Tag Archives: Braille

Adaptations and Services I’ve Used to Overcome My Disabilities

Last year, I wrote a post describing my limitations in as much detail as I could then. I got the idea from a disability discussion E-mail list that I was a member of in like 2004. The next discussion topic on the list was to go into adaptations you’ve used to overcome your limitations. Today, I will share about these.

As a toddler, I seem to have gotten by mostly without adaptations. I did have low vision, motor ipairments and was socially a little immature, but nothing too dramatic. I did have many colds until my tonsils and adenoids were removed at age four. I also saw a lot of specialists. For example, when I was about four, I was seen by some kind of rehabilitation physician because I neeed a cast on my left foot. I got lots of physical therapy and other early intervention too. However, I attended a regular preschool and Kindergarten until I fell apart in the spring of my second year of Kindergarten. Kindergarten always takes two years here, but I didn’t finish my second year because of needing to go to a special school that didn’t have a Kindergarten. Instead, I started in first grade early.

At around this age, I mostly got adaptations for my fine and gross motor impairments. For example, I got adapted scissors to be able to cut shapes out without needing to exert too much strength. I also got a large tricycle funded through the local disability services when I was about eight. I’m confused as to where my parents got the necessary doctor’s signature to get this mobility equipment. I mean, I must’ve seen a rehabilitation physician to declare that I had a severe enough mobility impairment, but I wonder whether the ophthalmologist agreed I had enough vision to cycle safely.

Of course, I did have some adaptations for my vision at this point too. I started reading large print in first grade. In fact, I had taught myself to read at around age five with large rub-on letters my Mom would put into little books for me.

By the end of first grade, I had to learn Braille because my vision was deteriorating. I got long keys on my Braille typewriter so that again I didn’t need to exert as much strength. For reading, at first the teachers would provide my Brailled assignments with double line breaks, because I had a hard time with it otherwise. Eventually, I could read Braille just fine, but it didn’t become my preferred reading method until I got a computer.

I still did use the vision I still had. In fact, I stll do, even though I only have light perception and a little light projection left. At age ten or eleven, I got a handheld magnifier. I remember using it to see the large print atlas we had in fifth and sixth grade, even though I really couldn’t make out anything on it.

By the time we moved across the country when I was nine, my parents stopped taking me to medical specialists. There was nothing to be done about my eyesight getting worse and worse and I no longer needed specialist care for my other disabilities. That is, this is my parents’ version of the truth. I think they may be right but there are some things that just don’t add up. Like, from age twelve on, I was accused of deliberately having an odd posture. Guess what? At age fifteen, the school doctor discovoered I had scoliosis. I had to have physcal therapy again.

At age thirteen, I started regular secondary school. I was functionally blind by this time and did my schoolwork on a computer with Braille display. I also got tactile graphics for the STEM subjects and tactile maps for geography. I also got lots of other nifty math tools, most of which I could barely use. I couldn’t even use tactile graphics much at all.

Like I said, I was discharged from all medical specialists at around age nine. At nineteen, when I graduated secondary school, I went back into care at the rehabilitation center for the blind. Besides orientation and mobility, housekeeping and other blindness-related training, I had to get physical therapy again for my scoliosis.

In 2007, I was finally diagnosed with autism and landed in the psychiatric hospital (not at the same time, mind you). My current psychiatrist remarks that I got little in the way of treatment there and she’s right. At first, it was thought I just needed to be moved into a group home and all would be fine, then when I got my last psychologist, it was decided I just needed a good kick in the behind and to move into independent livng as soon as possible.

Now that I’m 31, I don’t really use many adaptive devices other than my Braille display and my white cane, the latter of which I use more for stability than for its intended purpose. My iPhone has a built-in screen reader and I guess it won’t be long until NVDA is almost as good as JAWS for a computer screen reader. NVDA is free and open source, whereas JAWS costs several hundreds of dollars (that thankfully currently health insurance pays for).

I said eye doctors goodbye for good (except when I need a note to say I’m blind) in 2013 when my last chance to get a little sight back failed. I still see a psychiatrist, though my medcation regimen hasn’t changed in years. I have a community psychiatric nurse, whom I see biweekly for dialectical behavior therapy. As for my mobility, I’m due to see my GP on Wednesday to ask about this and about any treatments or adaptations that could help me improve.

Naptime Natter

Adaptations I’ve Used for My Disabilities

A few months ago, I wrote a post in which I described my limitations in as much detail as I could. I had just agreed to settle on a brain injury diagnosis rather than autism, so had to figure myself out all over again. Since then, that diagnosis was revised several more times and I finally decided to want a second opinion. I want answers to what’s going on with me.

