Little Mean Girl

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This is one of the times when it’s really hard to be a Little Blind Girl.  At the training conference I was at, the teachers kept using PowerPoint, and they would turn the lights off and on over and over throughout each day.  It played merry hell with my eyes.  And as if that weren’t enough, there was a photographer there memorializing the event with flash photography.  Every picture was like a knife stabbing into my eyes.  After nearly ten minutes of this, I was about ready to drop him, I swear I was.  And the handouts had this miniscule font, which I couldn’t have seen anyway because the lights were off, and on and on and on…

At the end of every day, I had excruciating headaches.  I hadn’t forgotten you guys, but it was more than I could do to stare at a backlit screen and focus my eyes enough to type out a blog entry.  I stayed in my hotel room and didn’t go out playing with the other conferees and was generally irritable and antisocial the entire time, thus earning the new nickname of Little Mean Girl.  It shouldn’t be so hard just to try to keep up with the developments in my profession, just to try to do my job and live my life.  I shouldn’t have to lock myself in a dark room and avoid all company.  It shouldn’t physically hurt just to get through the day.

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Is it this hard all the time for everyone?  Am I being a whiny little babypants?  I probably am.  I’ll stop now and think about the starving children in China who would give anything to be able to attend a PowerPoint presentation.  I’ll remember how lucky I am that I can see anything at all; I may not have been able to see the screen for the training presentations, but I could see the hillsides as we drove to the training facility a little after dawn, red earth gleaming wet and dark against the  slowly brightening sky.  I could hear the presenters even when I’m pretty sure they didn’t want me to, and I could lean over and make snide comments to the person sitting next to me.  Really, as long as I can snark, I can make it through the day.

But if that photographer comes back around at my next training conference, I’m putting my four-inch heel through his foot.  Photographer, You Have Been Warned!

Doctor’s note

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So it turns out I get cluster headaches.  For those of you in blissful ignorance, cluster headaches are sort of like migraines that want to kill you.  They’ve been likened to amputation without anesthetic, or childbirth without an epidural.  On the downside, I ended up in the ER.  On the upside, I scored some pretty sweet painkillers, and all I had to do was endure what has been described as the most intense pain a human can experience!  And I thought I’d put that behind me with my last Statistics class.

The doctors and nurses at the ER kept asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10.  I was there a while, and I had very little to do, so before the painkillers kick in, I will share with you the scale I came up with to give myself something to go by:

Little Blind Girl’s Scale of Relative Pain

Pick the level your pain most resembles:

1:  Listening to elevator music

2:  Getting ready to pay the cashier after waiting in a long line, only to remember that you left your card at home

3:  Extended exposure to talk radio

4:  Computer crashing just after you’ve finished a complex project and before you get a chance to save it

5:  Dry cleaner ruining your favorite outfit

6:  Realizing late on Christmas Eve that there’s one present you forgot to get

7:  Calling that hot guy/girl whose number you scored and finding out he/she gave you a fake number

8:  Your divorced parents each get remarried on the same day in different time zones and they both expect you to be at the wedding (has actually happened)

9:  IRS audit

10:  You can’t access the internet to be able to read the little blind girl’s blog!

All right, now that we’ve all acknowledged what’s really important in life, I’m off to have another bizarre prescription-influenced dream.  Last night I dreamed that I was in a meeting and one of my colleagues got up in the middle of the meeting and started doing a stand-up routine.  It was pretty good, too!  I think I’m most disturbed by the fact that I was dreaming about meetings.

Say good night, Gracie!  Good night, Gracie.