Daily Challenges – Page 4 – DoubleVision Blog

What Newborns, Airports and Eye Contact All Have In Common

So the doublevision family has grown, as Jenelle welcomed Baby Ben into the family on Easter Day!

I just had the privilege of heading out to the northwest to spend a week with my favorite twin and her new, little (well big– now almost 10 lbs!) bundle, along with her adorable, active preschooler and amazing husband.

Obviously, traveling from the Midwest up to the Cascade mountains took some traveling. And if there’s anything that stresses me out about traveling, it’s airports. While I’m still stubborn about not using my cane, airports are one place that I really won’t enter without my trusty colored stick. Continue reading →

Overcoming the Winter Blues

Winter funk first hit me a few weeks ago (no, not that scary, Australian super-virus though the threat of it definitely adds to the funk). Like many Midwesterners with cabin fever, I tried escaping it by going on a short girls’ getaway (though we couldn’t afford anywhere warm!). And that sufficed while I was away, but the day-to-day was still waiting for me when I returned. Continue reading “Overcoming the Winter Blues” →

Old Habits Dying Hard

Being misunderstood is something we really don’t like as humans, especially if we are of the people-pleasing variety.

Beginning in middle school and continuing through college and into adulthood, I have heard comments such as, “I waved to you but you walked right by me”, “you totally dissed me”, “Why don’t you ever say hi to me when I pass by?” and so on.

Some of my most embarrassing/humiliating/humbling moments include scenarios surrounding these phrases. These moments include missing high-fives, not acknowledging someone i’ve known for awhile, calling a long-time friend by the wrong name when I first see them, and failing to shake people’s hands. And these are just the scenarios I am aware of, and many times because other people have told me about my faux pas after-the-fact. I am sure there are countless other incidents that I am unaware of. Continue reading “Old Habits Dying Hard” →

Do Better

My husband and I like to tease a friend of ours for his harsh response to a fast-food worker who messed up his order 3 times. She had all sorts of excuses for why she kept messing up the order, and he was sick of listening to it, so he looked straight at her and said “Do Better”. We thought it was a bit of an over-reaction and didn’t offer her much grace. I know we all make mistakes, especially at work. But after the week I’ve had, I feel like I want to shout “DO BETTER” to the world.

I hesitate to even write this post as I don’t want it to come across as a wild rant or pity party. I doubt most people enjoy reading a rant any more than they like listening to one. So I will try my best to explain what the last 3 days have been like for me without overstating my frustration. I also want to apologize in advance for the amount of details I’ve included in the below timeline of events. It’s boring to say the least, but I think the details are necessary to understand my story.

On Monday, I had an appointment at Seattle Harborview Medical Center’s Eye Institute. My husband took the day off work in order to drive me to and from my appointment and keep me company through the long list of tests I needed. (note: We live 2 and half hours away from the eye clinic.) It had been quite some time since I had all the tests necessary to make sure I don’t have glaucoma or cataracts (people with RP are more likely to develop those conditions), visual acuity exam, peripheral fields test, and pictures of my retina. I needed this comprehensive list of tests in order to apply for cane training services. When I arrived at my appointment, I handed the medical technician a 5 page form from the WA Department of Services for the Blind (DSB). She looked over the paperwork and told me the doctor would be able to complete the forms after all the tests were finished. I then spent the next 5 hours in Harborview’s eye clinic, most of which was spent sitting in the waiting room with elderly people.

