Brenda Rodgers

I had a regularly scheduled checkup with my PCP today.   I arrived, checked in at the desk and found out my provider had left some three months ago and hadn't I gotten a call about it to cancel and reschedule me?   I hadn't gotten a call, of that I was sure.   Later, another person said maybe they had physically mailed patients about the departure.  And then there was another person who thought it was email they had sent to the patients.  

It didn't matter much at that point as I was standing there in the office and was hopeful I could be seen.   There happened to be an opening a half-hour later with a doctor I'd never seen before.   They got me back in much less than a half-hour and I had a very nice time meeting her and discussing the relevant points of my medical history.   I was out about the time I would have gotten out with my original appointment and I had a new doctor I quite liked.

I needed to schedule another follow-up in six months and had been sent back up to the front to the check-in area to reschedule there.   As I came out I saw a man quickly ushering a woman with a blind cane into the office.   He positioned her at the front of the line (as there was no one else there) and then tried to leave.   She asked him some questions about what she needed to do and where she was in the office and he said something like, "you just stand there and they'll call you up."

She was clearly confused.  Or wait, I shouldn't say that.  To me, I understood her confusion.   To the man, he had no idea, because he didn't have experience with blind people.   He didn't realize she was just thrust into a space of unknown size with unknown furnishings, obstacles or layout.  She didn't know which way to face or what was going to happen other than, "they'll call you up."  

I walked up to her and said, "Hello, my daughter is blind.  Can I help?"  She gently grabbed my hand that I had placed on her arm and asked me if I would make sure she didn't lose her place in line.  I explained she was first and I'd help her get to the counter when they called her.   She and I chatted for about another minute before one of the staff called, "next" and then we walked to the counter together before I backed away for her privacy.

She said in a kindly yet worried way, "don't leave."  I said I wasn't in any hurry and I'd wait until she was checked in.   I was called next and made my appointment while she gave credit card and identification as well as answered questions to the person beside me.

When we were done we took seats beside each other and talked about my daughter and discovered both she and my daughter had lost their vision starting with an infection.   Ultimately she had to have both eyes removed.  In one, she had a prosthesis, the other socket remained empty.   She was wearing regular sunglasses so it wasn't apparent.

I talked to her about how my daughter didn't like to use her cane.  She told me to tell her she should use her cane!  It was at that point we realized we hadn't introduced ourselves.   She said to tell my daughter Brenda Rodgers said to use her cane, that it was a good thing.

Brenda has a guide dog and we discussed how it was looking more and more like my daughter would want to have one when she's old enough.   He love of animals and desire to own a pet store when she grows up makes me believe she will love to have a companion with her that also functions as a way to keep her safe.   We have about ten years to go before we'll know for sure.

About that cane: if Brenda hadn't had the cane, I wouldn't have realized she was blind and wouldn't have offered to help her.   The cane is definitely important.   Brenda's name was called just then and as she stood up the nurse asked if we were together.  We said no although I said I was available if she needed help.  I wasn't needed at all though because the nurse knew just what to do, asking Brenda how she preferred to be guided back.  

In the car later in the day, I told my daughter about Brenda and her eyes and how she had lost them to infection.   My daughter has never heard of someone losing their eyes entirely before.  She asked some questions.   And, of course, I passed on Brenda's message that she should use her cane.  

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Picky Conversation:
My daughter is having difficulty with EVERYTHING.   I tell you, it's only getting worse.   More on that in a future post.   Tonight she was bemoaning the dessert choices (there were many options from the freezer, her favorite dessert location).  My son said, "for Christmas I want Reese not to be picky."  My daughter retorted, "you can't choose my attitude!"