Bravery… or lack thereof

Man, I am full of the off topic posts today.

I figured that it was time to start a semi-regular feature over here on teh blog called “Things Never to Say to a Blind Person” in the hopes that it will occasionally help someone out–or at least offend well-meaning people who will consider me ungrateful and mean-spirited.

The phrase that’s stuck in my craw today is, “Oh, you must be so brave.” I first heard this as a little girl. If I remember correctly, I was in a swimming pool, horsing around with my brother and sister and ended up getting roped into a conversation with some kid’s mother. “I think it’s so great that you’re out here,” she said. “You’re so brave, and you’re an inspiration to me.” I didn’t get it then. I still don’t get it. Why, exactly, must I be so `brave? Is it because I fight crime? Slay demons and vampires? Have super-powers?

No, I get the impression people think I’m brave because I get up in the morning and dress myself and then attempt to interact with the world around me. I know, it’s totally crazy, but I think some people think that just because my eyes don’t work, I obviously should be sitting at my parents’ house, letting them feed me, wearing Depends and reading the Bible. (A note of digression: If you should ever have a blind child, do not let the Christian Record Braille Foundation out of Lincoln, Nebraska get ahold of your child’s personal information. Your child will be receiving mailings from them until she turns 25, and nothing you can do short of threatening these people with nuclear bombs will get your child’s name off their mailing list. Well, of course, I never actually called their offices to inform them that I had joined a cult that worshipped Satan, although I was very tempted.)

I am not an especially brave person. In fact, I tend to think that if my average blog reader were to lose their sight tomorrow, after some whining and a huge pity party, most of you would figure out ways of adapting. Because you have to. If you don’t adapt to the shit life throws at you, you’re not really living.

My uncle is a great example of this. He’s diabetic, and has lost his vision rapidly. He’s got a lot of other health issues going on, too, but the last few times I’ve seen him, he’s been a shell of his former self. He just can’t do anything for himself, and it’s really hard to watch, particularly for me, because I could help. I have even offered my help, and nobody’s taken me up on it. I’m hoping my uncle will realize that eventually he’s got to learn to adapt to the vision loss. I know it’s hard, but trying to find ways to work around something like that is a way more productive use of one’s time than trying to draw disability… which, take it from me, is not the king’s ransom that certain conservative acquaintances seem to think that it is.

In summation, I’m not brave. I’m not an inspiration to anyone. Because were you in my shoes, I would like to think most of you would do exactly what I’m doing–trying to live a normal life.