During my 5 hour stay, they did a basic eye exam (charts, letters, lights – something similar to what most people receive at their optometrist), received drops for the pressure tests (glaucoma, cataracts), and posed for a glamorous retina photo shoot. I was examined by several resident doctors and observed by a young medical student as well. Four and half hours into my appointment, I finally got the chance to meet with Dr. Chou, the ophthalmologist and retina specialist. She explained that she was sorry for the misunderstanding, but I had been scheduled at the wrong clinic. I should have been at the clinic across the street where they do all the testing for retinal degenerative diseases (field tests, laser scans, etc). She was not sure why the person scheduling my appointment had not sent me there in the first place or why no one had caught this mistake earlier in the day, but assured me she would speak to her clinic manager about the issue. She was unable to complete my paperwork for DSB because the only tests they had completed showed that my central vision was still in tact and well above what would qualify for any type of services. I was supposed to have my forms complete for my DSB appointment the following morning, so I had to change my DSB appointment to Wednesday afternoon and go back to Harborview on Tuesday to have the correct tests.

Luckily I was able to stay at a friend’s house in the Seattle area, but my husband could not drive me to the new appointment because he had to work. So I paid $47.50 for a taxi to take me to Harborview on Tuesday morning. I requested a reimbursement from Harborview considering their scheduling mistake, but was told “that’s not something we do”. Once I arrived at the correct clinic, the tests and paperwork were completed in under an hour with no time in the waiting room. Now fast forward to my DSB appointment on Wednesday afternoon. Just getting to the DSB office was challenging in itself because my morning sickness suddenly returned while I was in the backseat of a swerving taxi that smelled strongly of curry mixed with incense. I somehow managed not to lose it in the cab, but I was green with nausea by the time I stumbled into the DSB office. A kind case manager shared her crackers with me and brought me water. I then met with an equally kind case manager who asked me all sorts of questions about the type of work I had done in the past and what type of work I would like to do in the future. I was confused by her questions as I thought I was at this appointment to talk about my vision challenges and cane training. When I steered the conversation away from work and towards cane training, the counselor was the one who looked confused. She then explained to me that the DSB mainly provides job services for people with vision disabilities, and that they don’t have funding for just cane training. She profusely apologized for the misunderstanding, but told me that the person who scheduled my appointment should have asked me if I was looking for cane training as part of an active job search. She also indicated she had a feeling she knows who I spoke with initially and that she will follow-up on the issue. This was all beginning to sound too familiar.

I am a well-educated, intelligent, assertive, middle-class, fluent English speaker who cannot effectively navigate our health and government services. I grimace at the thought of what elderly, uneducated, mentally disabled, immigrant, limited English-speaking individuals go through to obtain the proper health care and government services they need. I know there are plenty of sick people and disenfranchised individuals that have to trudge through this confusion on a daily basis, and I honestly cannot comprehend how they do it.

Now here’s the rant I promised not to indulge in. Considering the current economy where so many people are out of work and the job market has grown more competitive, I am surprised that Harborview and the DSB cannot find more competent people to answer their phones and schedule appointments. I know that I have a rare eye disease that not many people are familiar with, even within the medical field, but all these individuals had to do was spend a few extra minutes on the phone with me to avoid a whole mess of confusion that cost me time and money. Looking back, it seems that the main goal of these receptionists was to get me off the phone as soon as possible rather than responding to my actual requests. It would have taken very little effort for them to “do better”.

My mom always encouraged me to see the positive in any situation, so here goes. The Harborview ophthalmologist invited me to participate in a stem cell research project she is working on following my pregnancy. Although she cannot promise any grand results, it is a rare opportunity for me to see how my actual stem cells react to various trial drugs. (they use my cells in a petri dish, so it is non-invasive) In addition, I learned a lot about DSB services that could benefit me in the future when I return to work. Meanwhile, I am looking into other options for cane training in my state. I’ve decided that I will ask to speak to multiple individuals before scheduling my next appointment to make sure I am being told the correct information over the phone. Then hopefully I can avoid telling anyone to “do better”.

