When I became blind one of the groups of people I struggled with the most was not children but the Latino community. They were polite while speaking English at bars, coffee shops, and restaurants, but as soon as I began to speak in Spanish, they would flock to my side to share remedies that could possibly get me my sight back. Some involved prayer while other antidotes were radical dietary regimens such as drinking horse radish tea for one year or eating five carrots everyday. (more…)
Posts Tagged ‘San Francisco’
I arrived at the Yoga studio where I was welcomed by serene music, possibly Enya, and asked the room, “Where do I sign up?” A calm voice answered, “Hi there, I’m so happy you’re here. Will your dog be showing you the movements?” Assuming the woman was joking, I replied, “Absolutely! Her favorite pose is the downward facing dog.” I chuckled and was startled when I heard the same woman cry, “Wow, that is great that she can do that for you.” Before I could think of anything to say I heard the woman shout, (more…)
I hate my white cane and although I had given it a name to help me bond with it, Raising Cane was getting on my nerves. He refused to walk a straight line and insisted on greeting all the cracks and bumps along 14th Street. However, I reminded myself about how much my beloved guide dog Madge deserved the monthly visit to the doggie spa to reward her hard work. I squeezed the rubber grip on the white stick and mentally told Raising Cane that in a few hours, he would go back in the closet. A place I was unfamiliar with, but heard really sucked.
I was preparing to cross the street and paused to listen to the traffic for a few minutes. I was about to take a step forward when I heard a man shout, “Wait! I gotcha!” I smelled citrus cologne and was stunned to feel a pair of very strong arms lift and throw me over a muscular shoulder. (more…)