The Blind Vampire Hunter (9 page)

As I reached out for Di’s hand, her hands
found mine, “Di... there is nothing the eye doctor can do. I have
had yet another spurt of vision loss and now, as the doctors have
warned us, I am totally blind. The RP has finally taken away what
eyesight I had. I may never see again.”

Real men don’t cry. I refused to cry. Diana
cried enough for the two of us.

Then baby Elaine cried. Diana said, “I guess
I’d better go see to our little one.” As I listened to Diana
talking to Elaine and changing her diaper from the sound of it, I
sat listening and thinking,
I guess I will never see those two
again
. Over the years of research, so little seemed to be
learned about RP that I really did not have much hope for a
treatment, let alone a cure for RP. No, I figured my eyesight was
gone and gone for good. It was time to adjust and go on.

Providentially, I had many years being
legally blind, with one foot in the world of the sighted and one
foot in the world of the blind. I sat hoping my slow vision loss
was going to help me adjust to my total loss of vision. I figured
this would make adjusting to total blindness easier as well.
Why
me Lord, why me?

One thing did surprise me...seeing grayness.
I had always assumed that once I was totally blind, I’d see nothing
but blackness.

I got up, put on some shorts and sandals I
had laid out on and under my valet chair, then went down to put on
the news. This was somewhat normal. Over the years of sitting
around fatigued, I had become something of a news hound. I may have
gotten this from my mother who, it was reported, woke up with the
news, had lunch with the news (during her working at home years)
and later went to bed with the news. I had not bothered to look at
the TV remote to use it. I had not looked at the TV remote in
years. While I couldn’t tell you what all the labeled buttons are
named, I could tell you what the buttons do by feeling the
location, so turning on the TV was no trick.

I can’t say I was really listening to the
news that morning. I did not bother with breakfast; for some reason
I just was not hungry. Even when Diana was finished with Elaine and
asked what I’d like for breakfast, I answered, “Not hungry,
thanks.” I just went back to not seeing the news and, being
mentally distracted, not listening to the news much.

Later, when Diana offered to fix me some
lunch, I almost said, “OK.” But instead I got the idea of fixing my
own lunch. With Diana home, if I ran into problems I could call on
her for help. So instead I answered, “I’ll do it.”

After I walked into the kitchen, I found the
rack of plastic trays with little problem and moved to the counter.
I carefully checked the counter with my free hand and discovered
that it was cleaned off, so I put the tray down. So far, so good. I
only had to feel a little in front of me to find the bread
container and get out a couple of pieces of bread, again no
problem.

Now I had to turn and walk two steps to the
refrigerator and open it. Quickly finding the meat drawer, I opened
it carefully, so I would not open it too far. Feeling around, I
found the rounded package of bologna. I recalled that we sometimes
got turkey or chicken slices in the same type of packaging. We’d
have to work on that. The mustard was on the refrigerator door
where it belonged, so I was set.

The trickiest part of fixing my lunch, while
being totally blind, was getting the mustard on the meat and only
on the meat. I believe I succeeded.

Leaving the kitchen, tray in hand, and
heading for the stairway down to the family room, I bumped into one
of the dining room chairs, not properly pushed in and kept on
going. I recalled my boss who would call me
the human
pinball
because of the way I’d bump into things and keep on
going. As I headed down the stairs I heard the chair being pushed
in.
Had Diana been watching me the whole time? How loving of
her.

Back downstairs in the family room, or as the
family calls it “The Dungeon” because of all my horror décor, I had
no problem finding my mini refrigerator and getting a canned drink
from it. With my lunch gathered, I went to sit down to “watch” some
news when I tripped slightly over one of baby Elaine’s baby toys
that Diana had left out from the night before.

Luckily, I kept my balance and made it to my
lounge chair without further mishap. Once planted in my lounge
chair, I started to eat my lunch and actually started listening to
the news, as I was feeling a little better on the successful
adventure in fixing my lunch within my new world of grayness.

