Of course it goes on for days. Window shades roll up and down. Paint cracks along the moulding. Far from this room someone smokes a filterless cigarette. Some Rosie the Riveter or John Bunyan. And the pain pumps like a rubber bladder.
Blind people have headaches. Oh not all of them of course. We’re wildly different from one another. But hot rivets behind the eyeballs are common with many of us. It spreads across one’s face and skull like fire in dry grass.
If you’re one of the lucky blind who has a job you’re a figure of misapprehension by colleagues, often thought to be moody, perhaps unfriendly. Those blind people. He looks bitter all the time. Well, you try walking around, unable to see what’s in front of you while a prairie fire rages in your noggin.
I’ve laughed for years at the “let’s pretend we’re disabled for a day” exercises you see on college campuses. There’s always some poor soul wearing a blindfold and poking around with a cane. I want to whack them with a ball peen hammer and taser them just so they can get a better appreciation. The “not seeing” is just cake icing.
So I’m a blind spoonie counting out functional minutes and almost daily. Rarely do I have a happy 9-5 pain free teaspoon day.
Of headaches it can be said they’re more like a mist than a rainfall. Rain is for amateurs.
Planet of the Blind 