by Amy Casseaux
“Are you sure you want me to do that?”, I typed.
“Yes, absolutely!”, came the reply. “Don’t you want to?”
I had to think, then I typed in: “Yes, I do, but I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
“No, of being seen by someone I know.”
“No one will recognize you. I know how to make sure of that.”
“How?”
“I do theatrical makeup, remember? I can alter your appearance just enough to make anyone who knows you see a resemblance, but not recognize you.”
I had to think. I was risking everything. My desire to blindsim in public was getting stronger all the time. Better to not be recognized, though. I typed in “I’ll do it!”
“Good! Be at the bus stop at four AM. I’ll meet you, take you back to my place. We’ll get you all done up and THEN we’ll go out.”
“I’ll be there. How will I know you?”
“I’ll wear a carnation - lol. I’ll say, ‘Did you call for a cab to take you to the airport?’.”
“Okay. Can’t wait!”
We typed a few more lines, then we signed off. I was so excited, I didn’t know what to do. Walking to my bedroom, I started making a list of what I needed for the day and for the weekend. Luke said that I should bring clothes for a weekend, plus toiletries, and “my toys”. My toys were a cane like the ones used by blind people, a talking watch, and a brailling slate and stylus.
It was early summer and the weather was very nice, what I called skin weather. I packed a short skirt, halter, and my keds, then I added black tights, my nice heels and a deep green velvet dress in case we went some place dressy. I added a few more “what if” combinations, then closed the suitcase. It was on wheels and would follow me very easily as I walked down the street. I removed everything from my purse that I would need then put it in a daypack that I would carry. I added a black sequined clutch to the suitcase.
A glance at the time told me that I had two hours until I had to be at the bus stop two miles down the road. Luke didn’t know my address or phone number. Today would be our first meeting and only he would get to see me. I’d be blind for the whole 3-day weekend. Hello, Memorial Day!
Crazy, huh? I think so. I don’t know why I get off on not being able to see, but I do. It is beyond a fantasy, it’s almost a wish. If I were to go blind, I think I’d be truly happy.
I’d met Luke on line in a group for other wannabes and their admirers. There were men and women like me, who wanted to be blind. There were others who wanted to be crippled and sat in wheelchairs on weekends or had purchased (God knows where) big heavy leg braces that locked their legs out straight, so they could use crutches and drag their pretend-lifeless legs along. A few wanted to have limbs amputated. One woman had bought arm prosthetics and wore them every time she left her home. She loved her shiny hooks and the plastic on her arms and wrote about how she liked to go out in a halter or a jogbra and shorts, so that everyone could see how the harnesses crisscrossed her shoulders. One guy pretended to be deaf and wore two big behind-the-ear hearing aids with plastic tubes that went to plastic earmold in his ears. He signed and never spoke, according to his posts.
And then there were the people who admired and loved people who were disabled and those who pretended to be disabled. Luke was one of those people. We had chatted for months before we said what city we lived in, and it turned out that we lived in the same one. I lived outside the Beltway and he lived in the inner city, near the Lighthouse for the blind, so he could drive by every day or walk in the neighborhood and see blind people. He had it bad. So did I. We belonged together.
For years now, I had been indulging myself in blind evenings, blind weekends, etc. Only recently had I ventured into the back yard with my eyes covered and my cane in my hand. I have a solid, and very tall fence, plus I only did it after dark. I wanted to to go somewhere in public with my eyes covered, but I hadn’t had the nerve yet. Soon that would change.
Our plan was to spend the day near his home, where blind people were frequently seen, then go out that night. We would see what Sunday and Monday brought. Well, he would... I’d be (oh, how I love saying it) blind.
The time came for me to leave. A quick peek out the window showed no activity in my neighborhood. Everyone was asleep. It would be safe for me to take this walk. Using two eye patches, I covered my eyes and put on wraparound sunglasses. Oh, wow! I could feel it begin.
I went outside and locked my door, then made my way to the street, suitcase in one hand, cane in front. The weekend had begun. Having lived here all my life, I knew this neighborhood well. One block west, turn left, two more blocks until I reached a major cross street. The bus stop was across the street, so I took a deep breath and steeped off the curb. Six steps, cane finds a reflector in the street, six more steps, and my cane finds the median. I step up and cross, then stop and listen. A car is coming, so I wait until it passes. It slowed to look at the blind woman, I’m sure. No sounds beyond those of crickets and night life. I finish crossing to the other side. What a rush!
I orient and turn left, then walk seven steps before I find the bus stop. I touch my watch: it’s ten ‘til four, only minutes to go.
I had always been interested in blind people, and at one point had thought to make a career as an O&M instructor, but my mother’s failing health made getting the degree I need impossible. I took a job with a staffing firm and learned the HR business, instead.
A car approaches and slows. I hear voices over a radio directing people to various places. It’s a police car.
