Vaccines Are Coming, But There’s No Such Hope for My Blindness
It took scientists about 300 days to develop promising vaccines for the coronavirus. Meanwhile ancient ailments like degenerative loss of vision depend on age-old workarounds—like the cane I use everyday.
I’ve started walking with a white cane, and it’s a major pain in the ass. Try balancing the thing with a hot cappuccino, a plate with a blueberry muffin, and a computer bag dangling from your shoulder, and then attempt to find an empty table at a crowded Starbucks in Hong Kong. Then slap on a pandemic-preventing surgical mask, which slightly displaces your glasses so they slip off with any sudden movement.
But of course, I have no other option. My vision has withered to the point where getting around without a cane is even more troublesome than my morning Starbucks juggling act. At the very least, the cane will—I hope—prevent me from tumbling down an unforeseen staircase or smacking into a glass door like a daydreaming pigeon.