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When you are out and you see a person with an Assistance Dog (for blindness, hearing impairment, disability, epilepsy etc) PLEASE do not distract the dog because the results of you doing so can be unfortunate for the person they assist. This rather good video from KNGF (The Dutch Guide Dog body) is amusing but is also a good illustration.

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Sissi - Hearing & Seeing Dog

A few weeks ago I was walking into town to do the day’s chores. It was still early in the day as I pushed the buggy with Mariaske and Joost on board, my guide dog Sissi was with me of course. Sissi protects my right side as I am now blind in my lower right quarter. We were about to swing onto Minckelersstraat from the alley behind De Bijenkorf when Sissi was distracted by two young men, tourists. As a result I walked slap into a metal bollard in the pavement, it was the exact height of my crotch. The blow was painful enough to knock the sense out of me for a few moments and I had to use the nearest wall for support. Sissi was very distressed at me coming to harm so I tried to reassure her while my eyes watered and I fought the pains radiating out from my pubis. After a few minutes I tried to continue but the pain was such that I feared I had perhaps damaged myself or one of the metal plates in my pelvis. It took me thirty minutes to make it to Tyjardia & Nonke;s house. Ty is also my doctor, it’s a walk that would normally take five minutes. Ty examined me carefully and concluded there was no damage to bones or plates, but the bruises were already very clearly visible on and around the upper part of my vulva. By that evening when Nina got home and took a look my vulva was black and blue. So please, never distract a guide dog at work, what they do is important and disturbing them at work can cause those of us who rely on our four legged friends injury.

Now I can see the funny side of what happened to me even though at the time it hurt. Below is another bit of amusement that had my children rolling around laughing………..

Author: Judith.

Reflections  On Love Part I

Across the lawn on the green wall, where she grows salad produce Judith is picking salad leaves with Mariakse, our three year old, the first born of my womb. Those leaves will go into the bowl to go with our meal this evening. She grows an amazing range of herbs and leaves there, many of which have a medicinal quality but all of which go to make some beautifully fragrant salad combinations. She is wearing one of her white linen summer dresses that mark the line of her slender frame so nicely. I am reflecting on the beauty I see. Mariaske is sitting on her shoulders to reach leaves at the top of the wall. I could hear Judith giving her instructions, always so very patient with the children, to me it is part of her beauty. The dipping evening sun was shinning through that white dress showing another aspect of her beauty. The funny thing is that I can see her naked form any time I wish but as I watched her there the covering of her long white dress seemed to be all the more erotic. I know that many couples on becoming parents feel a loss of their sexuality but watching that lovely form I wondered just how that could be because for me becoming a mother has enhanced the sensuality in my life. The more I watched the more I wanted to slip upstairs with her for a few minutes, and with those rather tantalising thoughts in my head I dozed off in the evening sun.

Reflections  on Love Part II

After school yesterday we had collected the children and taken to the park for some games. It had clearly been a long day in stuffy school classrooms because both Nicky and Hilke were very irritable with each other, nasty irritable. Hilke has an especially sharp tongue which she can use to slice and dice to good effect and was doing so liberally with Nicky. Judith and I watched from our park seat when just as the mutual abuse reached a pitch Hilke’s legs gave out and she pitched face first to the ground. It is a characteristic of her Spina Bifida that sometimes the signals down her spine misfire and take her legs out from under her. Judith was about to jump up and rush across but I stopped her and watched as Nicky dashed back to help his sister as Jos (Hilke’s guide dog) fussed about her. As we watched all trace of anger at her had vanished from his face as very gently he brushed some leaves and dirt off her face and checked her for injury as he had been taught. All the anger and frustration with his sister had left his body language to be replaced with………………………complete concern. The spinal misfire had also caused her to loose bladder control briefly. He could have have easily teased her about that in revenge for her savage tongue, but instead he reassured her and helped her cover her embarrassment. Later at home, all cleaned up, she came to her brother as he sat at the big table doing some drawing and wrapping her arms around him gave him a kiss. They exchanged no words or signing, but all nasty words of earlier were wiped away. It was a moment that makes all the hard work of being a parent worthwhile. As they grow up they will always have their disagreements but the understanding they have of each other’s worlds as shaped by their respective disabilities has given them a bond and a deeper love.

Reflections  On Love Part III

Yesterday, despite the sun having set it was still hot and the air still. We had set up beds out under the patio vines so that we could all sleep outside with the hope that a good sleep in the night air by candle light would help re balance everyone. All the children were restless and having trouble trying to sleep in the still humid air. Our youngest, Joost (six months old), was the most discontent. Just after midnight he tucked up beside me on the double hammock that Judith and I occupied and I put my breast to his mouth in the hope that he would finally fall asleep as he suckled. Initially he was just as restless at my breast as he had been before, but slowly he started to draw on me more deeply and soon I felt his little body relax against me. I will never cease to be amazed by this incredible thing we call motherhood. As he had suckled and my milk let down I felt my love for him surging through me as my milk flowed out. It was as though all my own frustrations and annoyances of the day were being sponged, perhaps sucked is a more apt expression, away. This wonderful sensation was of course the hormone Oxytocin. It is an amazing and incredible feat of nature, with Joost latching onto my nipple the hormone was released into my blood stream further sealing the mother /infant bond and causing another hormone, prolactin, to kick in and stimulate my breasts to make milk. I knew that this amazing dance of chemicals was going on inside me to produce these feelings, but it did not matter. I was away on a cloud of love, remembering the icy winter night of his birth, remembering the way his little body had filled mine both physically and spiritually before bursting forth orgasmically into the dim light of dawn.

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[View with PicLens]

Delft is a fine example of the most typical of Dutch architecture and city design. It is criss-crossed with canals that keep the town dry and mimmick the much larger network in Amsterdam, so in a sense it is a more compact and less crazy version of Amsterdam, just much more user friendly. It is a delightful shopping centre if you want to escape the big chain stores with many small independent retailers and craft/art shops.  Delft is also a great place if you like antiques (or junk) because of the enormous market the town has. For those with an interest in European history then Delft is full of it. Delft was the headquarters for William of Orange during the 80 Years War with Spain, and is the resting place of the kings and queens of The Netherlands.

If you want one final and over riding reason to visit Delft then there is Johan Vermeer. Johan Vermeer was  born in Delft in 1632 and died there in 1675 and in between he painted, but, he painted the most beautiful and glorious paintings and seeing the town that formed that talent is a must.

[View with PicLens]

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If you want to learn and see more about Delft then please see our delft page here.

Author: Nonke.

Our biggest worry with this trip was how Judith would cope so far from her home ground given her acute problems with anxiety. The reports from Nina are that it has been hard work, requiring much deep relaxation, a lot of reassurance but that taking Jette along (their god daughter) has helped a great deal. Jette is great with the children and has a knack with Judith’s anxiety, all this in a petite package that is about to turn sixteen. Our very grateful thanks to Jette, and to her dad the ever patient Nick, for letting her go.

Nina has often commented that moving their family is like moving an army regiment, and being an army nurse I guess she would  know ! In this case it is an army of two adults, a teenager, three children, a baby and two guide dogs. Judith spent the last week before their departure  in a frenzy of organizing, ensuring that the right things were all washed, clean and in the correct bag.  The guide dogs had their vet checks and their doggy passports stamped. There was also the long list of instructions to the gardener brought in to look after the farm in miniature that is their garden. I was given a list of herbs, fruits and vegetables that I was to go and pick each evening with a promise on my part to feeding them to our family and not to waste them. We also got their cat Pip Amadeus. Pip is a little sweety, a twenty year old Birmin with a heart murmur, failing kidneys, arthritis, and irony of ironies, deaf and a little blind.

All this activity was of course Judith’s way of covering her terror at the prospect of the trip. On the plus side, in payment for looking after Pip she made us a liter of her strawberry  (aardbei) ice cream and another of Melon (Meleon). Strawberries from their garden, cream from her parent’s farm made from raw milk so believe me when I say “Payment made in full !”.

I can see I am drifting from the point here, so back to the report____________

Nina, bless her, let Judith’s frenetic activity and irritability of the week wash over her as the clock counted down. The girl has an endless patience with Judith that appears to be such a consummate skill that it can only come from a deep connection at a spiritual level, she is rock solid.  Before they left I gave Nina a prescription for Judith for valium should the worst happen and her anxieties overcome her tough self discipline. To date it has not been needed, I suspect this is down to Nina’s knowledge of her love and soul mate.

The girls engaged the services of a professional nanny during the day times as they would have to be in meetings much of each day. Happily London has kept it’s tradition of quality nanny agencies and the lady they provided was used to children with special needs. According to Jette she has taken even the prickly and smart assed Hilke and her body guard Jos in her stride. Between Jette and the nanny the girls have not had to worry about the children during the days which has been a great help.

On Monday Judith must be examined by doctors of the other side to ensure that her neurologist, neurophysiologist , neurosurgeon, ophthalmologist and family doctor (me) have not lied in our reports about the damage done in the assault  and the subsequent intracranial bleeds. It will be a tough day for both of them, for differing reasons, but we have faith in them. Above all else that English girl must learn humility. She must learn that you cannot take something so precious as good eyesight from someone as you stagger through life utterly selfishly, my family will not tolerate it. We are going to ensure she is impoverished perhaps through the loss of what matters most to her (money) she will learn.

On that vengeful note  I will say goodnight. Nina and Judith, our thoughts are with you and the children, as always.

Love, Nonke and Tyjardia, xxx.

Dogma over common sense

I went into town during the week to deal with paperwork regarding our oldest two children and their respective disabilities. I will not tell you which particular arm of government department  I was dealing with because I have lodged a formal complaint, so until that is dealt with I think giving specifics would not be fair.

With Hilke and Nicholas off to school, Mariaske in playgroup in Looierstraat I put Joost into his pram, harnessed up Sissi and trekked into town. Upon finding the building I wanted I went up to the front desk in the lobby. The young man there was very helpful, recognising immediately from Sissi’s uniformed presence that I was deaf and partly sighted. Instead of just directing me to correct part of the building he made a phone call, got a large print floor plan out and marked on it where I would need to go and also very thoughtfully marked out the baby facilities and the lady’s wc and also where we could go for refreshments and gave me the map. By this time a colleague had arrived and she took over his position so that he could escort us to where we had to go. He always took care to speak to my face, he controlled his hands using them to make only meaningful gestures, he was at no time condescending or belittling, in short he was a perfect model of help and assistance to a person with impaired senses.

After a going through many corridors and up an couple of floors we arrived at the right department. My escort explained my needs to the girl at the recption desk before departing with my grateful and sincere thanks. The young lady directed me to take a seat in the waiting area, along with about a dozen people. She informed me where the baby facilities were and the wc and asked me if my guide dog need anything. She was not as careful as the young man had been in talking to my face but her heart was in the right place and she was considerate.

So far so good. After almost an hour the number on the large TV screen in the waiting area finally matched my little ticket and directed me to room four so rounding up Sissi and securing Joost off I went.

Now I should explain that despite being lesbian, despite having a few disabilities, even despite being a woman, that I am not into all this politically correct silliness. I am deaf so call me deaf, not “hearing impaired” for goodness sake ! As long as people are not out rightly insulting I really do not mind how I am described. There is nothing more likely to get me annoyed than having to watch someone tying themselves into knots trying to work out how they should be speaking to this deaf, partly sighted lesbian mother of children with disabilities of their own. Just have a little thought, like the young man above because that is wonderful, don’t play the game of PC linguistics invented by middle class sociology degree graduates with no real role in life.

So I sit us down in the interview room and just as I am settling down a woman comes in. I say a woman but in fact it could have been anything underneath all that idiotic black clothing. From head to floor it was covered in shapeless black islamic dress, all that was visible was a little slit with two eyes showing. My heart sank.