As I figured, adjusting to total blindness
within the house was made easy from the many years of living with
declining eyesight. Outside the house was a bit more difficult. It
would take time to gain the experience and confidence in mobility
as I had when legally blind.

I had a scheduled appointment with a
dermatologist in two weeks. I had to think twice about keeping the
appointment. Because of the potential importance of the appointment
it was a no brainer. I would have to keep the appointment. I’m sure
Diana would make a point about my keeping the appointment. Di had
been bothering me for years about this mole on my back. If she had
not mentioned it, I would not have even known it was there. When it
got big enough that I could feel that it was there, I realized that
meant it had to be growing. I called my doctor who gave me a
referral for the dermatologist.

I first saw this doctor a week ago. She
removed the growth and told me it would be sent to the lab for
testing. At that time I got to the doctor’s office using public
transportation. Would I brave public transit totally blind as I did
legally blind? If the appointment was today I would not, but in two
weeks? We’ll just have to wait and see.

Two weeks later, I kept the follow-up
appointment thanks to help from Di. Today, I didn’t use public
transit on my own, not because of my fairly new total lack of
sight, but because of fatigue, I was having a bad day due to the
sleep apnea.

After the nurse led me into an exam room,
allowing me to put my hand on her shoulder, I waited for the
doctor, and waited, and waited. I was starting to get impatient
enough to just leave, but after all, the dermatologist had used the
“C” word (cancer) during my visit to have the mole removed. She
said she thought it might be melanoma, a form of skin cancer that
can be fatal if not caught early. I did not mention that the “mole”
she removed had probably been part of my back for years. So, yes, I
was nervous.

A slight knock on the closed exam door
preceded the entrance of the dermatologist and interrupted my
musings of my first visit. She entered with, “So, Mr. Poisner,
what’s new?”

“Well I’m blind,” I answered.

As I heard her sitting down, she continued,
“Yes, I remember you mentioning that you are legally blind.”

“No, I mean I am now totally blind.”

There was silence, then, “You did have some
eyesight when I last saw you, right?” I heard concern and confusion
in her voice.

Calmly, to keep things on the light side, I
answered, “Yes. Since the last time I saw you I had a change in my
eyesight that has left me totally blind.”

“Have you informed your GP? Would you like me
to inform your GP so a reference for consultation can be made with
Mental Health?”

“No. I’m fine, adjusting still, but fine.”
Deliberately changing the subject to what was really concerning me
right now, I asked, “So what can you tell me about that mole you
removed?

With a pause, possibly to look at my file,
she answered, “What was removed tested as malignant melanoma. While
it was sizable, we did totally remove it. I believe you will not
require any additional tests or procedures. Feel free to set up an
appointment if any additional moles should develop, but I really
doubt that will be necessary as I am sure we got all of this one.
That’s not to say that you can’t develop a totally new one in the
future.” She walked over to me and took my hand to shake it, “Sure
you don’t need a referral to Mental Health?”

“I’m fine, especially after the good news
that we are finished with that cancerous mole. Mind leading me out
to the waiting area? My wife is there waiting for me.” She did as I
asked.

The morning came to fly to Dallas for the
convention. While rechecking that I had packed everything I wanted
to pack, Diana surprised me with, “By the way, I will be
interviewing a young lady who just got a job down in D.C. Over the
phone she sounded like a promising boarder.”

I’ve heard that song before.
I just
said, “Aren’t you driving me and the Russells to the airport?” “The
Russells were the local NFB Chapter President and his wife, both
born without eyes. During our last meeting, while in casual
conversation it was discovered that the Pres., his wife, and I were
taking the same flight to Dallas. On hearing this, Diana had
volunteered to take them to the airport while with us, hence,
saving our friends some cab fare.

“Yes of course, the interview isn’t until
tonight. I’ll be back well before she arrives for our
interview.”