“Miss, are you all right?”
“Just fine. I’m waiting for my ride to the airport. It will be here in a few minutes. Thank you.” Now go away!
“We’ll just sit here if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”, I say sweetly. You’re screwing this up. Go away!
I hear a second vehicle pull up. Someone gets out - I hear footsteps. Then a voice says, “I’m her ride to the airport. Thanks for sitting with her, officer.”
Ride to the airport! That’s the phrase! It’s him!
Going along with the plan, I say, “Hi, Luke! What kept you?”
“Had to get gas.”
I hear the police car pull away and someone walks up to me. I put my hand out, and Luke takes it, very politely. “Hello, Carrie. Do you want me to lead you to my van or do you want to find it?”
“Let me do it.” I orient to the sound of the idling engine and step forward until my hand touches metal, then I drink in the sensation as I grope to the door and open it. Luke puts my luggage in and then walks around. He gets in and off we go. We chat about things as he drives. Being blind in a moving car is strange to me. It takes along time, but we finally get to his house.
“Is it still dark?”
“Yes, for another hour or so. No one can see us, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Well, sort of. This is all new to me.”
“Excited?”
“That doesn’t begin to say it”
“Are you hungry?”
“I will be soon, why?”
“Let’s get you all set and then let’s go to an IHOP for breakfast. Your first blind meal in public.”
“I was thinking we should have sex first. I’m about to explode.”
So we did. Luke undressed me carefully and slowly, with gentle touches. I used my fingers to explore his face. He wore a beard along his jawline, had full eyebrows and a tiny mole on his cheek. He had a hairy chest and a tight butt, and he was inside me before I could feel much more. Ten seconds later we both exploded. Wow! I ‘d needed that!
Once we had both cleaned up and I had wrapped up in a robe Luke had loaned me, I was taken to a canvass and wood chair - a director’s chair, I realized. He said, “Now for a little makeup. But first, I have a surprise for you. How would you like to lose the dark glasses and still not be able to see?”
“How?”
“With prosthetic lenses for your eyes that cover your iris, pupil, and sclera. Basically, they tuck in behind your upper and lower eyelid. They’re very safe, but they will block all vision for you. You have a choice: white with a marled iris, giving your eyes the look of someone who was born blind. Completely black, giving you the look that some disease has rotted your eyes and they will need to be removed soon. I also have a pair that look like you have a white cloud over your pupil, giving you the look of someone with an inoperable cataract, and lastly, I have perfectly normal looking eyes.”
I had to think for a moment, then I said, “The white cloud, please. I want to be newly blind today. If I someone sees me, I might be able to spin a tale.”
“Everyone will see you, but no one will recognize you. Prosthetics aren’t the only thing I have in store for you.”
“What else?”
“I plan to create an effect of old scars around your eyes, nothing hideous, just enough to tell a story. You’ll look like you’ve had cosmetic surgery that has almost brought your face back to it’s original appearance.”
“What would look best?”
“The black, with some burn scars will have people staring at you in horror and pity. The normal with a temple scar will be less obtrusive and more natural looking. That will support many stories. With a little buildup around your eyes, I can make the white look totally artificial, as if your eyes were removed and these put in.”
“You decide.”
“Okay. Lean your head back.”
I did and I heard sound all around me as he puttered with cases and his tools. A few minutes later a bright light went on over my face. I couldn’t see it but I could feel the heat that came from it. The glasses came off, then the patches and I could only see the light. Everything around it was dark. A pair of fingers pried my eyelids open and then it came at me quickly, and was fitted to my eyeball. Once that was done I saw nothing out of my left eye. I mean nothing. Two seconds later, vision in the other eye went away. The lamp went off.
“Blink your eyes a few times. Are they comfortable?”
“Yes. They’re almost soothing.”
“It’s a gas permeable polymer, very new. Now get all your moving out of your system and hold still.”
I sat still and I felt something like a pencil drawing lines on my nose and cheeks and around my eyes. A brush came next, then something cool. A drinking straw was placed between my lips and I was told to breath through it. Next came a cream and something cold was laid over my face.
“This will only take a few minutes. Keep your face relaxed.”
I hummed an “okay”. Soon the weight was lifted and things were peeled away. I heard Luke say, “Perfect!”
“How do I look? I mean what do I look like?”
“I gave you a mix. You have one white lens and one cataract one, plus some very old fine-lined scars around your eyes. If anyone asks, or if you feel the need to tell someone, you were in a car accident, the airbag failed to deploy and you lost one eye completely, plus the vision in the other.”
“Cool!”
After we had sex again, I put on a short skirt that showed off my legs from mid thigh down, and my keds. I started to put on a halter top, but Luke had another surprise for me: a t-shirt in my size that said, “Reach out for the Light” and “Lighthouse Picnic 2002” with a picnic scene drawn in the middle. I put it on and we headed out for breakfast.