Take it Easy

My grandpa Bob passed away a little over three years ago, and yet I still remember vivid details about him. Like the way he would gently say “Easy now” to anyone acting a little too rough. Actually, that was his response for a lot of situations – when his wife shouted bossy commands, when my siblings and I fought, when someone cut him off in traffic. I can sometimes hear his soft words as if he’s still right next to me telling me to just take it easy. And although I have so many other fond memories of my grandpa; I think that “easy now” is my favorite because it’s something that reminds me to calm down and be kind to myself and others just as he was. Continue reading “Take it Easy” →

When Life Reverses: Part 2

It’s Sunday night, and I”m tired. But it’s a good tired. Ben and I played a lot with the kids today. And we put on rain boots and jackets and went splashing through puddles as we walked to Lou Malnati’s for pizza in the pouring rain.

And I was reminded today, as I was throughout this whole past week, how life reverses both ways. From perfect, sunny days that turn rainy all the way back to rainy days that turn out to be fun despite the puddles. Or perhaps, because of the puddles.

To give you the end of last Friday’s story, Lucy continued to cry all the way home. When she continued to sob at home, I got desparate for something to calm her and went up to my closet where I store future Christmas gifts (yes, I know it’s only August, and I’m ridiculous for starting already, but I pretty much am a single-parent the month of December since my husband is in ministry, so I like to just get it done early). Anyways, I went in the bin and grabbed the one thing she has been asking for the past year that I finally found on ebay– a retro Rainbow Brite doll (yup, that’s what I get for thinking I’m a sly, early shopper– the best gift is already ruined!)

And as I’m handing it to her, an even larger feeling of guilt sweeps over me as I realize that I’m instilling a materialistic comfort habit that will probably lead to her becoming an emotional shopaholic one day. (honestly when I told my husband about everything, he was completely understanding about the stroller accident, as something similar happened with him and Lucy and a bike a couple years ago, but he was really upset that I pulled the doll out!)

It did the temproary job of calming her down, however, and reassured me that the crying (which ceased immediately) was dragging on more out of fear than pain.

But as quickly as her tears vanished, mine appeared. An old friend had stopped by to see our new house, and as I was showing her the upstairs, I felt my voice break and I couldn’t compose myself. She, of course, told me that I was being too hard on myself and that she had done so many similar things when her boys were young.

And you know what? Throughout the entire past week, I received comments and e-mails from people, sharing their “guilt stories” of ways their kids were injured on their account. And while a couple of the stories honestly disturbed me, they really did help. A couple of them even made me laugh and smile to myself.

And as my week progressed, I realized that there are a ton of reversals that occur in the span of a week, or even a day for that matter. And sometimes life seems to reverse on its own when we give it a moment…..like when Lucy was pouting on Wednesday because there was a toy she wanted that I wouldn’t get her at the store. She ran into her room and shut the door, and I was too frustrated to try to reason with her, so I just sat on my bed and read with Elli, feeling like I had created this material=hungry little blonde monster. But to my surprise, a few minutes later, she came hopping up on my lap and thrust a handmade card in my face that said, “I’m sorry mom. I love you, daddy, and Elli more than things.” followed by a great, big bear hug.

And while I beamed and hugged her on Wednesday, I found myself feeling irritated on Thursday when both girls were whining and kept begging to watch tv all afternoon. I kept waiting for the day to reverse on its own– for the girls to come prancing up to me with handmade cards again that said “We will never whine again and we don’t even care about tv!” But the cards never came. And I kept thinking, “Why does it take so much to make them happy?”

And it was then that I realized that it was my frame of mind that needed a reversal– not my day. I got out some play doh and sat on the porch with Lucy while Elli took a little snooze in her stroller near us. We sat and chatted and played, and it seemed like just that hour of one-on-one attention turned the whole rest of the day around. She frolicked around the house the rest of the night, singing little songs.

And I kept thinking, “wow, it takes so little to make kids happy.”

So I guess this is just how life is– one reversal after another. And while it often takes so little to turn it around, it does take something.

Whether a pause. A prayer. A deep breath. An empathetic ear. A shift in consciousness. A brief moment of reflection is worth the likelihood that the day– or week or month or year– will turn around.

When Life Reverses: Part 1

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up feeling like you could conquer the world and go to bed feeling like the world conquered you? Friday was one of those days for me.

