take a nap. She did a good job guiding through crowds of students, and I had never felt comfortable walking that fast before I got a guide dog. I also shared my struggles. How I got hopelessly lost for the first three weeks going to class on a new campus every day, how she would sometimes not move faster even with correction, and that she would scavenge for food on the ground.
Once we had been chatting for a couple of months, I said they could come visit Valerie and me if they wanted to. We met, and that was awesome. We talked for a couple of hours, while everyone petted Valerie and gave her beloved belly rubs. They took lots of pictures, and they gave us presents. There was a squeaky hamburger and a nylabone; Valerie of course has destroyed the nylabone, but she still has the burger. They also gave me a water bowl/bottle holder, a bone keychain, and my favorite, a photo album. It shows her from the day they got her at two months old to the postcard they received in the mail from when she was in training at The Seeing Eye; it is one of the things that is always with me, no matter how many times I have moved since 2006. We also met again a few months later when I went to their house for the weekend. It was great getting to see where Valerie was raised. I learned she loved to sit on a certain step and stare out the window at all the people passing by. She loved to chase snowballs with the other dogs in the family. She knew how to balance a treat on her nose, throw it up in the air, and catch it before it hit the floor. We went to the mall, a bookstore, and the movies, where they got to see Valerie guide and do her job well.
Over the next few months, I began to realize that we wouldn't make it long as a team. I called the school every three months or so with maor issues; they would straighten out for awhile, but then something new would happen. I also noticed her continuing health problems with infections and tiredness. It was eventually determined that she was stressed and had alergies to chicken, wheat, rice, and 17 other outdoor-related things. I was worried that they would be upset or angry that Valerie wasn't going to be working for a long time, but they were awesome and supportive.
When she retired, it took me a few months to find and decide on a final home for Valerie. The school would have gladly placed her in a loving home, but again, I wanted contact and would have had none if I had gone that route. She is now with one of my former roommates friend's parents about an hour away from where I go to school. I forwarded the puppy raisers the new contact info, and they went to visit her once she had been settled. The lady who has her now and I send emails every few months; I ask how she is, and she shares stories. Valerie goes for walks a couple times per day; I taught her with clicker and treats, and Valerie continues getting treats for sitting at the corner and other things. One day, she refused to move from the corner and cross the street till she received her reward. She chases grasshoppers, loves to steal tomatoes from the garden, and has dog and human friends, especially the little children in the family. I have seen Valerie twice since she retired almost 2.5 years ago. She is happy, healthy, and stress-free, and that is all I wanted for her.
As her raiser told me, "inside the heart of every dog guide beats the heart of a puppy raiser." I also say inside every former guide dog is the love of a handler who always tried to make the right decision for the dog based on his/her needs, even if it was hard hurt at the time.
This is my submission for The Second Assistance Dog Blog Carnival I hope you take the time to read posts by others who made decisions involving assistance dogs.
college reflections
At this time in three weeks, I will have graduated with my BA. I can't believe it is finally happening. College didn't go the way I had planned. At the end of high school, I was enthusiastic and eager to go. The first couple weeks were hard; I spent so much time getting lost, getting accustomed to my new guide dog, and scanning textbooks. I made friends in some of my classes. We started eating lunch together every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I loved my classes, and I made Dean's list both semesters my freshman year. I thought that pattern would continue, but it ididn't. I took summer classes, and I had an amazing intro to theater professor. He had endless stories about plays he had worked on and written. I also took a world politics class with a professor from Gana who used to do something with the United Nations. However, I was so alone. I didn't have a roommate, and no one I knew was taking classes.
Sophomore year started with a guide dog access issue, financial problems, and an 18-credit course load. I wrote before that is when my depression started. I didn't care about my work. The next semester, I sent Valerie to a new home, got my second guide dog Zorro, and finished the year. I was also alone my junior year when I crashed. I didn't get out of bed, skipped classes at least 50% of the time, and failed my internship. Zorro went back to the guide dog school and was reissued to a wonderful second handler.
I started to realize I hated journalism and didn't want to do it any more, but I was too many credits and too many lab hours in to change. Senior year was better. I got Dee, had awesome friends and roommates, and started to put my life back together. I took off the fall semester to go to blind inc; I think I will post my entries from there. this semester, I'm just biding my time; I'm already mentally gone from here.
I've learned a lot from college, some fun things and some serious.
Just because someone has a PHD does not mean he or she necessarily has common sense or tact
there are some unbelieveably kind and helpful professors who give me hope for education
It is ok to fail; sometimes it can lead to better opportunities
it is a good idea to eat food before drinking and not mix drinks
Sharing problems with a friend is wsonderful, even if they don't give advice and just listen
People lose their sense when they see dogs, or they scream bloody murder and run to the other side of the sidewalk
Walking at 2 am isn't as scarey as some people like to make it seam.
People who go to midnight pizza and bingo can be vicious.
Drunk students shouldn't be allowed to sing Sweet Caroline; they make up their own words and the song is never the same again.
Getting an education is a privilege, and I wish I could remember that more often.
Sophomore year started with a guide dog access issue, financial problems, and an 18-credit course load. I wrote before that is when my depression started. I didn't care about my work. The next semester, I sent Valerie to a new home, got my second guide dog Zorro, and finished the year. I was also alone my junior year when I crashed. I didn't get out of bed, skipped classes at least 50% of the time, and failed my internship. Zorro went back to the guide dog school and was reissued to a wonderful second handler.
I started to realize I hated journalism and didn't want to do it any more, but I was too many credits and too many lab hours in to change. Senior year was better. I got Dee, had awesome friends and roommates, and started to put my life back together. I took off the fall semester to go to blind inc; I think I will post my entries from there. this semester, I'm just biding my time; I'm already mentally gone from here.
I've learned a lot from college, some fun things and some serious.
Just because someone has a PHD does not mean he or she necessarily has common sense or tact
there are some unbelieveably kind and helpful professors who give me hope for education
It is ok to fail; sometimes it can lead to better opportunities
it is a good idea to eat food before drinking and not mix drinks
Sharing problems with a friend is wsonderful, even if they don't give advice and just listen
People lose their sense when they see dogs, or they scream bloody murder and run to the other side of the sidewalk
Walking at 2 am isn't as scarey as some people like to make it seam.
People who go to midnight pizza and bingo can be vicious.
Drunk students shouldn't be allowed to sing Sweet Caroline; they make up their own words and the song is never the same again.
Getting an education is a privilege, and I wish I could remember that more often.
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