“What do you know about her?” I don’t know
why I asked. I’ll probably never see her, as she’ll most likely
have some fault that will not get her past the interview. (“Never
see
her.” We’d gotten into the habit of
having one NFB meeting/picnic in the backyard each year. Di and her
mother couldn’t get over having twenty to thirty totally blind folk
using phrases such as “I saw so and so last week,” and “It’s good
to see you.” For instance someone said, “Did you see how excited
Paul got when he found out that he was going to Dallas for the
convention?)

“She’s starting a job down in D.C. managing a
theatre. She’s looking for something a bit more affordable than she
can find down
in
D.C. She noted my ad mentioned
in
walking distance of Metro, with easy access to D.C.”

Interesting, we would have something in
common. I had been a floor manager of a theatre during a year of
college. Mostly I took tickets and oversaw the ushers. Sometimes I
would do the walk. The walk consisted of walking the aisles and
checking customers during the shows for bottles and smoking. With
my night blindness, I discovered a system that worked for me; I
would walk down to the front of the theatre and wait for a well-lit
scene. Then I would walk back up the aisle, looking for the glint
of the movie off bottle glass or the little flare of a smoking
cigarette. My nose helped find smokers more often than my eyesight
did. But then I waste my time; I’ll never even see this woman
boarder, she’ll come and go like so many before her.

Later, we made it to the airport where
airport staff was waiting for us with wheelchairs. “I’m sorry it’s
policy.”

“A wheelchair for a blind person is
policy
?” I asked incredulously.

“Well, yes.” he answered sounding slightly
embarrassed.

“Does policy say we have to use these
wheelchairs?” President Russell asked.

“Well, I guess not. I would be more
comfortable if you individuals would use the wheelchairs, as it is
policy.”

“Tell me sir, would you feel right being
wheeled around this airport in a wheelchair?” President Russell
piped in.

“I guess not.”

“And neither would we. We are handicapped,
not disabled.” President Russell declared,

The airport lackey finally got the point and
ordered his two assistants to park the wheelchairs out of the way.
He then asked, “Is it alright if we take your arms to help
you?”

“That would be nice,” President Russell
answered.

I turned to Diana. “Well, I guess this is
goodbye until I get back next week.” I was going to miss my little
Dolly Parton and her mini Dolly Parton, Elaine.

“It’s just a week, and I will be right here
waiting for you when you get back from your fun-filled week of
conventioning.”

One of the airport lackey’s assistants then
took my arm and we were off.

Word must have travelled faster than we did,
as we were met at the Dallas airport by airport assistance, but
they did not have wheelchairs for us blind. By the way, you’ll be
surprised how many sighted people speak loudly, even yell to the
visually impaired, as if we are as deaf as we are blind.

Chapter
Five

The Boarder

At the baggage pickup, the airport assistance
was very pleasant, polite, and happy to hand over the blind to
sighted volunteers provided by the Dallas Chapter of the NFB.

We arrived at the hotel that would also be
the site for all the meetings I would be attending. I was checked
in and given a name tag with my name in large print and Braille. I
was shown to my room, which I would be sharing with Tom, another
member of our local Chapter. The hotel employee volunteered to help
put my things away, but I figured it would be wiser to do that
myself, so I would know right where everything was. Tom must have
felt the same way, as he also declined the special assistance.

With our belongings put in place, it was time
to check out the facilities of the hotel. This meant testing the
ridged map given out to all convention attendees, and I easily
found one of the hotel restaurants and the room with the indoor
pool. While exploring the indoor pool room, I discovered an
unscheduled “I hate Dr. Funkenstein” meeting in progress. Dr.
Funkenstein was the head researcher who had told my mother that I
was going blind and it was all her fault. Some participants sitting
poolside were mispronouncing his name as Dr. Frankenstein.

Later that night I called home and told Diana
all about my day; after I had finished she had news for me. “We now
have a boarder,” she exclaimed excitedly.