It was one of those rare, Midwest gift days in August where you wake up and open the windows because the humidity has finally dissipated long enough to turn the A/C off for a day or so.. On days like these, there’s no wrong thing to wear. Whether long sleeves or tank top, you are neither too cold nor too hot because the sun shines brightly, complimented by a crisp, clean breeze.

It was also my first free day with no plans in awhile and felt like the perfect day to get really serious about potty-training my 2-year-old, with my oldest daughter back in school As soon as I put minnie mouse underwear on her, she immediately ran to the potty and knew just what to do (though she forgot a minor detail that required some clean up– pulling her pants down– but close enough!) She then asked to go to Starbucks to get vanilla milk and I thought that would be a good reward (yes, my 2-year-old is a Starbucks fanatic, thanks to her dad!).

Before we left, I saw a facebook message pop up on my phone that said a good friend of mine had tagged doublevision blog and wrote how I inspire her. And then I saw an e-mail come in from another friend who clicked on her link and read our blog. She sent me an encouraging e-mail, saying how brave she thinks I am and how she related specifically to a certain post.

So I left on the 2-block walk to Starbucks in this perfect weather feeling on top of the world. Everyone I passed seemed to smile or greet us with happy conversation. Even the birds were attempting to join in the casual conversations. And a bagpiper played beautiful music in front of Starbucks to help raise money for firefighters’ families (seriously, what is it about bagpipes that always gives me goosebumps?!)

I sat on a nearby bench and listened while sipping passion tea and watching my toddler happily slurp down vanilla milk in her stroller. I watched as car after car stopped to hand firefighters dollar bills, showing no sign of a recession anywhere nearby..

As I walked home, I felt like everything was right in the world. I felt good that I had handed a donation to the firefighters. I was elated that little Elli was still dry. I felt inspiring and brave and proud.

And what’s that they say about pride always proceeding the fall?

The day turned on me like over-ripened fruit. Elli peed on our new rug 2 minutes after getting off her empty potty chair. I opened July’s electric bill. Two small foreshadowings of the havoc to come.

I picked my first-grader up from school and asked if she wanted to walk to the shoe store for new school shoes. She was excited and jumped in the wagon, but Elli cried for the stroller so I caved and decided to do the “faux double stroller” with Lucy on top of the stroller (as shown in “Mama on the Move“) As we approached the shoe store, I remembered that we hadn’t brought socks to try on the shoes, and not wanting to spend extra money on socks at the shoe store, I decided to walk the 2 blocks back to grab them from home. Since a friend called to say she was stopping by in a half hour, I began walking quickly, wanting to make sure that we had enough time at the store. I usually try to go slowly when I’m pushing the girls “double-decker” style and hold on to Lucy while pushing, but I was in one of those hurried semi-frenzies as we crossed the street to our block. I was trying to get across the street quickly since there was a car waiting (and I had recently been told by my sister that I’m kind of a slowpoke crossing the street when cars are waiting!) In my haste, I misjudged the distance between the curb and front wheel, and felt the stroller jerk back in protest. And as if in slow motion, my precious Lucy went flying off the stroller headfirst onto the cement sidewalk.

Immediately, people surrounded us and a man ran for ice. Lucy stood up right away but began running hysterically in circles, shrieking in pain. I caught her in my arms and just cradled her, repeating “baby, I’m so sorry” over and over, vaguely aware of Elli staring at us from her stroller, wide-eyed and onlookers shuffling around awkwardly, trying to figure out how to help. The people from the waiting car had kindly pulled over and were looking at her pupils and trying to reassure me with the fact that Lucy has rolled, shoulder first and hit her cheek, not landing head-on. A bruise had already started to form, and Lucy continued to bawl and shriek.

I think the woman from the car could tell that I was mortified and ashamed because she began telling me how her niece did the same thing a few days before. I nodded politely but I couldn’t let myself be comforted. What kind of mom was I?