The good point of that post I wrote, however, is that I felt free to describe my limitations in a non-judgmental way. As a follow-up, I am going to write a post today on the adaptations I’ve used throughout my life for dealing with these limitations.

The first adaptations I remember using, when I was about four, were not for what most people think of as my primary disability, ie. blindness. When I was four or five, I had to have my left foot in a cast to prevent my heel cord from becoming too short. This problem is common in children wth motor difficulties like cerebral palsy, though it occasionally happens to children with other neurological conditions too. I also had limited strength in my hands, so I got to use scissors which bounce back automatically. When I finally got to use a Braille typewriter, it had lengthened keys which were easier to press, too.

When I went to the school for the visually impaired at the end of Kindergarten, I was introduced to large print adn later Braille. I started learning Braille when I was seven-years-old. Because I was a print reader before I became a Braille reader, I had an advantage and a disadvantage. I could already read and knew my letters, but Braille wasn’t my first written language. I didn’t become truly proficient at Braille till I was around twelve and still can’t read it as fast as some blind people.

Apparently, around age seven, I had enough vision to ride a bike. I didn’t have the balance though. I still don’t know whether it was my parents being pushy or I truly had enough vision to safely ride a bike, but in any case I got a large trike paid for through the city department of disability services. My parents transported it to our new city when we moved when I was nine, even though this required approval from the authorities. I used the tricycle for about five years, until I became too blind to safely ride it even for purely leisurely purposes in my quiet neighborhood.

By the time I transferred to the school for the blind at age nine, I no longer needed most adaptations for my motor difficulties. I could use a regular Braille typewriter and in fourth grade, we weren’t crafting anymore anyway, so no scissors. I had also by this time become a full-time Braille user, though particularly in fifth and sixth grade I still peeked at the large print atlas every now and again. I got a handheld magnifier for my birthday or St. Nicholas around that time, because without it I couldn’t use the atlas. I had a large collection of tactile maps too, which I also loved.

When I was eleven, I got my first laptop with Braille display. I had occasionally used my parents’ computer before then, but had by this time long been too blind to even see very large letters on the screen. I tried for a bit to use a screen magnifier on the school computer, but I quickly learned to use Braille and syntehtic speech on my own computer.

I also had a white cane, of course. I started cane travel lessons when I was around seven, but rarely used my cane until I was fourteen. Then, when I had entered eighth grade in mainstream education, I had realized I was going to look blind compared to all fully sighted fellow students anyway so I’d better use a cane.

I went through school using mostly my computer for learning. We had a number of tactile educational materials, but I rarely used these. I hated tactile drawings, because I had an extremely hard time figuring them out.

In college and university, I used my computer with Braille display only. I also had gotten a scanner, so that I could scan books that weren’t available in accessible formats. A few years ago, I bought myself an OpticBook scanner that is especially good for scanning books. I rarely used it though, because eBooks became accessible to screen reader users in like 2013. I also rediscovered the library for the blind and last summer, like I’ve said, became Bookshare member.

I never used adaptations for cognitive impairments even after my autism diagnosis. I wanted to learn to use some and I still badly want to get a weighted blanket someday. I also am currently exploring adaptations for my fine motor issues. Because I felt more secure this way, I did for a while use a mobility cane. However, it was too long, then when someone had sawn off a piece it was too short. Also, it isn’t safe to use a mobility cane for me without also using my white cane and because of limited use of my left hand, I can’t use both. The adaptive equipment store does sell mobility canes with the white cane look, but these only have the advantage of making one recognizable as blind. They can’t be used for feeling around for obstacles. I could of course use a mobility cane with the white cane look in place of my white cane when walking sighted guide. However, I have learned to use my white cane for some support. The main reason I choose to use my white cane rather than a mobility cane with white cane look, however, is that I feel too self-conscious. I feel that I’m not mobility-impaired enough for this. I do wonder whether I’d feel more confident walking if I had a mobility cane, but I fear people will judge me for exaggerating my disability.

A Reluctant Braille Reader’s Journey

A few days ago, I was contacted by Mary Hill from Mary-andering Creatively, whose blog is mostly on literacy. She asked me to write about autism and literacy, but I have little knowledge of this subject, partly because I wasn’t diagnosed with autism till age 20. I also do not know which of my difficulties learning to read were due to blindness and which were due to autism. I believe, in fact, that most of my difficulties were due to a lack of motivation.

I was a fairly early reader of print. When I was four or five, my mother made little books with large rub-on letters. Each page had one word on it and the books had a theme, such as “house” or “school”. In the Netherlands, at the time, kids didn’t learn to read till age six. I could read first-grade early reader books by the time I entered the special education equivalent of first grade.

