Piedad Rodríguez, a primary school teacher, lost her sight at 52 years of age. After a year of mourning to accept her new situation, in the last five years, she has had to reinvent herself and start learning things like braille to be able to read, carry out daily tasks such as cooking or shopping, while finding herself up against the waiting list for care services, the current lack of a carer, and the absence of daily support. She is awaiting the allocation of a guide dog, which would provide a significant boost to her personal autonomy.
Rodríguez was working as a teacher of hearing, language, and French when she began to experience blurred vision. One day, she suffered a rise in ocular pressure, which affected the optic nerve and broke the connections between the eye and brain, causing a hole in the macula, glaucoma, macular degeneration, and other pathologies. “The diagnosis was devastating: In a month, I would lose my vision completely. That was a shock and meant I stopped driving and having a normal life. I unsuccessfully visited several doctors and clinics throughout Spain. The Education Department granted me incapacity and told me that the ONCE could help me,” she recalls. Throughout that first year, Piedad navigated grief “deep in misery, believing there was no way out”, until she thought: “But I’m not too old for the world to corner me at home until I’m meant to die.”
This led her to approach the ONCE, where she received, “firstly, psychological help, and later, all those little things that make you stronger”. “Maru deserves the heavens, she has been working as a psychologist for over 30 years and was a tremendous support, along with the mindfulness group I joined with other women in similar situations, to learn how to manage and build a new identity and improve my self-esteem,” she recalled.
Another significant change was leaving her residence in Los Baldíos, “an isolated area, with no pavements and only one bus line”, and renting a place in central Santa Cruz, to be closer to the ONCE services.
Throughout this transition, Piedad noted that “when I went blind, many friends and people from my surroundings vanished. Then, you must recreate a different world. I started with a Reading Club, creative writing workshops, made new friends, and realised we are just like anyone else, we lack the sense of sight, but we cultivate our other senses well, each with their personality and characteristics.”
As a teacher of Language and Literature, Piedad Rodríguez loves reading, so “I wanted to achieve my dream, which was to read on paper again, although new technologies already have audiobooks and ONCE offers that service, I wanted to read at my own pace, turn the pages, feel the paper…. I love Canarian literature, and when I accessed the available books, it’s not the same to hear Dónde nacen los dragos (Emma Lira) with that mainland accent, because Canarian words read with an intonation that isn’t ours lose their essence.” Additionally, before losing her sight, she had purchased the book El silencio de los Abades, by Jesús Alberto Reyes, and had yet to read it. “So I spoke to Valeriano, and we started a group of nine to learn the braille writing system, of which three of us finished, two were deaf-blind, over 60 and 70 years old; we spent almost two years meeting once a week when it fit and didn’t fall on public holidays, but I’m sure that with determination, I could have finished learning in two months. However, I loved being there, sharing, and learning at the group’s pace because it is also a beautiful experience. Now the deaf-blind companions are learning dactylography, spelling out the traditional alphabet in uppercase letters on their hands, and also learning sign language on their palms.”
Reading the three volumes in braille of El silencio de los Abades “was a great satisfaction, and I have no words to describe that freedom. Now I’m reading La Tuerta, by María del Mar Rodríguez.” She has also begun writing her ideas, notes, and poems in braille, keeping invoices and labelled papers in folders, reading boxes or cans of food or medications, etc.
Currently, Piedad is without support and manages to prepare her meals as best she can. “Today I made some potatoes and a grilled chicken breast; from the smell, I can tell if it’s burning or not, and that’s how I survive. It’s all about time, willpower, and the necessity that moves mountains,” she acknowledges. She cooks simple dishes or uses canned foods like tuna while “in the microwave and air fryer, I’ve put little dots (in braille) to guide me because frying is practically impossible for me,” she lamented.
When she can, Rodríguez attends the ONCE, where she also helps “with everything regarding affiliation and social matters.” “I still feel young enough to be able to help and create bridges for the older ones to achieve things, as it’s very hard to reach that age being dependent, alone, and without one of your senses.”
Piedad Rodríguez left behind her job, life, and independent mobility to now depend on someone to carry out the majority of daily activities.
The resolution from the Dependency Services took two years, and it was another year and a half before she had the Individual Attention Programme (PIA). At that time, she registered her husband as a carer; however, he is now in the process of divorce and has informed the authorities of this new situation. She has been waiting a year and a half for a review visit to allocate a personal assistant. “Right now, I’m alone, surviving as best I can. Dependency Services have not provided me with any service to this day, and we’re talking about my having been blind for six years. On the other hand, I don’t excuse my husband, but I know that being a carer is a total change; one goes through this situation, and the family does too, and not everyone is willing to sacrifice themselves.”
Meanwhile, she is waiting for support “to help me. When we need it the most is to go out, as you expose yourself to a high level of exhaustion and fatigue because alone, you have to be on complete alert.” The role of a personal assistant is approved throughout Spain, but in the Canary Islands, this role is scarcely offered. “Thanks to Acufade, I had that service, but it was through a European subsidy that has since ended. During that time, I was able to do many things; it was like regaining my previous life, and their support was very important.”
This week, she has hardly left her flat, except for one day when a volunteer came. “I don’t go outside for fear of falling or something happening to me; there are several construction works, and I find it daunting.” She usually goes to her supermarket, “where they have informed me of the times when they can help me, or to the market.”
Piedad Rodríguez insists that “we need to make ourselves visible because we tend to stay at home when we are the same people, even if we don’t see, and it’s a bit more complicated to do things.”
