This morning I had to pull Lucy out of handbells to take her to a doctor appointment at a low vision resource center. Her eyes are getting worse quite rapidly. Sometimes it’s alarming. And sometimes it’s just sad. But all the time it makes a spot in my heart ache. I try to brush it off, and do my best to bury it but it is still there. And we’ve got to be constantly aware as to how to help that girl assimilate in a continually more blurry world.
The other day I got a call from the school nurse because Lucy had tripped over a curb coming in from a field trip, she was all scraped up and her braces were caught on her top, bloody lip. She has come in from that curb hundreds of times but this time she just didn’t see it.
She needs to start using a white cane but she is feistily against it. She also needs to use the resources her vision teacher introduces but she’s mostly against that too. Her vision teacher called the other day to tell me that Lucy was a little angry in class that day when she couldn’t see something she wanted her to read. Bless that vision teacher’s heart, she gave her the benefit of the doubt and knew that she is simply worried, and obviously frustrated. Lucy doesn’t want to admit that she may need more help than the other kids do. She doesn’t want to be different. No kids do, do they?
In preparation for this appointment today Lu and I had a little heart-to-heart. I tried to explain that it’s really ok to use these low-vision aids she’s being offered. We can explain to the other kids why she “gets” to use the magnifiers and lights and different computer she’s being offered. And for the first time ever, Lucy broke down and told me how sad she is that she can’t see. She’s usually very matter-of-fact with it all and acts like it’s no big deal.
But it is a big deal when your surroundings continue to get more and more out of focus and you can’t do what you used to be able to. I can’t even imagine.
Which brought us to this low vision doctor today who I was so grateful to meet. Lucy’s vision teacher came with us to the appointment (how awesome is that?), and we got such a great, thorough evaluation. We found out that her peripheral vision has drastically reduced (which we already knew, but not to that extend) and her contrast vision is rapidly declining as well.
She recommended Lucy start using a telescope thing when she wants to see things that are far away, strongly recommended we get going with cane therapy, and gave us these little yellow insert things to go behind her glasses to cut down on the glare.
At first Lucy was mad I was telling her to at least give them a try, but by the time we pulled into the school she decided she wanted to keep wearing them, and bid me a happy goodbye with those yellow things clipped to the inside of her glasses.
Now I’m heading to pick her up for lunch…a late birthday lunch she won’t let me forget:) We’ll see if she’s still got them on.
This is mostly just a bunch of rambling, but I want to remember this morning, and the good people and resources we have to help us through this blurry journey.
It’s blurry for all of us in such different ways.