I get asked all the time what the hardest thing about being blind is. People naturally assume it’s not being able to drive or read or… well, there are a million things that are really hard about being blind. Bruises. Isolation. Dependence. Those are some things about blindness that are really, really hard. But, then there’s having to constantly manage my frustration with being slow at tasks or even flat-out unable to do something without help.
Middle-age affords some luxuries – the ability to make honest assessments and new choices.
I remember when I first felt such empowerment. It began the morning I sat upon the paper-wrapped examining table for my annual exam. I had sat on that table every January for the past six years, and each time, I felt the same chill and entertained the same thoughts.
“I really don’t like this doctor.”
Then I would remind myself, “You don’t need to like her; you just need to respect her expertise.”
I argued back to myself, “She is cold and has no bedside manner.”
“She doesn’t have to be your best friend, just competent.”