How do you like talking to the back of my head ? Well that is what talking to a veiled face is like for me

I can of course see the funny side, lips, face and entire body hidden behind a black mask interviewing a lip reader, pretty comical really, but when you are dealing with your children’s welfare I prefer to leave the comdey out. I asked her to remove her head covering, explaining that I was deaf and needed to see her face and read her lips. I do not know if she said anything, I imagine she did, but the negative shake of her head provided her answer. Holding onto my irritation I repeated myself, and again there was a nod of her head and this time she waved a little book at me. I looked at the book and sure enough it was a copy of the quran, she was waving it like it was some sort of get out of jail free card from Monopoly. Rather than get annoyed any further I just asked her to get her supervisor in here.

After a few minutes another woman comes in, clearly not a muslim this time. I told her that I was deaf and had to lip read and had therefore asked the lady to remove her head covering and that she had refused thus rendering her useless to me and unable to do her job effectively. The supervisor looked uncomfortable and told me that she could not ask her colleague to remove any of her attire because it was part of her religious belief. I asked her to show me the part in the quran that specified where it said that she had to be covered head to toe, thus cutting her off from the outside world and normal interaction with human beings. I pointed out that her colleague kept a copy of the quran under the folds of her clothing as she had been waving it in my face a few minutes earlier, now she looked very, very uncomfortable, and so she should. She told me that she had to respect the beliefs  of her colleague, clearly thinking that would in some way shield her from any further comment from me. She was wrong, very wrong, it was an approach that was not going to fly with me.

I got out the map the nice young man had given me earlier along with a broacher about service offered by this government department. While waiting for an hour to be seen I had looked through it, including the part that proudly stated that their charter required them to  ”strive to meet the needs of their clients regardless of age, ability, gender or race”.  Giving a deaf lip reader an interviewer who insisted on hiding like some coward behind layers of cloth was not going to help them meet the noble goals of their charter. Her solution was to ask me to go back to the waiting area for a different member of staff to be available. I refused, pointing out I had already been waiting over an hour and that I was not prepared to be penalised just because of the selfish actions of one of her staff. I wanted to have my interview and I could be having it if she were doing her job properly and demanding that her idiot colleague remove her head gear and DO HER BLOODY JOB. Instead I was now faced with two government employees who were refusing to do their jobs, one because she had chosen to imprison herself behind a mask and hide behind a religion that really has no place in European society and the other who was too much of a coward to stand up to an irrational religion.

The supervisor than said that she could call security to escort me from the building. I agreed that she certainly could do that, except for two points; 1. I had not done anything wrong, but she and her colleague had.

2. Throwing a deaf, partly sighted mother with baby and guide dog out by force for merely asking that she be able to lip read her interviewer was not going to look good on the local TV news that evening, and it would make my lawyer very happy as she liked nothing more than suing for a civil rights breach.

It was the tipping point, that moment when she could do something sensible or do something incredibly stupid. She chose sensible, in other words she interviewed me herself and sent her colleague away. Finally I could get down to business and go through the paperwork. I could read her face and lips as she took care to speak at a normal pace to my face and so in just twenty minutes we had completed all that was required. I thanked her for the assistance that she had given, and added that I would be making a formal complaint about the incident as soon as the rage I was currently experiencing subsided.

In the end my letter consisted of two parts, one praising the consideration of the two receptionists and one damning the stupidity of the muslim woman and levelling a charge of cowardice at her supervisor. I also left a card and a gift of handmade chocolates to the front desk because good actions need to be encouraged. I am now awaiting the response to my complaint, I will let you know how it goes.

Footnote: Oddly enough this little incident did not worsen my general level of anxiety. It had been a big mental effort to overcome my worries over being out and on unfamiliar ground but the dispute of the idiocy of the muslim woman did not worsen matters as I feared it might. In fact I think my anger may have been something of a counterweight to the anxiety, and so I wonder if perhaps I have found a tool I can use to regain some of my lost ground.

Author: Judith