Note: Mike usually looks my blog posts over before I hit the publish button, but for reasons I am about to explain he is not available today. Please forgive weird formatting or distorted photos…

First, the most important news. Mike came through his gall bladder surgery today just fine. He’s at home now, resting in the next room.

As for Hanni and me, we’re fine, too! the staff at Northwestern Hospital treated us beautifully. That is, they treated us like everyone else who was there waiting for their loved ones to get out of surgery.

. Hanni knows a lot of commands. “Follow” was particularly handy today. “Hanni, follow!” The patient care technician led us into the room where Mike was waiting for anesthesia. “Hanni, follow!” The receptionist led us to her phone. The recovery room nurse was on the line. She wanted to let me know that Mike was, well, recovering. , “Hanni, follow!” The patient care tech came out again to tell me Mike had finally woken up. We followed as we were led to Mike’s room and sat there with Mike until he was discharged.

Nurse after nurse after nurse entered Mikes room then, each wanting a glimpse of Hanni. “Ohhhhh!” they’d gush. “She’s beautiful!” Hanni responded the way she always does when she gets attention. She wagged her tail.Poor Mike. He goes through the trouble of having surgery and still Hanni gets all the attention. But Mike didn’t mind. He was glad we both were there. I was glad we were there, too. It felt right.

only one staff member questioned Mike about whether or not someone was coming later to pick him up. “Oh, my wife’s here,” he said, pointing my way. Mike described how the woman had looked at me, and then at Hanni, and then again at Mike.

“We’re taking a cab home,”
He reassured her.

“a cab,” she said with a nervous laugh. “That’s a good thing!”

When it was time to go, Hanni and I kept pace with the patient care technician as he pushed Mike in a wheelchair towards the hospital lobby. “Hanni, follow!” I repeated over and over, turning right, left, right, right and left again until we were finally outside hailing a taxi.

Mike broke the rules in the back of the cab. He pet Hanni all the way home, even though she had her harness on. I didn’t scold either of them. After all, this was a special occasion.

Mike is having out-patient surgery this Wednesday. We’ll walk to the hospital together, I’ll stay during the surgery, and once the staff says Mike’s fine to go I’ll walk outside with him and we’ll catch a cab home. That was the plan, at least. But then Mike’s “Patient Information after Surgery” sheet came in the mail, and it said:

• You Must have a responsible party available to take you home.

So now, in addition to the anxiety any average person might have before going through surgery, Mike gets to add another worry. What happens if we arrive on Wednesday and the hospital staff decides his blind wife is not a “responsible party”? Might they delay the surgery?

Here’s an understatement for you: having a partner who is blind complicates your life. Some of the ways are obvious. Others, not so much. For a good glimpse into what it’s really like to love and live with someone who is blind, link to an essay by Lauren Bishop-Weidner in the latest Two Hawks Quarterly. Lauren’s piece is called On His Blindness; the “his” refers to Lauren’s husband Tom.

When we married at the ripe old age of 21, we both knew he had a slowly progressive eye disease, but the potential that he could become blind, the ramifications of living day-to-day with a disability, these were merely Star Trek holograms, no more real than old age or parenthood.

By 1993, Tom Weidner was a full professor and well-established scholar, father of three lively children. And he was blind.

That's Lauren Bishop-Weidner and Tom Weidner.

Being married to someone who is blind puts you in a funny spot. Everyone marvels at what the blind person can do independently. You stay behind the scene, unnoticed. Rather than applaud your efforts, outsiders assume you are a saint. Or a fool. And if you complain about your lot, even just a little bit, you feel guilty. You’re not the one who is blind, after all. Just look at your spouse. What if that were you?

Lauren’s essay is painfully honest. That’s why I like it so much. She describes the tedium of her husband’s nighttime routine (setting the talking alarm clock, painstakingly matching his clothing for the next morning) with such precise detail that you know she’s been watching him carefully — and lovingly — for a long, long time. She describes how Tom uses humor to make outsiders feel more comfortable around him, and admits she likes how her husband still pictures her in her early 30s. But she refuses to dismiss blindness as a minor inconvenience. She doesn’t write about how utterly normal and ordinary her husband is, how their life is just like everyone else’s, how his guide dog gets him everywhere he wants to go, no problem.

She and Tom manage just fine, just like Mike and I do. But sometimes, it’s complicated. Mike doesn’t want any surprises on the day of his surgery, so he called ahead and told them our circumstances. The woman who answered wanted to know what I would do if my guide dog needed to go outside. Mike told her I’d be able to handle that. She put him on hold. When she returned, she asked if they could call his wife when the surgery was over, she could come in a cab, wait downstairs, they’d bring him down to meet her there. He told them his wife wants to stay in the waiting room during surgery, you know, if something goes wrong she’d like to be there. The woman put her hand over the receiver and called out, “He says the blind woman wants to be there!” She took her hand from the receiver then and told Mike it should be okay, as long as he understood he might not be feeling that great after the operation.

If a friend picked up Mike, they’d take a cab–it’s easier than asking someone to drive downtown. The friend would simply meet Mike in the waiting room and ride the elevator with him. That’s what I’ll do. But my being there creates a spectacle and changes all that. I’ve been blind nearly 25 years now. I’m as used to it as I ever will be. Still, being blind creeps into my life — and Mike’s — in ways we never expect. Here in my blog posts, and in the other writing I do, I try to give you an idea of what it’s like to be blind. Lauren does a superb job of telling what it’s like to be on the other side. I hope you’ll read Lauren Bishop-Weidner’s piece in its entirety. It provides…well…a different “look” at blindness.

You might remember a post I wrote called Enter the Letters You See in this Box — If You Can See Them. I used that post to vent my frustration after attempting to vote on-line for the 2008 All Star team. I managed to fill out the ballot using my talking computer but couldn’t get past the CAPTCHA – that’s the box of distorted letters that shows up before you can hit the “submit” button. From that 2008 post:

Many sites using CAPTCHA have added an audio option. This probably makes them feel good about helping the blind. It might make sighted people who see that link feel good, too, to know those of us who can’t see have an option. Trouble is, those audio CAPTCHAs are impossible!

In that post I encouraged readers to link to the Gmail sign up page and click on “Listen and type the numbers you hear” to hear what I was talking about. A woman’s voice speaks numbers out loud, but creepy noises and voices talking backward in the background make it nearly impossible to figure out what she’s saying. Again, from that post:

In fact, the next time you get nostalgic for those mysterious backward-talking “Paul is Dead” clues on Beatles albums, you don’t have to get out your turntable and old LPs. Just link to an audio CAPTCHA.

Well gee, how things can change in two short years. Without my precious vote, Jermaine Dye, the White Sox outfielder I was pulling for in 2008 didn’t make the All Star team that year. This year, he didn’t even make the White Sox team, and now he isn’t playing baseball at all (although the rumor mill says a team may pick him up after the All-Star break). As for Major League Baseball, it has spent the past two years making major league efforts to ensure MLB.com is accessible to people with visual impairments! From an MLB.com press release:

This year’s All Star ballot is part of Major League Baseballs on-going commitment to the accessibility and usability of its website for fans with visual impairments. In February of this year, MLB announced its accessibility initiative in a joint press release issued with the American Council of the Blind.

This year’s All Star ballot still has an audio CAPTCHA, but no creepy background noises. The numbers are spoken out loud in a clear, succinct voice and you can hit the “repeat audio” link to repeat the same spoken numbers up to ten different times.

Hanni and I always love a baseball game.

You don’t have to go through any CAPTCHA hoops to leave a comment here on the Safe & Sound blog. Spam filters do a pretty good job. Major League Baseball’s site is a teeny tiny bit more complex than my Safe & Sound blog, though. Their on-line All Star ballot allows fans to vote up to 25 times for their favorite players, so I understand why they need CAPTCHA — they have to have some way to make sure that humans, and not automated computer programs, are the ones doing the voting. I’m just glad that when they decided to add an audio CAPTCHA, they used one that you can understand! This morning I was able to access the mlb.com web site with my talking computer and vote for White Sox first baseman Paul Konerko to make the All Star team. If I can do it, so can you!PS: Ever since I found out that White Sox pitcher Matt Thornton went to Grand Valley State University in Michigan, he’s been my favorite White Sox player. My sister Bev, my nephew Brian and niece Stacey all graduated from GVSU, a very fine school that developed a very fine (and humble) relief pitcher for our team. Thornton has struck out 47 and allowed one home run in 33 2/3 innings this year. He has also limited left- handed hitters to a .167 batting average with 29 strikeouts in 60 at- bats. A story in today’s Chicago Tribune says that when Matt Thornton’s hotel telephone rang Sunday morning he was worried his wife and 11-month daughter could be in danger. Instead, it was the White Sox director of team travel telling him that Yankees manager Joe Girardi had selected him for the All Star team.

“I’m kind of in shock that it happened,” said Thornton, who was planning to take his family to the zoo and perhaps visit relatives in Michigan during the All-Star break.

Thornton said he would lobby hard for teammate Paul Konerko, whose only chance of being selected to the July 13 All-Star game would be if he won the Final Vote ballot.

Fans can vote for Konerko at mlb.com through Thursday. And yes, he has the best numbers of any of the five candidates. Including Youk and Swisher.

A few years ago I wrote a newspaper story about two Chicago women who’d won a trip to the Academy Awards. They bought new outfits at a studio on N. Elston that names dresses after old movie stars.

One of the women would be wearing the Grace. Glancing down at her own figure, she laughed and said, “Maybe when I wear it, it’s a Liz!

That quote was taken out. “Readers who recognize your byline know you’re blind,” the editor told me. “A blind person couldn’t have known that woman was glancing down.”

I had been standing right next to the woman when she said it. I’d heard her voice go down, then up. I’d felt her movement. I knew she’d glanced at herself.

That's Trina Sotira, who led the session with me.

The editor stood her ground. The accuracy of the story might be questioned. The quote had to go.

I used this anecdote, along with many others, during a presentation Tuesday night called Writing the Unseen. The session was the brainchild of young adult novelist Trina Sotira. Trina is working on her PhD in literature, and it was oh so good to have her up there presenting with me — her writing exercises gave the session some cred. Here from an email sent by a participant:

A great big thank you to Beth Finke and Trina Sotira for their great workshop on writing with the senses! It was amazing to learn from Beth the various struggles she encounters being a blind writer and yet tap into her writing in new ways by using senses other than sight.

I’ve been using my other senses for so long that I guess I forget how “amazing” my stories sound sometimes. Another example I shared Tuesday night was a profile I wrote about the highest ranking female brigadier general. I was relieved to hear a photo would appear with the story. No need to describe in words what the general looks like.

Wrong. The story needed visuals, the editor told me. Its part of good journalism.

I could have just asked the editor what the photo looked like and written that into the story. But that didn’t seem, well, like good journalism. So I picked up the phone and called the general. Her secretary answered. I told her my predicament and asked if she could tell me what her boss looked like.

She thought about this a long while. Finally she said, “All of us around her, even though we know she’s only five foot one, think she’s seven feet.”

It was a great quote. I used it in the story. My editor was happy. She gave me another assignment: Interview Miss America. But then she withdrew her offer, asking how a blind woman could write about a beauty queen.

This made me all the more determined. I showed up for the interview with my Seeing Eye dog and asked Miss America the all-important question. “What do you look like? If this question had come from any other reporter, it might have thrown her off. But Miss America had poise. Plus, she’d looked in the mirror once or twice in her lifetime.

Erika Harold is bi-racial, and pretty comfortable describing herself. “I have caramel-colored skin, long brown hair, and very expressive brown eyes,” she told me. “I think it’s very hard for people to tell exactly what I am.”

That quote went right in the story. I may not be able to see, but I’m still able to ask questions. Sometimes having a disability can make a person pretty resourceful. Asking colleagues to describe the person I’m interviewing — or asking the person to describe themselves to me — makes for good quotes. Which, in turn, can make for good journalism.

This afternoon I’m giving a presentation to school teachers attending the Sandberg Literacy Institute at University of Toledo. Part of my job is to give them ideas of how to use Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound in the classroom. I figured heck, as long as I’m gathering resources to share with these teachers this afternoon, why not also share these terrific resources with you, my loyal blog readers?

An entire lesson plan devoted to Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound is right there for the taking on a web site called Learning to Give. The site suggests “Reading Experiences to Inspire Acts of Kindness,” and features lists and lists of activities for kids who read our book. Example:

During Reading

ASK: How does Hanni keep Beth safe during the day? What senses does Hanni need to use to help Beth?

SHOW: Look at the pictures of Hanni guiding Beth.

CONNECT: How is the way that Hanni takes care of Beth similar to how your parents or friends take care of you, or how you help others? For example, have you ever helped a younger child or elderly person cross a street or perform a task? Imagine what kind of help you would need if you could not see or hear or if you could not move easily.

The site also mentions Braille:

In addition to having special dogs to help them get places, those with a visual impairment also have a special alphabet that helps them read. This alphabet is called Braille. It is made up of dots that are raised off a piece of paper, so a person can feel them. All letters are made up of a combination of six dots. For more information, go to the Monroe County Women’s Disability Network webpage on Braille. Practice writing your name in Braille.

You can order Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound in a special print-Braille format (no illustrations) from Seedlings Braille Books for Children. Braille words appear directly under the printed words, providing visually-impaired children and their sighted parents and teachers a wonderful way to enjoy learning together. The Seeing Eye also offers oodles of resources for teachers and librarians.

And finally, this fantastic resource: Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound is one of the books on the Martha Speaks Read-Aloud Book Club list. Each book selected for the Martha Speaks Book Club is coordinated with a Martha Speaks episode on PBS. For Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound, PBS suggest kids watch an episode where Martha wants to pursue her dream of becoming a real firehouse dog, but then realizes the job is not as easy as it seems.
You can download this episode from the PBS Kids site here.

The Martha Speaks Read-Aloud Book Club resource guide is three pages long so I can’t go into all the details here. It does suggest inviting a special guest to read-aloud sessions, so if any of you teachers or librarians are thinking ahead about special events for the next school year, please know: Hanni and I would love to come.