By the time I had to learn Braille at age seven, however, I started to hate reading. It wasn’t that I didn’t like books, magazines or anything with letters in it. In fact, I’d listen to children’s books and magazines on tape all the time. I just didn’t like, or rather I hated, learning Braille. It was probably that learning Braille reminded me of the fact that I was rapidly losing my vision. After all, I did read print books till I’d lost so much vision that even giant print didn’t work for me anymore. This meant that, at age nine, I’d still be reading early learner books because of the large print. I had too little vision for low vision aids.

I continued to hate reading Braille till I got a computer at age eleven. Even then, I strained to read from the screen, magnifying the font six to eightfold. When I really needed to use another sense than vision, I rather used my text-to-speech software.

It was probably the annoying, robotical voice of the text-to-speech software that turned me into a Braille reader. By the time I entered mainstream secondary school at age thirteen, I could read computerized Braille with relative ease. I however still rarely touched Braille books. This may’ve been more a matter of convenience, as Braille books are bulky.

I did for a while read Braille books again through the UK’s national library service for the blind when I was nineteen. Unfortunately, some books were lost while being returned, so I was refused further library services. Now I enjoy a mixture of eBooks, which I read with Adobe Digital Editions and my screen reader, and DAISY digital talking books. I still hope to someday be able to subscribe to BookShare, the U.S.-based accessible book sharing site, but as I said before, my doctor still hasn’t filled out the proof of disability form.

Everyday Gyaan

Also linking up with Literacy Musings.

What I’d Put in a Time Capsule #TuesdayTen

As Lisa of The Golden Spoons writes, in December of 2014, a time capsule was found in Boston, which dates back to 1795. I also heard that in 1938, people created a similar time capsule (I don’t know whether it’s been opened yet). In 1998, people all over the Netherlands wrote letters to the future, a selection of which was published in a book and the rest of which will be opened in 2098.

Lisa asks what we would put in a time capsule if we could create one. The big problem is that technolgy advances so fast that the technology of today will be useless by 2235. So I’d have to resort back to low-tech stuff because they probably wouldn’t be able to open the text file in which I write my post now. So here goes what I’d put in.


  1. A letter. I’d have to print it out because today’s Microsoft Office can’t even read documents from 1995, so I bet the technology of 2235 will have big problems with the old-fashioned typing I do, as I said. Like Lisa, I would write who I am and explain about the contents of the box.

  2. A copy of my blog. I don’t know whether I even want to include my old blog. You know, the one I always just refer to as “the old blog” and refuse to ever link to even though it’s still online. Maybe I would.

  3. My old diaries. I’m afraid they have been typed in that 1995 MS Word format that Word 2013 can’t read (they date back to 1999 but I was really old-fashioend in terms of technology), so a print copy would have to do then. It’s going to be a big time capsule. I won’t ever publish my diaries online (well, except for that one entry I published for a writing prompt a while back), but I don’t care what the people of 2235 think of me. My diaries are written in Dutch.

  4. Music. I only have a small selection of recent songs and they are not a representation of what’s hot today, but well.

  5. A picture of myself just so people know my face. Not that anyone on my blog knows except if they find me on social media, as I still haven’t gotten my husband to send me a recent pic of myself, but well.


  6. A Braille letter typed by hand. Knowledge of the Braille alphabet is declining among blind people with the advancement of text-to-speech technology, so who knows whether it still exists by 2235.

  7. A Braille display, for the same reason as above but it’s actually current technolgoy.

  8. My list of medications. I wouldn’t be able to include the medicine itself as it’d go off, but I’d love to educate the people of 2235 about what nut cases like me get prescribed today. I bet they’d laugh their butts off.

  9. My phone. Not that it’s particularly hot in 2015, as I have had a Samsung E1130 since probably 2011, but well.

  10. Money. I’d be curious to know whether the Euro still exists by 2235 – or even 2035, but I may find that one out as I will probably still be alive by then.

The Golden Spoons

Encouraging Children to Read

I was an early but reluctant reader, especially when I had to start reading braille. Before then, I had liked to read, although I never quite moved along because there weren’t any large print books for my reading comprehension level. I was a very slow reader in both print and braille. Still am a slow braille reader. That kept me from getting into the interesting stuff for a long while, because for whatever reason, reading speed is automatically assumed to be related to reading comprehension.

I grew up in a family of readers. My father still doesn’t read much fiction for fun, but he, like me, reads stuff related to his interests. My mother and sister are both traditionally literate fiction lovers. The thing keeping me from reading fiction is mostly that I don’t have the concentration to stick to a book. I have gotten to like it more though as my reading speed has increased.

