Riki's Misadventures At Life

Guide Dog Saga Pt. 1

I think this one is going to be a fun one… *G*

Last November my mother and I met with Emily, the renal social worker for our dialysis unit. She went over a few things that could help Mom and I fiscally and emotionally. One of the things she asked about was the possibility of a seeing-eye dog for me and how it might give me a little bit more independence.

I loved the idea, since I can’t really go out without someone with me. I even stopped walking around my neighborhood last spring, when I almost got hit by a car because I didn’t see it until it was almost right on top of me. I doubt the driver knew that I didn’t see them, and expected me to just get out of the way. I did, but only at the last second.

Emily called the CNIB in Nova Scotia, as they are who distributes the dogs and they told her that I needed what they called, “aggressive cane training” before I could be paired with a dog. That was fine with me, since, even though I do have a cane, I was only given about five minutes of training with it when I was seventeen. I never use it, mostly because I don’t really know how.

So, I got a call back from the trainer that’s here on the Island, and he can start training me on Tuesday. I’m so excited, and a bit nervous. I’m hoping this guy isn’t too drill sargenty, cuz I don’t think I’ll get along well with him, plus I’m always nervous when meeting new people on my own. As nervous as I am, I really can’t wait to begin. The cane training alone will give me more independence than I’ve had in a long time.

I’ll let you know how this goes

I’m really proud of myself, and I’ll tell you why.

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately, for reasons I don’t care to get into (if anyone asks if it was my time of the month, I will seriously punch them in the throat), but I seem to be slowly coming out of it.  This week (May 22-28) tends to be a bad week for me anyway, because of all the anniversaries in it.  Anniversaries, you ask?  Well, before you rack your brain trying to think of which president or prime minister was born or died in this week, let me tell you, they are personal anniversaries, and probably wouldn’t mean much to anyone else but me.  May 22, 2001 is when I got my second (and last) kidney.  May 25, 2004 is when I started dialysis for the third time, and May 28 is my birthday.  Incredibly fun week, right?  Kind of depressing, actually.  My biggest fluke and my biggest failure happen in the same week as my birthday.  Makes it a little hard to forget it.

Anyway, as I was saying, I’ve been coming out of the funk, and my latest revelation is certainly helping.  You see, this time two weeks ago, I was most likely sleeping (not too comfortably, unfortunately) in a hotel in Newark, New Jersey.  I was on my yearly visit to New York.  My mom and I spent May 11-16 wandering (or in my case, pulled through *L*) Newark and Manhattan.  Normally, when we visit New York, we stay in a budget hotel on the Upper West Site of Manhattan, however, this time the hotel was booked for the time we were going to be there.  My friend, Kelly, who is one half of the crazy duo that made the trip totally amazing and perfect, suggested we look at hotels in Newark.  I liked the idea, because I figured it would be cheaper than Manhattan, and it would be closer to the Crazy Duo’s home base, which is Kelly’s apartment, also in Newark.  The only down side to this for me, trains.

I may need to explain this one. Along with my kidney problems, I’m also legally blind.  When we stayed in Manhattan, we always took cabs or buses anywhere we were going.  Our hotel was a short walk to the subway, but my mom thought that they were too fast and too crowded for me and my poor eyesight.  We avoided them, simply for that reason.  Staying in Newark meant that we’d have to tackle the trains to get to New York.  Though, not the subway, these trains would still have platforms with big gaps, doors that open and close quickly, and people in a hurry, moving much faster than I could, with the possibility of pushing.

So, the first morning we were there, The Crazy Duo met us at our hotel and we walked the block or so the the light rail, which would take us to Newark Penn Station.  I got on this train with no problems, but then, we were the only ones there, and there wasn’t really anyone on it.  When we got to the station, Kelly went off to figure out where we were supposed to go, while the other three of us looked around.  It was kind of neat for me, as the only buildings that look like this at home on PEI are the malls, and none of them have trains in them.  Once we knew where we were going, we made our way to the track.  This was something else.  I took pictures and video, which I don’t remember if I uploaded, simply because it looked so neat to me.  There was hardly anyone on the platform, and no train.  Curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to the edge of the platform to look at the track.  I heard Mom behind me saying, “don’t get too close to the edge.”  I remember thinking, “this isn’t the cliff at Wood Islands Park.  It’s not going to give out underneath me from my own weight.”  I defied her, and got as close to that edge as I could without freaking myself out.  Yes, I’ll be 32 on Friday, but sometimes I’m still that little 8 year old who wants to prove to Mommy that she’s big enough to look after herself, so steps out of Mommy’s and her own comfort zone just for a second to prove it can be done and nothing bad will happen.  It didn’t take long for the train to come, and I hopped the gap between the platform and the train with ease to get on and off, both with people ahead of and behind me.  So, crisis averted.  I tackled the trains and won.  You would think that would be enough for me, right?  Wrong.

I really wanted to go to the Bronx Zoo.  I’d never been to a zoo before and I really wanted to see big cats, for real, and not just on tv.  Kelly didn’t think we could go because of the lack of accessible stations in New York City.  I pretty much begged her to change her mind, and this started a massive research project for the Crazy Duo to figure out the best route to take.  That trek deserves it’s own massive post, which I would need the Crazy Duo to help me write, as they know the details of the research session, and I don’t.  When we got off the train from Newark, we wandered toward the subway station in Penn Station.  I watched a couple of these trains go by, and they went by so fast.  I felt the same nervousness I did when I was at Newark Penn Station for the first time.  But our train came, and I got on it without any trouble at all, even though the doors open and close pretty quickly.  We needed to take a bus and a cab to get to the zoo (not part of the plan), but we made it.

It wasn’t until a little while ago while on the toilet (I don’t know why my best thoughts come while on the can, but they do), that I thought I should be proud of myself.  I know what you’re thinking, that you waded through this massive blog post for a piece of crapper wisdom.  Well, yes and no.  Yes, it came to me while on the can, but the can has nothing to do with it.  What makes me proud is that in my time in New York and New Jersey two weeks ago, I traveled on every means of public transportation the area has to offer.  There was the New Jersey Light Rail, the commuter trains between New Jersey and New York, buses, cabs, and the Subway.  I proved to my mom and myself that I could travel on all of them with minimal assistance, and no real problems.

Oh, and before I forget, to the Crazy Duo: You rock!  I love you both immensely, and I can’t wait till next year!