The staff at IHOP were stunned at first, but then very solicitous, bringing me a braille menu, and telling me where things were on my plate and in relation to it. I delicately used my fingers to find my silver wear, and I probed with my fork until I found scrambled eggs. A second later, I was savoring. All around us, I could feel eyes on me. I was digging it. Soon I could hear the whispers.
”She does that so well.”
“Billy, open your eyes and stop that. She has to eat that way.”
“Her eyes...”
“How horrible...”
“My cousin lost her vision to diabetes and she...”
Luke and I talked about where we’d like to go. Parks for walks, shopping, and an arboretum with paved pathways and wooden bridges were mentioned. The last one sounded good and soon we were at the arboretum. Luke had a video camera, so I could see later what the day had been like. With him ten to twenty feet away, I caned my way along pathways, crossed bridges, smelled flowers, found benches and sat down. We were both having a ball. Luke said that I was doing very well and just a few seconds later I managed to fall down a hillside into a thicket of thorny bushes. He came down and helped me up, then led me back up the hill. My cane was broken, he told me. I was so disappointed, but he said that this was even better.
How, I asked?
He said that it was a surprise and he led me back to the car. It was just before noon by my watch when we came to a stop and the engine was turned off. “Where are we?”
“At the Lighthouse to get you a new cane.”
“The Lighthouse? What if..”
“Hey, no one is going to realize you aren’t blind, because you are blind. More to the point, so is the woman who runs the store. C’mon!”
We got out and Luke led me inside and down the hall to the store. Once inside, I explained that I’d broken my cane and needed a new one. A woman asked my height and brought one to me, unfolded it and placed it in my hand.
“Where does the top of the cane come up to you”
“Breast level.”
“Good. Just right.”
We chatted for a few minute and Luke suggested a deck of braille playing cards, but said to get dominoes instead, not saying that I like dominoes better and it would require more touchy-gropy on my part.
He paid and Betty asked if we wanted some cookies. She had just baked some in the kitchen down the hall. I said yes, knowing that Luke really wanted to look around more. Betty led us down the hallway to a room where some kids were. I could hear their voices as they played. We were seated and I heard canes tapping around us as Betty went to get cookies. I guessed it was some big day room, filled with blind people.
“How long have you been blind?”, I hear a child ask.
“Two years”, I tell her. “And you?”
“I’m not blind. I’m here with my sister. What happened to your face?”
“I was in a crash and I didn’t wear my seatbelt.”
“Oh.” She said. “Connie had her eyes taken out. They were bad. They can’t give her good ones, so she has to come here.”
An older, possibly teenaged voice said, “Lissa, will you please stop telling everyone that?”
The table is bumped into and I feel someone sit down. “I’m sorry Lissa bothered you. She thinks this place is cool.”
So do I. I don’t say. “Hi, Connie, I’m Carrie. It’s all right. She’s being honest and inquisitive. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do. Being blind sucks.”
“Some days, yes, it does.”, I say. It’s what she expected to hear. At that moment, Betty came back with the cookies. We all sat and talked. Mostly I listened, but then I told stories that I had read on the Internet about learning to function after becoming blind. I told them as if they had happened to me.
“What do you do, Carrie?”, I get asked.
I told the truth. “I work for a company that finds jobs for other people. I interview applicants, take job orders, and verify references.”
Connie asked, “My aunt is in that business up in Omaha. How do you do the paperwork? That’s all she talks about - drowning in paperwork.”
I was ready for that. “With a computer. Orders get scanned in, and I use speech software and a brailleboard. I type well, so I can type raw notes in a word processing file while I’m taking a call, then one of my co-workers enters it into the data base. When I’m doing an interview, I take notes in braille, then slip it into the file. Once a day, we meet and compare notes on applicants. Someone writes in the files for me, then we have a printer that prints in braille, so everyone else prints their notes out and adds them to the applicant files. That way, I can hear or read job orders and read files and then make a match.”
“You make it sound so easy.”, Connie said. “I’m afraid I’ll wind up in a broom factory.”
Betty said, “Connie, there are lots of careers for blind people.”
“Not flying careers. I wanted to be a Navy pilot like my Dad. I was all signed up for ROTC and a training slot in Pensacola when this happened. Planes are all I know. I’ve spent my life tinkering with Dad’s old Cessna and flying with him. I got my pilot’s license a week after I got my driver’s license. I think - no, I know I cried more the day I had to surrender that license than I did the day they took my eyes out.”
Don’t ask me why I said this, but I told Connie, “People will tell you that you can do anything you put your mind to. That’s not true. We have very real limitations placed on us. Some are placed on us by reality and some are placed on us by other people. The thing to remember is that we can get a lot accomplished that other people don’t think we can. Sure, we can’t be surgeons, but we can be psychiatrists. We can’t fly planes, but we can help build them or write lines of code for the electronics that go in them.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s what we have. If we sit and moan about what we don’t have, we miss the opportunities do things with what we do have. Do you want to get out and live or sit on the sidelines?”