When encouraging kids to read, however, realize that reading is everywhere especially if your child can read print. I grew up with the idea that reading comic books and the closed captioning on the TV is not “real” reading. Indeed, if a child is to be successful at school, they have to learn to read books, but for daily life tasks, it is at least as important to be able to read reminders on the refrigerator. I also believed the misconception that reading from a computer screen is not “real” reading. In reality, this is the most likely source of reading your child will encounter when they grow up. I’m from a different generation than today’s kids, of course, but I for one get 99% of my reading experience through my computer.

There are many good tips for encouraging kids to read. The most important part for me is that reading needs to be a choice, not a chore. Of course, kids will get reading homework. It may seem logical to ask that reluctant readers read more than their school dictates. I for one spent countless nights in fifth and sixth grade reading material assigned by my parents. I know that it is important that kids learn to read as well as they can, and that, with otherwise academically capable children, it’s hard to see them lag behind in reading. However, you can still twist necessary reading to make it fun. Model the right attitude. For example, when I was reading the Dutch translation of Alice in Wonderland in sixth grade, my father read it in English to show that he was taking on a challenge as well. This also allowed for an opportunity to discuss the book.

For me, the transition form reading print to braille was particularly difficult. It didn’t help that braille books are not that commonplace in the Netherlands. In the U.S., there is the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest which makeschildren feel special yet not alone. I’m not sure if such an event existed in the Netherlands.

The computer can, for braille readers, be a hindrance to literacy, if they prefer to use synthetic speech. For me, the computer saved my reading ability, as I hate synthetic speech. I don’t know how today’s teachers of the visually impaired encourage braille reading in their students. I do know that the adult rehabilitation center only encourages it for labels and such. I understand that.

Ten Patches This Autistic Person Could Use

The Golden Spoons

This is my first time participating in the Tuesday Ten. I’ve been wanting to for a while, but usually I found other things to blog about on Tuesday. Either that, or I simply forgot. The theme for this week is “I need a patch for that”, because this is the weird holdiay celebration tomorrow. Lisa of The Golden Spoons, one of the hosts, wrote ten patches every mother needs. I got thinking about that. I’m not a Mom, so I can’t really expand on those. Then I got thinking: what would I like patches for? And here’s a list of pathes this autistic person would need. Some of them can be seen as “cures” for certain symptoms of autism, while others are work-around patches and still others are patches for the social stigma and misunderstanding I encoutner.


  1. An anti-overload patch. Even though traditional autistic advocates say they would never take medication to hear or feel less, I certainly would. The thing about a patch, however, is that I can put it on and take it off again, unlike the daily medication I currently take for overload-caused irritability.

  2. An energy patch. Stole this one from Lisa, but I too think I could benefit from it. Living as an autistic can be quite exhausting, after all.

  3. A tolerance patch. To put on others when they have a strikingly intolerant attitude. Mostly staff, that is, so I don’t know how I’d get them to put it on, given that their attitude would prevent them from seeing they need it.

  4. A translation patch. I usually misunderstand people and, rather than putting on a “communicate like a neurotypical” patch, I’d like a translator that sits between me and the neurotypical.

  5. An easy text-to-speech patch. While we’re communicating anyway, I’d like to be able to write rather than speak. While text-to-speech apps are already available, I’d like one that I can easily use and that doesn’t make me look like a weirdo. I’d also like it to translate from speech to text (or braille, in my case). I’ve honestly been thinking of wanting a Communicator, which is a device used by deafblind people, but they’re very expensive and I’m not eligible for funds. i’m verbal, after all.

  6. A patience patch. Again, this one is stolen from Lisa, and I’d like to put it on others again, though I could myself use some patience at times.

  7. A perseveration patch. The good thing about patches again is the ability to put them on and take them off. Today, I’ve been looking everywhere for some perseveration, while at other times, I’m totally immersed in my special interest.

  8. An antidepressant patch. I don’t suffer from clinical depression, but I do have days when I’m very depressed. Again, like the anti-overload patch, this would seem like a better alternative to my current daily antidepressant.

  9. A patchwork weighted blanket: Lisa said patches can be any sort, so patchwork quilts are included. I’ve always wanted a weighted blanket, but never took the effort to find myself one.

  10. An executive functioning patch: something like an anti-procrastination patch, but it’ll also break down difficult tasks into smaller, easy-to-follow steps.

Note that every autistic person is different. This is why I referred to “this autistic person” in my post title rather than “every autistic person”. If you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person, after all. If you’d like to contribute what patches you could use in life, write a list of ten and hop over to Lisa’s blog to submit it.