Skip to main content

A Desert Isle

1Momentarily sad, and at the extreme risk, of being repetitive, I am frustrated. Why? Let me just state my sincere appreciation for having access to an AAC device, also known as a speech generation device. Without it, I would be trapped in a heinous episode of Twilight Zone or Black Mirror, having a lot to say and not be able to say anything. And in this day and age of technological "miracles". Heinous.

I am one of the fortunate ones, whose insurance covered my device, with my diagnosis. I have A.L.S., also known as amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig's Disease. It's a terminal illness, but before it kills us, it robs us of everything we have and everything we are. The ability to walk, raise our hands, dress and feed ourselves, talk, gesture, and, ultimately, breathe. But I'm here to discuss the ability to discuss, to voice an opinion, to rise up "as it were" and be counted. 

I am a fully cognizant individual, informed, college-educated, and I matter.  To be "locked-in", a prisoner in my body, is criminal. My augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) device allows me express opinions, needs, desires, and, ultimately, myself. I would be miserable and, likely, dead without it.

I have a wonderful machine, a Tobii I-series, I-15, to be precise. I bought it back in 2013, just before the appalling Medicare shut-out, which denied this life-saving device to so many who needed it. But I am sad and frustrated, as I stated. I paid to have my device "unlocked", meaning that I use my device to, also, access the internet. And, yet many of my favorite websites do not function properly, or fully.

I'm not talking about porn sites or fringe anti-social sites. I just want to be able to keep up with friends and family, because, God knows, they are not wanting to fight traffic, spend time and money to visit a woman who cannot keep up on a conversation, and reminds them of their own fleeting mortality. I'm just saying. I'm talking about FaceBook, Blogger, Yahoo, PatientsLikeMe, Dictionary, KCLS, (public library), GoodReads, and Shutterfly. Whoa, I just realized, I am boring! 

On  FaceBook, people don't understand why I don't engage, like I used to. I used to "Like" pictures of their puppies, kids, grandkids, cute sayings, funny jokes, etc. Nowadays, I cannot select the Like button, even though  I try up to four times, waiting for the slow network in between selections. Same deal on comments and share. And most of the time I have to forego using private messaging, notification, and friend requests.

On Blogger, I am unable to select different fonts, change font sizes, choose different font properties, choose different margin justifications, nor cut, copy, and paste to edit efficiently. Do you know how difficult it is to get your thoughts out, cohesively, the first time, or just be satisficed when you know damn well, you could get your point across better, if only you were able to tweek it, just a bit?

And let's have us a discussion about Shutterfly. This is the website I chose to house all of my photos, so I could have access to them when I could no longer, physically, lift a mere piece of paper.  Imagine my heartbreak at never having access to them again, because my AAC device does not recognize any part of it!

You are starting to get a taste of what I go through each day, but not really, these are just the things that I know I must live without. Using eye gaze technology, I must choose different functions by the numbers. Not a big deal, except that the numbers change even AFTER I have made a selection. Making function selection a moving target. Annoying. 

And we shall never know how many blogposts have been vaporized out into the ether, due to miscues on the part of my AAC device.  Heartbreaking. 

Of course, you are also, blissfully, unaware of the inherent shortcomings of my Tobii. There is: no text prediction to speed input; no cut, copy, and paste to edit; no button nor shortcut to move through words, nor sentences.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Remember...

I remember catching fireflies,  putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field.  That field was my...

On-the-job Sass

I continue getting sass from one particular caregiver. He says, "You need to communicate with us." he continues to completely miss or dismiss the concept of I would if I could . It is part and parcel to having ALS, I am losing my ability to communicate and it is his job to assist me. Part of helping me, like it or not, is to learn my routine and anticipate needs, when possible. He misses the fact that I'm failing more every day and night time is when I'm weakest. It is extremely insensitive and arrogant to expect me to cater to his needs and expectations. Pushing me to repeat words or expound on a simple one word suggestion is physically taxing on my system, adding stress which further depletes me. Cuing is supposed to be caregiver's domain, not the patient's. Here is the situation, I am being changed. In the midst of the action, as seems to be his practice, he is sidelined asking me trivial, meaningless, but energy-sapping questions. Do I want my legs raise...

Managed

Managed care, do not get me started. It is the bane of my existence and my savior. If quadriplegia has curtailed my activities, and it has, then being in a home has curtailed even more. I've had to dumb it down and set my standards low. Gone, are the halcyon days of getting in my wheelchair to go for a stroll or sit in the sun, or even sit in the sun room. Neither the nurses, nor patient care technicians, know how to put me in my wheelchair. Seriously. My chair has head controls and it is a bafflement. Most caregivers don't even realize I have head controls. First, they hit the left head pad when they lift the armrest which turns the chair on. Next, they sling me over and place me in the chair. The problem? My head, naturally, rests on the headrest, which accelerates and drives the chair and is beyond my control. Running over a caregiver or running myself into an obstruction are very real consequences of their ignorance. What could be worse? The caregivers remain clueless abo...