I felt this ball of guilt and regret in the pit of my stomach. And I felt not one bit inspirational. And not brave in the least. And as I pushed the stroller home, Lucy walking close and whimpering at my side, I felt like nothing in the world was right.

Drama Triangle

I vaguely recall learning about Stephen Karpman’s Drama Triangle in a general psychology class years ago. I recently decided to take a closer look at the 3 roles Karpman pinpoints (persecutor, rescuer, victim) because I was feeling like I might be playing the victim role in some situations in my life. I was trying to figure out why there are certain family/friends or even strangers who seamlessly offer me assistance in dark or crowded places and I feel no sense of shame or inadequacy. I walk away from these situations feeling grateful for their assistance and yet still confident and independent. While there are a few people in my life who awkwardly grab my arm and forcefully “guide” me in the direction they’d like me to go. I leave these situations feeling stupid, embarrassed, helpless – a victim. Rather than repeating these uncomfortable situations, I am trying to come up with new assertive ways to stay out of the victim role.

Simply communicating with people about my needs and preferences is key to avoiding victimhood. Although I studied interpersonal communication as one of my majors in college, utilizing these skills can be challenging when it comes to RP. I get nervous, I freeze up, I think all sorts of thoughts in my head, and cannot seem to effectively articulate myself. I’ve started “rehearsing” various situations in my mind and with trusted friends. I know the more I practice communicating my needs, the better I will become at reacting to or preventing awkward scenarios. I’ve also spent time reflecting on past situations and what I liked or did not like about how I handled them.

In addition to taking a closer look at my own behavior in these scenarios, I also decided to learn a little bit more about the “rescuer”. People that take on this role feel a strong need to help others, although their motives are often focused on their own self-esteem. Now I am certainly not labeling anyone as a dysfunctional “rescuer” just because they’re eager to assist me when I’m having trouble navigating. I’m not even entirely sure the drama triangle can be applied to the awkward encounters described above. I am mainly trying to identify what these situations can teach me about myself and others. After some careful examination, I have come to the conclusion that certain people just need a little extra assistance learning how to assist. Sounds funny, I know. But stay with me.

I think that the people who help me in forceful or awkward ways would choose a different approach if they could envision themselves with RP or any sort of disability. I was touched by a story a friend told me recently about a photographer who wanted to know what it was like to live with RP after his best friend was diagnosed with the disease. He made pinhole glasses for himself and wore them everywhere he went for an entire month. The range of emotions he went through were very real, despite the fact that he knew he could take off the pinhole glasses at anytime. I can’t say for sure, but I would be quite surprised if this photographer plays the “rescuer” role in life.

For me, one of the best ways to stay out of the dysfunctional darma triangle is to simply be aware of it. Not every situation may play out exactly how I want it to, but I do have the power to be assertive and pre-emptive. For example, at a family reunion this summer, everyone hiked down to the beach on the 4th of July. I knew that I could make it down the steep rocky hill by myself as long as I walked slowly and carefully planned each step. I also knew that there were some family members that would feel too uncomfortable watching me walk at such a slow pace and that they might start quietly gesturing each other to help me. So rather than creating a situation that made me look or feel like the “victim” that needed a rescuer, I chose to simply ask an aunt if I could grab her arm on the way down. I’m not sure if this was the “right” solution. I don’t necessarily think every situation has a “right” answer because it’s different for everyone. Someone else may have grabbed their cane or a walking stick from the woods nearby and announced “Just so everybody knows, I will be making my way down to the beach using this stick!” thus maintaining independence and settling onlookers potential fears.