We were there for almost an hour, just talking. Luke said very little. He was getting off on it and I was so totally into character that I forgot I wasn’t really blind.
Once we got back to Luke’s place, he got out bread, deli meat, cheeses and such, and I made us grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. I had taught myself how to cook blind. Well... some things, simple things.
After we cleaned up, Luke and I walked around the block, partly for exercise and partly for our fantasy. My new cane told me of cracks in the sidewalk, curbs, newspaper vending machines, trash cans. We cut through an old cemetery and I ran my hands over headstones, feeling the writing there. I walked under trees, unknowing until a branch or a leaf touched my face, causing me to flinch. We walked over to West Gray, and strolled along the posh, high dollar stores there. When we got back, I found out why he asked me to pack evening wear. He surprised me with tickets to a concert downtown.
I was so excited we had to make love again, right there in the den. Wearing that short skirt was a good idea.
Later that day, I put my hair up in a double braid while Luke watched. I could tell from the way he breathed that he was turned on, so I decided to be nice to him. I went to my bag and found the black tights I had packed. I put them on very slowly, bringing them up my legs. Black bra and slip, then the dress that went to just below my knees. I was having as much fun as he was. Once he had his tux on, he took me to the director’s chair and applied cosmetics to my face and gloss on my lips, explaining that a blind woman would have makeup on at the opera. I went along with it because I liked having him touch me. The brush on the apples of my cheeks excited me and when he painted my lips, I nearly dragged him back to the bedroom.
I’m guessing that Luke must knock back some serious bucks in Hollywood as a make up and special effects artist. He had arranged for a limo, which took us to Birraporetti’s for dinner. I walked on his arm, holding my clutch, and keeping my head high and my face relaxed. He carried my cane, folded. I could feel eyes on us and then I heard and felt cameras and strobes.
“Who’s taking my picture?”
“Paparazzi. Nicole Kidman is here, and right now all the photographers are ignoring her and looking at you. Keep it up. You look like a million bucks.”
I continued to walk poised, as If I were a princess who was accustomed to such, then Luke seated me, and I kept my face placid, and I heard more cameras whir. Dinner was wonderful, and I ate very delicately, careful not to make a mess. I was having lots of fun. The opera house was wonderful, with broad steps that I used my cane to climb gracefully. Inside, the echo told me of the cavernous lobby. All around me people milled. I had begun to experience a radar-like sensation, telling me that there were people or objects in motion around me. I had heard of this phenomenon. It was called facial vision. Some blind people developed it, but I’d never read of sighted people who have it. I guess they have it and don’t know.
Several women stopped and said hello to Luke. They all sounded like older women. He explained that they were clients of his who called him for special makeup for weddings and nights like this.
The next day we were in the gym at Luke’s club. I had on a leotard and shorts, showing my legs at Luke’s request. He led me to each machine, helped me on, then placed my hands where they needed to go. I was enjoying myself. I like a good workout, but I had never so much as closed my eyes during one. It was fun to do it blind.
Swimming was out because of the makeup, but the jacuzzi was a good substitute. We chatted with other club patrons, me having no idea what the people looked like. Once we were outside, Luke told me how everyone had been looking at me as I did the machines and jogged on the treadmill.
“And you had the camera going, didn’t you?”
“Of course.”
We went places and we did things and experienced life without sight from the viewpoint of a woman who was blind and a man who, explaining what he saw, saw it anew. All too soon it was Monday afternoon and it was over. It was time for Mr. Rourke to say, “Carrie, the fantasy is over.” It was time for Tattoo to put me on the plane and wave good-bye.
Luke put me in the chair. I asked him to do the lenses last. He removed the make up, washed my face and patted it dry, then applied a moisturizer. He started to open my eyes and I said, “Don’t. Not yet.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t want the weekend to end just yet. Luke, I need to say this now. I like you. I’d like to be with you more. Not because of the money you spend or the prosthetics or even the places you take me. I like you. You’re a good lover, and from what I’ve heard so far, you’re a nice man.”
“I try.”
“This is going to sound odd. I want us to be together again, but I don’t want to see you.”
“Huh?
“When we’re together, I want to be blind, to know you as a blind woman knows her man. I want to come here and I want you to come to my house, and I want us to get to know each other. I want the fantasy we shared today to become a reality, if can make it work.”
“Okay, you want to cover your eyes or wear the prosthetics when we’re together?”
“For now, yes. Until we decide that we can make a life together or we decide that we’re not meant for each other. You see, I have a plan. It’s been in my mind for a year now.”
“What’s the plan?”
“First, let me say that today was everything I had ever hoped for. I love being blind. I want to become blind for real one day.”
“For real?”
“For real. I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of years now - right after Mom died and I was alone all the time, but... I never had the nerve to go out in public and find out if I can hack it, plus I was afraid of being recognized.”
Reaching out and touching his face, I said, “Luke, I can hack it. I eat it up. It’s wonderful. I’ve decided to go ahead with my plan, thanks to you. I’m going to sell my car, and I’m going to tell my boss that I’m going slowly blind due to some eye disease. I’m going to sell him on the idea that I can do my job without vision, by using special computer gear like I described to Betty and Connie on Saturday. He likes me and I’ve helped him increase revenue by about thirty percent each year since I’ve been there, just with the accounts I’ve brought in and the accounts I’ve taken over. I make him money and that makes him look good - both at regional and at corporate headquarters. I checked: he can get the equipment and the company can write it all off on the taxes. It makes them bullet proof with the Department of Labor and the EEOC. I can sell this.”
“I’m sure you can, but then what? Are you going to put the prosthetics in and not take them out until your eyes are permanently damaged? That can happen.”
“No. I contacted a guy in town, an eye doctor. He’s an aficionado, a devotee. We met on the Internet. For a fee, he can make me permanently blind. He’s licensed here, but the procedure will have to be done in Mexico. He’ll sign any paperwork I need attesting to blindness due to some organic cause and then I can go get through O&M training for real.”
“Hmmm. You have thought about this a lot.”
“Yes, I have.”, I told him with a smile. “Luke, I like you, and I think I could fall in love with you without even trying. I’d like to make a life together or at least see if it’s possible, but I need you to understand one thing: I’m going to put the plan in motion starting tomorrow. They won’t question what skills I already have if I tell them I was going blind and planning for the day it happened. They won’t be surprised when I show up using a cane and say that my eyes are failing. I need you to understand that, whether we get together or not, I’m going to blind myself forever some time before the year is over.”
I felt his hand touch my face, caress it. “I’m not going to ask if you’re sure about this. It’s obvious.”
“Could you love a person who was really blind and not just a pretender?”
“I could love you, sighted or sightless. You’re a very special woman. I’ve grown very fond of you over the months we we’ve been typing at each other, and now I find myself falling for you.”
“Good, then take me home like this, as I am now. Tell me how to take the lenses out after you’ve gone, and then put them in before you came again. I want you in my life, but I never want to see you.”
“Okay.”
He helped me pack up, something I would have to learn to do without seeing. On his arm, I was led to his van and then I told him my home address. Just before we got there, he pulled over and asked me to hold still. Then he put something over my eyelids and wrapped what felt like gauze around my eyes. “What’s this for?”
“I’ve been thinking. The plan, as you call it, starts not tomorrow, but today. Your neighbors will see you like this and then the rumor will begin. Someone will call you and you start the story then. Tomorrow, you don’t go to work, you call in and tell them that you were in an accident over the weekend. You’re eyes were injured, but the bandages will come off Friday. You’re staying with a friend until then. Give them my number.”
“Okay, then what?”
“Next Friday, you tell them that your eyes are okay and that you’ll be in Monday.”
“That my eyes are okay?”
“Yes. That will spread around and by Monday everyone will be asking you what it was like. You’ll be blind for the rest of this week, so you’ll have stories to tell them. Sometime Monday, you tell the boss that you don’t want it known yet, but that you really can’t see as well as you let on and that the doctor says it will get worse. Tell him then that you will have to stop driving. We’ll get you a disabled bus pass and you can learn the bus route. Tell your boss that you’ll be missing a little time - half days here and there - while you get treatments to try to save your vision. In about a month, you get all your co-workers together and tell them that the doctor says you’ll be blind by Christmas.”
“Ooooh, I like this.”
“Well, I’m around movie people a lot. I’ve sat in on a few scripting sessions. By setting a date, your boss will have to get into motion and get the equipment you need, so that when you come back blind after the New Year, everything will be in place. After you’ve told them, I’ll get you a set of lenses that will block all vision except what is directly in front of you. You’ll have tunnel vision, be able to read and see, but not very well. That way, they will get used to seeing you walking around with your arm in front of you, taking you to the bus stop, things like that. Next month, you start using a cane at work, in the meantime, you’ll use it everywhere else.”
“Yes. I like it.”
“Now, as for us living together, let’s find out now. Today. We’ll try it until Christmas and by then we’ll either get married in Mexico or I’ll help you with the trip and then get out of your life. Sound fair?”
“Sounds better than fair. I want this.”
“Okay, then. Once we get you packed up and back at my place there’s going to be a rule and you have to agree to this now.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll be blind at all times while at my house and when we’re out, except when you go to work. I’ll teach you how to handle the lenses. No one in my neighborhood will know that you can see.”
“Yes!”
“Now wait. There’s a reason for this rule. Before you make this permanent, I want to you to live day in and out as a blind woman and see what it’s really like. Not going out partying blind and playing blind, but everyday do-the-laundry blind, housekeeping blind, I-dropped something-and-I-can’t-find-it blind, and there’s-someone-at-the-door who-is-it-blind. There is a supermarket four blocks away from my house. I want you to walk there, buy some things and walk back - all alone. I won’t go with you. I want you to experience being in unfamiliar places and not knowing who’s around you, and thinking that someone has followed you. I want you to experience scared-blind and know that you can hack that.
“There’s going to be times when you’re bored-blind with nothing to do. Also... alone-blind. In two months, I have to go to California to do a job. I’ll have another one in October. You can’t have vision while I’m gone, except at work. You’ll have to keep the house and take care of yourself without any help. If, after months of this, you decide to blind yourself, it will only be a formality, because you’ll already be blind in every other way. Oh, one more thing: We’ll get that doctor to do up papers now - this week - so you can get the training you need and so the insurance won’t smell a rat when they don’t get any bills.”
“Good idea. Oh, Luke, I agree. I agree to all of it.”
He kissed me and then we went to my house. As he drove, I made a note that, since I was moving in with Luke, I should rent this house out when I sell my car. Extra income could be saved to pay the doctor and buy things that I was going to need. When we got there, he came to my side of the van and helped me out. My cane stayed out of sight. It took four seconds before I heard, “Carrie?”
I heard Mrs. Bauer call from across the sheet, then I heard footsteps approach. So... it wouldn’t be a phone call, but a live performance.
“Carrie, what happened?”
I decided to practice now. “Oh, Mrs. Bauer. I can’t see! They don’t know whether my eyes will work again!”
Luke led me in and said, “The doctor wants her to lay down.”
“Oh, of course. Can I help you?”
Mrs. Bauer came in with us and sat with me while Luke packed a weeks worth of clothes and personal items for me. I told her I had woke up blind and had been in the hospital for two days. I asked her to watch the house, that I was staying with a friend. She cried with me and promised to water my plants and said that Wilbur would mow my lawn. I gave her a spare key and Luke gave her his phone number. Then we left.
As we drove away, he said, “You’re good.”
“I’ve been practicing for the day that I put the plan in motion. A little hysterics here and there would be in character.”
“You don’t need to explain in character to me. I work in Hollywood.”
“Why don’t you live there? I’m glad you live here, but I’m curious.”
“Too expensive and too much competition for day work. It’s cheaper to live here and stay in a hotel when I go do a job there. I’m pretty good. The studios like my work and I get enough calls. In the meantime, I do makeup for rich society ladies and invent new make-up effects.”
“And take care of your new blind girlfriend.”
“And take care of my new blind girlfriend.”
= = = = =
We carried out the plan. I spent the week with Luke, learning his house and learning him. We settled in to a life together that has lasted until today and promises to never end. I told my boss the following Monday about my eyes, telling him that I wanted it kept between us and knowing that the rumor would get around. Act I had begun.
We met with Dr. X, who examined my eyes and wrote a prescription so that the prosthetics would be custom made to fit me well over a long period without pain. What was his fee? A copy of the videos that Luke had made over the weeks. Videos of me doing blind things. A promise of Luke’s services for a circle of very special friends who liked to blindsim. For the procedure, he wanted cash, but I’d already saved some and the rent from the house would get me the rest soon.
He made out the forms to my insurance carrier and called them, getting authorization for my treatment, the drugs that would be used (that, of course, I never took), mapping out my treatment and explaining my prognosis. He suggested that I begin O & M and occupational therapy as soon as possible - just in case the treatments were not successful. At my request, he called my boss and told him what to expect and what to look for if my vision suddenly got worse, which was possible. Mr Jones said that he would watch out for me and take care of things.
There was no problem getting the new equipment ordered, installed and getting me trained on it. Everyone helped. They all said how brave I was and several said how they didn’t think they would go on working if they went blind. That got us a special video from the home office that we all had to watch and listen to on how blindness in the workplace was no reason to let someone sit home on disability. I had the thought that Luke and I could make a better one. He got a producer/director friend of his to visit and we did. The company paid us handsomely for it.
After a few weeks of being blind on a day in/day out basis, I was certain that I wanted the surgery. I only used my vision at work, keeping my eyes closed going and coming. I always changed from the narrow vision lenses to the blind lenses before entering our home. Luke had a comfortable screened in porch where I sat to do it. I never once saw the inside of the house, nor did I ever see Luke’s face. Seeing him didn’t matter, I knew that face. My fingertips told me everything I wanted or needed to know.
The two weeks in July were hard, not because I was blind, but because I was alone. We called each other every night. When he came home, we knew we were going to stay together. Being apart had been hell for both of us. I surprised him when he came home by being at his gate with the help of a skycap. Standing next to the limo drivers waiting for their clients with signs bearing the client’s names, I had a sign that said, MARRY ME.
Act II began the next day. The narrow aperture lenses got narrowed even further every two weeks. By October, I was already in almost-blind mode. I could tell whether it was light or dark and I could see a face if it was right in front of me, although I could not recognize that face. I could read large type with a special magnifying glass. Everyone thought of me as legally blind.
November came and the day before thanksgiving, the curtain was raised on Act III. Alone in the ladies room, I removed the narrow vision lenses for the last time, and I flushed them down the toilet. I took one last look in the mirror, waved good-bye to myself, and I put in the final pair. Identical in appearance to my own eyes, they blocked all vision and light. I backed into a stall, raised my skirt, lowered my panties and sat until someone came in.
The door opened. It was time. ”Hey, turn the lights back on!”
“The lights are on.”. I heard Nancy say.
I called out, “Nancy, that’s not funny. Turn them back on.”
I heard/felt the stall door open. Nancy said, “Oh my, God, Carrie, they really are on.”
I let a shocked look cross my face and I screamed. Soon the ladies room was full of my co-workers, helping me up, settling my clothes, leading me back to my desk as I gave a performance worthy of a Tony Award. Luke was called.
“I don’t want to be blind”, I kept crying and saying. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast. The treatments were working. They said I might keep some sight.”
All the bravery I’d been demonstrating went away and I gave them what they wanted to see. At the same time, I used that time to get accustomed to the idea that I would never see again. I went ahead and grieved for my eyes the way a widow grieves for her husband who just died, and yet knows that it was a good thing because now he was out of pain. I wanted to be blind, and yet I knew that I was giving up something forever. My friends and my co-workers held me until Luke came to get me and take me home.
He led me to the van and seat belted me in, then he drove us home. I was in a funny place mentally for the rest of the day. I was numb, as if I had gone so thoroughly into character that I could not re-emerge. I was filled with anticipation and apprehension all at the same time. Come the week after Christmas, Dr. X was going to sever my optic nerve with a laser, blinding me for all time. Once that was done, there was no turning back.
I guess at some level, I knew that I could call the whole thing off prior to that point. I could have a miracle cure, a new surgery or something and go back to work with low or perfect vision. I had no intention of doing any such thing, but I knew it was possible. For the next forty days, the idea occupied my thoughts: It doesn’t have to be permanent. I can still call it off.
I never told Luke what I was thinking because I knew that he’d call it off for me.
We spent Thanksgiving with my sister and her family in New Mexico. (major shock wave, there!). I told them that I hadn’t wanted to tell them until I knew it was certain and that by the time I knew it was certain, I was already blind. I told them how I had thought that the treatments had been improving my vision, but that I had been lying to myself. Sympathy all around from them. I insisted on making the candied yams as I had every year (I’d been practicing, believe me) and everyone was impressed at how I could do that and other things.
Christmas we spent with Luke’s parent’s in Colorado. I found out how he came about his fondness for blind women. His sister was also blind. I heard about how, despite her handicap, she’d entered beauty pageants and won, but never made better than second runner up at the Miss Colorado pageant either time. Hey, second runner up in a state wide competition impressed me. She must really be pretty.
December twenty seventh, we boarded a plane for Cozumel and destiny. It was time.
Luke led me into the treatment room Dr. X had arranged for us, then left. Dr. X gave me a pill to take and told to relax. I was placed In a chair that leaned back and my head was laid back on a head rest. A narrow strap went around my forehead. A much wider one with an opening for my nose went across my face, locking me into a motionless vise-like grip with my mouth open, blocked by a bite device. I could not move my head or my face. I could not speak. My lenses were removed, and I saw only darkness and bright light above me. Drops were placed in my eyes and they went numb. My vision slowly went away. More drops came, but I didn’t feel them, just sensed them. A heavy sandbag-like object was placed on my chest and my arms were secured to armrests so I couldn’t shift. Dr. X cautioned me to be absolutely still as the device was adjusted.
The device was brought to my face, my chin rested on a little curved piece of plastic. Something round was over my eyes. I could see nothing.
I heard Dr. X say, “Carrie, I know the bite block is in place, but I want you to try to say something.”
I tried to say “What”, but it came out sounding like, ”Uhnnaaahh.”
“Okay, listen to me. In two minutes, the drops will have done their job. I’ll fire the laser once in each eye. You won’t feel it. Between now and then, if you change your mind, I want you to make that sound you just made. If I hear that sound, I’ll stop the procedure, okay?”
“ohhh-aayyyy” God, I sounded like one of those people with cerebral palsy or a stroke victim. I waited. A minute went by... another.. then a hum and then I saw sparks. The device was removed, the bite block and straps were taken off, and Dr. X asked if I was alright.
”Yes.”
