I am Curious

I had a thought.

I’ve filled the last couple posts with interesting, challenging, or difficult experiences. I have multitudes of these stories, however, if I only fill my posts with stories like this, it might get a little monotonous to read. Then, I thought, every time I actually talk to someone about my experience, they have tons of questions and curiosities of how I go about my daily life, how I accomplish certain tasks etc.. Heck, I have loads of questions for other blind folks myself.

So, what I want to know is…….what do you want to know?

Tell me what topics you’d like me to cover. Ask me questions that you are curious about. I wish to be an open book here, about the way I “see” the world, anyway. I’d love to devote posts to answering your questions, to mix up this thing a bit 🙂

I’ve grown so used to doing things differently, and it becomes so ordinary, that I forget that others may be curious.

So…tell me what you want to know! Post a comment on this page, send me an email to rebekah.m.cross@gmail.com, Facebook message me (if we’re friends on there), and I’ll save the topics and thoroughly answer your questions in future posts 🙂

Some examples of topics could be: How do you do your makeup? What do you do about reading? What is one annoying thing about the visual world? (mind you, those are just examples)

We’ll see how this little experiment goes!

Big News

Just a short post with some big news!

I have been accepted into guide dog school! That’s right my friends, pretty soon I will be marching to the beat of a furry, four legged drum. Or, in other words, I will have the keys to a “Mercedes” complete with fur trim.

I will be heading off to school in late August for three weeks, where I will get my teammate and learn to work with my new friend. It’s a good 6 months from now, which will give me time to mentally prepare, as well as get my ducks in a row around here, including working out a solution to deal with my lovely allergies, seeing as there will be two dandy dander-producers in the house (aside from the human ones).

Anyway, there is always much more to tell, but I just wanted to let everyone know of my news!

Crazy Commute

I thought I’d share with you all a crazy commute I had the other day. When you’re blind, the path of least resistance is to plan, plan, plan…especially when it comes from getting from point A to point B… and then keep to the plan. One hitch in the plan and life becomes confusing. But, life likes to throw wrenches in the best laid plans of men (and women).

My team at work was scheduled to make a presentation at our staff meeting, 9 am sharp. Knowing this, and contemplating how I sometimes run behind, I left my house extra early, so as not to risk being even a minute late. I walked to my normal place on the platform, happy to see the train coming soon after. I’m really going to be on time here!

My first train pulled up to my transfer station, and I got off, noting an excessive amount of people trying to get on the train. I walked across the platform and noticed that no one was getting on the other train…maybe they are already on there? As I stood there wondering, a woman came up to me and informed me that “they are making everyone get back on the other train.” I turned around to find the doors closing and the train pulling out. Argh. So much for that train. Now, I’ll be basically on time. That’s okay…that’s why I left early.

While I waited on the platform, I heard a garbled voice over the intercom saying something about a broken rail and no Q trains into Manhattan. I wondered if that would affect my own train, but since they didn’t say anything about it, I decided to wait to hear what the conductor in the next train would say. The next train pulled in, and I got on to try to transfer to my train into Manhattan at the next available station, pending the conductor didn’t mention a problem. And, they didn’t. When we pulled into the next transfer station other people were getting off, so I did too, and the second train I was on pulled away. As I stood there, an express train pulled in on the local tracks, and the conductor informed us that none of my usual trains were going into the city, and so now I was faced with two large transfers on my commute to work.

If a large terminal is confusing enough to a person with good vision, imagine how it would be to someone who lacks sight. Full of wide terminals and staircases going every which way…I avoid those stations like the plague. I stood on this third train, snaking along at a snail’s pace and planned out my route. There was no way I was making it to work on time now. This sucks. The one day I couldn’t be late.