Looking at the various roles in the drama triangle has been a real eye-opener (hee hee – I love those eye puns) for me in all areas of my life – not just RP. I am able to recognize situations and relationships where I have taken on the roles of persecutor and rescuer. Sometimes breaking out of these roles is as simple as investigating our own motives. We all have control over our own words, actions, and choices. We have the power to break out of any of the roles we’ve allowed ourselves to step into in the past. I came across this quote that I think says it all for me in my struggle to stay out of the victim role with my vision. “Argue for your limitations, and sure enough they are yours!” – Richard Bach

Top Ten Reasons You Too Should Become A Walkin’ Mama

Living in the suburbs, where honestly – people pretty much drive down the driveway to get their mail, I have had some of the strangest and funniest reactions when people have found out I’ve walked places. When Ben and I were first married, we lived 3 blocks from North Central College where I worked, and co-workers would always ask incredulously “You WALKED to work?” as if I’d just run a marathon despite the fact that they knew where I lived.

And when I lived 2 blocks away from the middle school I taught at, I constantly had teacher-friends insisting on driving me to or from school because they felt bad that I had to walk even though I never complained about walking (I liked it!). I know they were just being thoughtful and kind, but it sometimes seemed like they were actually uncomfortable thinking of someone walking a few short blocks.

One of the few persons I know who is able to drive but prefers to walk a lot is my sister-in-law, who grew up in Europe where walking was a part of daily life. She’s the only person who used to brave the 1.5 mile walk to the Plainfield library with our kids and me back when we were at our old house.

I’m hoping that with the rise in emerging urban design movements like “new urbanism” and sites such as walkscore.com, community planners will build more suburban neighborhoods within walking distance to more places (some friends were recently laughing sadly when they saw that their house has a “walkscore” of 3!)

But even if there’s only one place (i.e. a park, friend’s house, drugstore, etc.) to walk to where you currently live, here are ten reasons to walk instead of drive there:

1. Better for the environment (What’s that you say? You drive a Prius? Believe it or not, your legs leave an even tinier footprint on this earth than even your Prius! Preaching to my husband here…)

2. Save money (gas, wear and tear….. it all adds up in this economy!)

3. Good Exercise (and, unlike the treadmill in your basement, the scenery actually changes!)

4. Fresh Air for Your Kids (Being a busy mom, it’s sometimes tough to fit in outside playtime, so if you’re walking somewhere AND they’re getting fresh air, win-win!)

5. More face-to-face interaction for the kids (mine face each other in the wagon and play games– yeah I know this can backfire occasionally, but that just teaches them conflict management!)

6. Nature vs. Screen-time inside a car (Okay, so I know not all people who cart their kids around all day in the car have built-in dvd players, but I tend to resort to handing my kids my iPhone way less when we’re outside than when we’re in the car.)

7. Time with Friends (Most families these days aren’t able to all fit in a car together on the way to outings, but if you make plans to walk somewhere w/ a friend– whether to the park, farmer’s market, or another neighbor’s house, you have time to chat in person while you walk!)

8. Opportunities to meet new people (you can’t tell me that a wagon decked out like a princess float is not a conversation-starter!)

9. Give your town/neighborhood a friendly look (there’s nothing that says “hey, this is a safe and fun place to be” more than people out walking, especially with kids.)

10. No chance of getting a speeding ticket (I love to brag that I’ve never gotten pulled over!)

BONUS REASON: Less Stress (Okay, this one may be the most debatable because it’s situational and could be stressful if you’re late walking somewhere important and it takes 3 times as long, HOWEVER, everyone I know who commutes to work comments on how stressful it can be…..just think of road rage and not having to deal with other annoying drivers!)

NOTE: Yes, I live in the United States and realize that very few people live in areas where they can walk to all the places they need to go in the course of a day. But I have also lived in the ‘burbs long enough to see a lot of missed walking opportunities. How many people live in the exact same neighborhood as friends but end up driving to play dates at their neighbors’ houses I know, I know — they may have somewhere to be right after the play date. If you’re one of those people, maybe try adjusting your schedule to leave a little earlier or later once in awhile. Your body, pocketbook, earth, kids, mind, etc. will thank you!

Mama On the Move

Here’s a glimpse of how the girls and I wheel around town in all seasons: