Yesterday, with some trepidation, I committed to writing a post a day for the month of November as part of #NaBloPoMo for the first time.
Today, what I feel is more like panic.
What the hell do I talk about now?
I guess, for a start, what makes me, me. But the me that you don’t get from the About Me page.
I was born in Montreal, very prematurely and weighed in at two pounds. And that presented a challenge for the medical profession in the early 1950s. So, into an incubator I went, where a steady supply of oxygen kept my lungs and my brain going. But, in those days, the intense supply of pure oxygen destroyed the fragile eyes, and I lost most of my sight. I don’t see anything in the left eye but a vague sliver of light, and I see 10% in my right eye, which makes me legally blind.
Simply put, if I look at the standard eye chart with my ‘good’ eye, I can’t read the large E at the top. Mind you, I know it’s an E, it’s been an E for 60 years, but I don’t see it clearly. I’ve been telling ophthalmologists for years to change up their eye charts so I don’t feel so smug!
I grew up pretty well doing what every other ‘normal’ kid did, with the exception of riding bikes or go-karts, and went to ‘regular’ school, thanks to the determination of my mother, who resisted numerous attempts to persuade her to put me in a special school. I often call myself a good fake, and I credit my upbringing with that.
I went to McGill University, and got a First Class Honours degree in Classics, so I was proficient in Ancient Greek and Latin. I figured that with my knowledge of dead languages, I should go into teaching, so I applied to get my Masters in Education.
Imagine my shock and dismay when I was rejected, because I “wouldn’t be able to teach normal people”!
That’s when my life changed, forever and for the better.
Stay tuned for Chapter Two tomorrow:-)