The train pulled into Atlantic Terminal, my first huge transfer. Luckily, I knew this station pretty well, as Adam and I frequent it. I got off the train with the hoards of other people rushing to catch an alternate train and make it into work. Although I was going crazy on the inside, I knew I had to snake along at a snail’s pace like the train I was just on. I slowly made my way to where I thought the appropriate stairs would be, running into people all along the way. Suddenly, a woman came to my rescue. She asked where I was headed, took my arm, and walked with me toward the stairs. I’ve had to deflate my personal bubble long ago, due to having to hold people’s arms, running into folks, and dealing with random strangers grabbing me to lead me somewhere…even if I say I’m fine and don’t need help. Today, this woman was an angel. I was so relieved to have the assistance. As we walked up the stairs, she introduced herself, and lo and behold, we share the same first name. How funny. Interestingly enough, I was able to assist the other Rebekah in a small way myself. She was looking for the 1 train, which doesn’t run to Atlantic Terminal, but I was able to send her to the 2 and 3 trains which will transfer to the 1 at a later point. That was kind of cool, but I digress.

Rebekah got me to the bottom of the stairs of the next train I was to take, and I got on my fourth train for the day. First crazy transfer complete, now off to Grand Central Terminal…which I am not as familiar with.

I held the bar on the crowded train, again trying to plot my route. I couldn’t remember the route to the final train I needed. There was no way around it, I was going to have to flag someone down and ask the way. I’ve also had to deflate my pride long ago, due to actually needing help more often than I’d like to admit. The train pulled in, and I hopped off, arbitrarily choosing a direction to walk in.

Then another angel appeared. She asked if I was heading upstairs. In reply, I asked if she knew which way to the train I was looking for. It was in the opposite direction, and down the stairs. Good thing I asked her. Not only that, but she was taking the same train I was, so She walked with me to the next platform!

The train pulled in and I got on. The insanity was almost over. As soon as I got cell reception I texted my supervisor to let him know I was on my way, and that the commute was crazy. Now all I had to do was get to work. But what if the train drops me off in a different location on the platform than I am used to? Funny how you have to think of such small things when you can’t see. I’ve actually gotten lost on that very platform when I was just starting my job. Oh, well. If I could handle this morning’s commute, I can handle a silly platform. I got off the train, and had no problems getting the rest of the way to work. Once inside, I could’ve cried as the build up tension in my mind and body began to fade. Not only that, but it didn’t end up being a big deal that I was late, as the others seemed to understand my tardiness.

I took a few things away from this situation. For one, I realize I’m becoming bolder in the unfamiliar. This situation would’ve mortified me a few months ago, and it still kind of did, but I find myself being more ready to stand out in the crowd if it gets me where I need to be. Secondly, it is really comforting to know that even in the extreme hustle of the city; there are plenty of good people out there ready to help their fellow man. If you’re one of those people, don’t stop. Maybe it’s embarrassing and a bit uncomfortable, but what a blessing a simple act can be! Okay, I’ll stop being mushy now.

Dude…Where’s my Dog?

As I mentiponed in my last post, I applied for a guide dog last month. The process is long, at least six months, and is comprised of getting a lot of forms filled out by doctors (along with the necessary appointments), having a home interview, and a whole lot of waiting.

Wednesday was my home interview. I was warned in advance that the appointment may last 2 to 3 hours, so I took a half day from work. I knew there would be some amount of embarrassment, as I had been told over the phone that I would have to walk a route with my interviewer. I had also read somewhere that the interviewer would bring a harness and have me try it out. So, as I waited for my appointed time, I grew increasingly nervous.

K (I shall use only her first initial) arrived at around 8:30 in the morning. Adam was getting ready to leave, but was able to meet her and ask a few questions of his own about what owning a guide dog would be like. After a couple minutes, he had to be off, and K and I were left to begin the interview process. The whole point of the home interview is to determine whether or not the applicant will be well suited for a guide dog and if the environment is one that would be healthy for the dog. It costs an average of $48,000 to train one of these creatures; so in essence, getting a guide dog is like being given a Mercedes and taught how to drive it.

The first portion of the interview was long, but pleasant. I was asked a lot of questions about my lifestyle, where I go, what I like to do in my spare time, work and more. I also had to answer some of the same questions I filled out on my original application and medical form. At this time, I mentioned that I am allergic…to animals. *slaps forehead* When K heard this she asked “you understand that you are applying for a dog, right?” Of course I understand. I’m allergic to my cat, and I still got her… I tried to explain that I controlled my allergies generally, but she still recommended that I see an Allergist and wrote that in her report. Dang. More doctors. Did I mention I hate going to any kind of doctor? What is going to an Allergist going to tell me that I don’t know already? Wash your sheets, vacuum, air purifier, I’ve heard it all. Maybe they’ll recommend allergy shots. I’ve always wanted to try those…but, I digress. Oh well, if I have to see another doctor and spend a little to get a new Mercedes, it’s worth it. Although I am still kicking myself for mentioning my allergies to animals, K and I found common ground when I informed her that I am gluten intolerant, and what do you know, she is too! We talked all about living without wheat, alternatives, and I recommended some great places to eat whenever she is in the city.

After the questions about me were over, I was told about the school, how the dogs are raised, and how people get in. The school is located about an hour from the city, and students stay on the premises for the 21 day training period. Training is a bit like boot camp, but everyone has a great time and bonds over the mutual learning process. You don’t pick your own dog. Instead, the guide dog trainers pair you based on temperament and activity levels. The process on how dogs are trained is equally interesting. The school raises 98% black, chocolate, or yellow Labs, with the other 2% being German Shepherds that are spoken for years in advance. There is a special lab where the genetics of the dogs are tested, and the most intelligent and well mannered are picked carefully to be bred. Once these special dogs are born, the are trained in the basics by volunteer puppy raisers, who take the dogs into their houses, socialize them, and teach them to behave. At some point during their puppy life, the dogs are given a temperament test. Only about 50% of the already specially bred dogs are accepted into being trained to be a guide. The other half become police dogs, airport security dogs, or therapeutic dogs for children with Autism. Wow, this is the cream of the crop! Somewhere between the ages of 12-18 months, the dogs are taken back to the school grounds for four months of guide dog training. After that, students are brought to the school and trained with the dog.

Acceptance into the program is determined by a committee and is similar to the process of getting into a desirable college. The committee reviews all the material from the forms submitted, the home interview, and whether or not the applicant is recommended for acceptance by the interviewer, and makes a decision on who is best for the program. Then the wait begins. Right now, the wait is 6-7 months from the time of acceptance, and I don’t even have all my forms in yet.

After being informed of the process, it was my turn to ask some questions. Once my curiosity was satisfied, it was time to hit the pavement. Before going outside, I had to sign a video waiver. Yes folks, I was about to be videotaped for the committee. Oh, boy. We journeyed outside. It had begun to drizzle. At least it’s not snowing, I thought. Locking my door, I turned around. Let the embarrassment begin!

First, I had to introduce myself. Wishing this could’ve been done inside, I swallowed my embarrassment and introduced myself and the ol’ Bob to the committee, and then it was time to walk. I traveled down to the subway entrance, then turned and crossed the thoroughfare that runs past my house, then walked a couple blocks down the other direction, all the time being filmed by K. Now, the real “fun” begins.
To preface this next portion, I live in the busiest part of my neighborhood. My apartment is on the main road through the neighborhood, and perpendicular to that is the busiest shopping district in the area. It had begun to rain harder as I finished walking with Bob. At that time, K told me to put away my stick because it was time to pull out the harness. NOOOOOOOOO! With everything inside me, I wished that this examination and familiarization process could’ve taken place inside, but it wasn’t, and I had to go through this in front of hundreds of folks milling around on foot or in cars. To top it off, we were almost directly across the street from my landlords’s store, and I hoped to goodness I didn’t have to explain this behavior later.

K pulled out the harness, which was void of dog, and had me examine the leash and handle. After I had checked it all out, it was time to go for a walk. I dealt with this uncomfortable situation as I deal with all others, by cracking lots of jokes and laughing through the humiliation. I was instructed on the commands I was to give the nonexistent dog, the name Juno that I was to call the oxygen filling the harness, and the hand motions I was to use. Once this was sorted, we were off. “Juno, forward.” I said, and K pulled the harness along, down the thoroughfare, in front of my daily surroundings. We made it to the curb. “Now, praise the dog,” K instructed. Am I really doing this? I thought as I bent over and pretended to scratch the ears of the nonexistent dog. Now, turn to the right. “Juno, right.” I was led right, then across the road, and then down the street near my house, which just happened to have one of the busiest stores in Brooklyn. And, now it gets more interesting. I have to reprimand the dog. K jerks the harness down “No!” I yell and jerk the leash. I wonder what the passersby are thinking when this woman jerks a harness without a dog filling it downward and the holder of the harness reprimands it? Oh well, nothing I can do about it. The harness jerks again. “No!” This happens about three more times. We rounded the block and eventually made it to the front door of my house, where I had to learn the other way of reprimanding a dog, directly in front of the neighboring business. But, then it was over.

K told me that pending I see an allergist, I would be a great fit for a guide dog and she was going to recommend to the committee that I be accepted. After a hug and a thank you, I went upstairs to dry off and get ready for work.

This was probably one of the more embarrassing experiences of my life, but as I look back, I think to myself about the amount of embarrassing things people do on game shows to win $40k, and then I think, this interview was like my non-TV version of a game show. If I end up being accepted, the embarrassment will be worth it anyway.

Here’s hoping I do!

I Got Lost

This story happened to me about a month ago, during the extreme cold snap. (I warn you, it is a little long).

The temperature was in the single digits, with a wind chill of bitterly cold negatives. It had snowed a few days before, and now piles of snow lay everywhere where it had been shoveled or plowed off the path. Snow is beautiful, but is also one of the arch-nemeses of a blind person walking with a stick. The blanket of frozen water covers landmarks that are necessary to hit with the stick to orient yourself, and snow piles are completely unpleasant to climb. Nevertheless, I made my way to work as usual…I can’t let a little snow keep me down.

For some reason, I wasn’t wearing my sunglasses, which blinded me even more than usual, as everything was reflecting the sun, and I couldn’t see much but neon lights in my eyes. As I walked my usual path from the train, I noted that a sidewalk that had been previously covered with snow had been shoveled, making it easier to walk today. Sweet. I hurried along. I work near water, which always amplifies the wind. Today, the never-ending wind was cutting right through my coat, gloves, and shoes, and my fingers and toes were going numb fast.

I made it to the corner. My office building is just across the street. I’m in the home stretch…hurray! There is only one problem with this street crossing…no traffic light. There is a traffic light on the next block over, but it is way too cold and snowy to walk an extra 2 blocks just to catch the light. Besides, this road isn’t too heavily trafficked, but when the cars come – they come fast. This fact makes me extra cautious, as I don’t particularly want to become an asphalt pancake. So I always wait extra long to make sure there are no cars coming.

When it snows, every corner becomes the home of a giant snow pile, and this corner is no exception. Except today, I found the pile to be larger than it was the day before, which is weird because it hadn’t snowed. I climbed the pile and stood there with the wind constantly cutting through my coat, and waited until I was sure there was no traffic. Then, from a car in the street I hear “Go. Go go! Go now!” the person was obviously trying to get me to cross the street. I took the cue and scrambled over the pile to get across. “Straight, straight…you’re almost there. Go straight!” I had hit the corner of the street “I want to go left!” I yelled back, and turned the corner, hitting a snow drift. What the…? This wasn’t here before… I walked on. Getting to the end of the block, I turned the corner, happy to finally get to the office. Bang! I hit…a car??? What is going on here?? Why is a car parked on the sidewalk in front of the door? I walk around the car, but no door was to be found. Now, I was freaking out. My fingers and toes were completely numb, and I had no clue where I was. Frantically, I took out my phone and tried to launch my GPS app. I had to take off my gloves and could barely operate the phone. Plus, the voice over was on an extremely low volume, since last time I had used it in my house. I tried to get the speaker louder, but my fingers didn’t want to work. Finally I got it loud enough to tell me where I was. The address made no sense. It had the same street name, but was a block over? Panic mode set in. My hands and feet hurt. How could this have happened? I did everything the same as usual…and how am I here? I couldn’t feel my fingers to type an address into my GPS. I stood there frozen, trying to figure out my next plan of action.