I was told to close my eyes, and they were covered and bandaged. I was helped up and my cane was placed in my hand. I heard the door open and I was pretty sure I sensed Luke there.
“Honey, are you all right?”
“I’m blind now. Yes, I’m all right.”
Dr. X said, “Take the bandages off tomorrow morning, but in two days I want to check and make sure no collateral damage was done. You have my number where I’m staying. If there is any seepage or discharge in the morning, call me. Beyond that, do anything she feels up to doing, but keep some ibuprofen handy. If there is any sharp pain or if she begins to bleed, call me and come directly here.”
“I will.”, he told the doctor.
He came and he hugged me, then he led me away. It was over. I was blind. The plan had worked. I was happy, but all day long, I kept saying in my mind, “I’m blind.. I’m blind...”
Somewhere in the middle of the night, I got up and went to the bathroom. Once I had peed and wiped, I stood up and washed my hands. I reached out and touched the mirror I knew it was there. I felt glass that was useful for reflecting light and images, but useless to me.
That was when it hit me with the fury of a tornado: it was useless to me because I was blind! What had I done to myself?!?
I wasn’t acting now. I began to cry and cry and cry and then I screamed. I felt Luke’s hands on me, trying to comfort me. I had wanted to be blind and now I was, but somehow it was wrong. I reached out and touched his face. I’d never see that face. What if we had babies? I’d never see them either! What had I done to myself?
I had carried out my plan. That was what I had done. Dr. X must have anticipated something like this and briefed Luke on what might happen. I felt the needle bite as it went into my hip.
“What was that?”
“It will help you, honey. It will help you sleep.”
He carried me back to the bed and held me. His hand stroked my hair as I held on to the other hand until I fell asleep. What had I done to myself?
= = = = = =
“It was a panic attack, that’s all. Just as I had predicted would happen.” Dr. X said over dinner two days later. “I’ve seen it happen even to patients who knew that they were going blind. I’ve done this procedure two other times for people like yourself. Both had the same reaction, then settled down and started enjoying themselves.”
And enjoy ourselves we had! We’d already gone riding on a tandem bike and I’d taken my first blind swim in the gulf. Tomorrow, we had a bet on how well I could do putt-putt golf with Luke’s direction.
I’d awoke the next morning feeling groggy, but very calm. The scene in the bathroom came back and I remembered what I’d felt. I examined my feelings now and found that I had no regrets. The plan had worked. I had achieved what I had desired. I was blind.
Luke and I had a long talk that morning. He was feeling terrible until I convinced him that I was not only all right, but happy. I touched his face with my fingers and found a smile on his lips. Everything would be all right. We had a life in front of us.
That was three years ago. Life has been good ever since. We got married on January 1st that year. By January 7th I was back at work, all systems go. All my friends tried to do things for me, but I insisted on doing for myself. Soon we all had a good idea of what I could do by myself, what I needed help with, and a few things that had to be done for me. After a couple of months everything was settled down and my being blind was just normalcy for everyone. At Mr. Jones’s request, I met with several clients who had large companies. I convinced them that disabled workers tended to be very loyal workers. That paved the way for a couple of my Internet friends to be hired. Both were wannabe/became-disabled people like me.
Thanks to Dr. X, Bertha had fulfilled her life’s dream, just as I had. Thanks to a Mexican colleague of Dr. X, Vicki no longer had to pretend or worry about a boyfriend discovering her secret. When she took her hooks off at night, she had two smooth, rounded stumps a few inches above where her wrists and hands had been. Another success story.
Luke and I became happier together each day. Six months ago, our happiness doubled when a second missed period triggered a visit to my Gynecologist. Luke and I danced all the way back to the car after hearing that I was pregnant. The dancing resumed months later when the Ultrasound showed that it was a girl and a boy. Twins! Oh my God, am I going to be a busy mommy!
Today is my last day at work as I go out on maternity leave. All signs indicate a mid-December delivery. Two healthy babies will be a very welcome Christmas gift, indeed. Yesterday, Mr. Jones called me into his office and shared some news. He’s getting promoted to regional when his boss retires in April. He’ll be leaving in late February to begin the transition. This bit of news meant that as I soon as I come back from maternity leave in January, my transition to branch manager has to begin. Yee-ha! Life gets better.
But today is special and for a very good reason. When Mr. Jackson from Boeing arrived, I led him into the meeting room and introduced him to an applicant for a position he’d called me about.
“Mr. Jackson, this is Ms. Westbrook. She’s just got her degree in computer programming and she’s ready to write some code for you.”
I heard Mr. Jackson hesitate and clear his throat. “ Ummm... I’m not certain... uh, how good a blind programmer is going to be at writing aviation software. No offense, Miss Westbrook.”
“None taken, Mr. Jackson. By the way, call me Connie.”, She replied as she opened up a heavy binder and turned it around for Mr. Jackson to read. “Here, let me show you how much I know about aviation....”