Then…an angel emerged from the building I was standing in front of. I never do this, but I called to get his attention. I told him where I was looking for, and after some thought he surmised that it was probably the building across the road. I thanked him, and headed with uncertainty that way. He asked if I needed help. I answered that I would be okay, but after seeing my disoriented condition, he decided to accompany me anyway. As we walked, he asked if it was my first day. “No, I’ve worked here almost 6 months. I have no clue how this could have happened.”

When we came to the building I realized that I had landed diagonally on the opposite corner of the building than I should have been, and we walked around the corner. I thanked him profusely, and went to work, perplexed at what had just happened.

All day I thought about it. I couldn’t figure out how that happened. Finally I came to this conclusion, and it is still the only one that makes sense – When the guy in the car was yelling at me to go, I scrambled over the pile on a diagonal, not straight. Since I wasn’t wearing my sunglasses, I was more blinded than usual, and didn’t see the shadow of my building, and so ended up on the opposite side of the street facing the wrong way. I turned left as usual, but walked down the wrong block. Mystery solved.

It’s rather embarrassing that I got lost on a block I know so well. A little scary too. When pondering over this, I decided that I was going to apply for a guide dog, something I have been considering for months, but always too undecided to start the process. This situation made my decision. I know these dogs can learn frequented locations. There is no way I would’ve gotten lost with a dog.

Long story longer, I have applied and will be writing about my journey to dog-dom.

Meet Bob

Before I get into writing too many posts, I thought I should introduce you to my friend Bob and tell you where he came from, as his name will, no doubt, come up in some of my stories.

So who is this Bob fellow? Well, Bob is the tool I hate to love and love to hate…Bob is a little shorter than me, and never tans. He is stick thin and sports a black flat-top ‘do. He’s always two steps ahead of me, but tends to trip me up from time to time… Bob is my “cane.”

How Bob and I met:
A little over a year ago, I caved. After years of stubbornly refusing, I finally succumbed to learning how to walk with a “long white cane,” also known to some as a “blind cane,” “mobility cane,” or just a “cane.” Well, I was having some trouble dealing with the psychological aspects of even being seen with this staff of white and red reflective “glory,” and even worse was the name. I refused, and still refuse to call the thing by its rightful name. The word “cane” has such negative connotations associated with it in my opinion, conjuring up images of frailty or helplessness when mentioned. So, I began calling the thing my “walking stick,” but even that wasn’t enough.

I hated the thing so much, it was absolutely necessary that I do something to remove some of my negativity towards this object. With that in mind, I decided to personify it by giving it a name, and therefore, a great code name as well. I christened my stick “Bob” about a year ago, and refer to it as Bob since. Why is this relevant? Well, you’ll often find me referring to “Bob” and if you didn’t know what I meant by this, some of my stories may be a little confusing 😉

In essence, that is how Bob came to be. We’ve had a rocky relationship, but are learning to live with one another, one day at a time.

Every Blog Needs an Introduction


So, you’ve stumbled upon my blog, or I’ve shared it with you. Either way. Every good blog needs an introductory post as to why it has been started, and here’s mine:


I have been dealing with progressive vision loss for 13 years…well, I’ve been dealing with it all my life, but I have only known about it since the age of 15, when I was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa. Since then, my life has been a series of re-evaluating and learning to live with a “new normal.” The only problem is, every time I get used to a new normal, it changes, and I am forced to adapt once again. For all these countless new normals, I have started a handful of blogs that never got past the first two or three posts. But, here I am again, putting fingertip to keyboard in an attempt to share…well something anyway.


Honestly, this is sort of a New Year’s Resolution; albeit a month late. For the past month, I have been going back and forth in my mind as to whether I really wanted to take a stab at the writing thing again. However, after various exchanges with people – some strangers and some friends- I realize the general goings-ons of a person in my shoes is interesting to others. With that in mind, and armed with a few motivational quotes for courage, I’ve decided to go for it.


In closing of my introductory post, I hope you, whoever you may be, will find encouragement, humor, insight, or at least entertainment from the stories of my life.


I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do. –Leonardo da Vinci