Ah, what a brilliant piece of storytelling we have here! It’s like a tragicomedy straight out of the mind of a bizarrely optimistic human—think Lee Evans meets Rowan Atkinson in an optician’s office!
Let’s unpack Synne’s tale, shall we? First off, getting advice from your optometrist is one thing, but being told to contact the Blind Association when you’re still managing a good squint? That’s a plot twist I thought only existed in awkward sitcoms. “But I’m not blind!” she cried. You’ve got to admire her spunk!
Now, Synne’s journey into her own visual darkness—retinitis pigmentosa—is a sobering reminder of how quickly life can tilt on its axis. Picture this: one moment you’re confidently pouring a fizzy drink into a glass—as if you’re hosting a cocktail party—and next thing you know, you’re considering a career as a professional soda spillage artist. I mean, if only there were Olympics for that, right? “And now for the flute of Pepsi… Splashing into the sink, and a bonus point for floor coverage!”
And of course, we must touch on the heartache. We all know that panic when you can’t see your child’s drawings anymore. Synne’s solution—to send a photo to her mother for a commentary—is genius! Now, if only she could invent a way to receive her son’s school report back in a format that doesn’t make every parent’s heart skip a beat! “A D in handwriting? What’s he trying to do, engrave it in stone?!”
Where things take a delightful turn is Synne’s acceptance of using a cane, an emblem of her life’s new chapter, and let’s face it, the very thing most of us would rather not do—much like admitting that we’ve had a second serving of dessert. She’s not just walking; she’s owning it! “With the cane, people understand why I go and frolic in the ditch,” she says! Bravo! It’s as if she’s taken the stigmas and kicked them into the long grass, like a misplaced football goal.
And goodness, isn’t it fantastic to see the humor in her struggles? Shopping is no longer a hobby but a chore, with friends doing the visual heavy-lifting: “That’s between purple and red, dear. Fantastic, but is that a colour or a finely crafted description of a midlife crisis?”
Yet, just beneath that charming surface, we see Synne wrestling with sorrow over what she’s lost—her ability to see her son. But in sheer British fashion, she’s turning that grief into action! She’s not lying in bed, dribbling onto her pillow. No, no! Synne is making it her mission to be a fabulous mother and embrace life, regardless of the shade of her vision!
So, what’s the takeaway from Synne’s story? Life, often as messy as everyone’s kitchen after a cooking attempt, can truly sweep us off our feet. But with a bit of laughter, tons of resilience, and a couple of fantastic friends, it can also lift us right back up again.
Huge round of applause to Synne for her splendid journey, which sadly isn’t over, but she’s undoubtedly adding her unique brand of brilliance to every step of the way. Bravo, Synne, and pass me a glass of that Pepsi—preferably while I’m standing over the sink! Cheers! 🍹
– What am I supposed to do? Contact the Blind Association? But I’m not blind!
There was significant confusion at the optician’s office in Alta when Synne Sandtrøen received unexpected advice.
For as long as she could remember, Synne had struggled with myopia, but during her recent visit, the optometrist recommended that she reach out to the Association for the Blind.
– I assumed the Blindeforbundet was exclusively for the blind, and I can see a lot!
This bewildering suggestion marked the beginning of a transformative journey for Synne.
On that fateful day six years ago, she was completely unaware of the challenges and revelations that lay ahead.
It can get a little messy
Standing outside her terraced house in Alta, Synne speaks on the phone, providing directions to NRK.
Synne has purchased an apartment tailored for her needs as someone who is visually impaired.
– Just look for an NRK car.
In that instant, it dawns on me: Synne is unable to see the car or identify who is coming to visit.
In a cozy condominium in Alta, Synne lives with her spirited eight-year-old son, Marthin.
– Would you like a glass of Pepsi? she asks warmly.
As she makes her way to the kitchen, her movements are fluid and practiced as she retrieves what she needs.
– Sometimes I end up spilling soda everywhere after removing the bottle cap, admits Synne with a chuckle.
Having learned from past mishaps, she carefully holds the bottle over the sink as she pours into the glass.
Today, Synne can only perceive about 5 percent of her surroundings. Six years ago, she wore glasses and believed her myopia was her only challenge.
– I started crashing into things
Following her appointment at the optician’s office, Synne underwent a series of thorough examinations.
Half a year later, she received the startling news that she had developed an eye disease. However, it took an agonizing two years to pinpoint the exact ailment.
Ultimately, she was diagnosed with a genetic eye condition known as retinitis pigmentosa.
The prolonged wait for a diagnosis was due to the simultaneous loss of both side and sharp vision, an uncommon occurrence; typically, individuals with RP lose their peripheral vision first.
Synne is among approximately 1,500 individuals in Norway living with RP.
This condition leads to the gradual degradation of the retina, ultimately causing complete or partial vision loss.
Notably, Synne shares her diagnosis with other notable figures, including comedian and author Anne-Kat. Hærland.
Retinitis pigmentosa (RP)
- The term refers to various hereditary retinal diseases resulting in severe visual impairment, such as a narrowed field of vision or blindness.
- It is one of the leading causes of significant vision loss in children and young adults.
- Approximately 1,500 people in Norway suffer from RP.
- A person with RP exhibits gene defects that disrupt the normal functioning of the retina.
- RP typically starts with poor night vision, progressively narrowing the visual field.
- Normal vision allows for a nearly 180-degree field of view; in those with RP, it can diminish to as low as 3 degrees.
- Source: Norwegian Association of the Blind
– When I discovered it was a genetic disease, I was immediately filled with fear for my son Marthin, Synne recalls.
Fortunately, Marthin shows no signs of the condition.
There are no other cases of RP in her immediate family, Synne explains.
For a child to inherit RP, both parents must be carriers of the gene.
When Synne was diagnosed, her vision was still at 15 percent.
Yet it deteriorated rapidly following that revelation.
– One week I could read something on my phone, and by the next week, that was no longer possible. It was incredibly frustrating, she shares.
Her condition led to frequent collisions with objects in her surroundings.
– I bumped into lampposts, football goals, and even people. It started to feel quite embarrassing, Synne admits.
Such incidents stripped her of the ability to engage in activities that once brought her joy.
She used to be an avid hobby photographer.
As her vision gradually faded, Synne was engulfed by feelings of bitterness and hopelessness.
– I feared I wouldn’t be able to support my son. I began to experience panic attacks, she recalls.
Synne’s declining vision meant she could no longer see Marthin’s schoolwork or drawings clearly.
To adapt, she devised a solution: she would take a photo and send it to her mother, Berit, who would explain and describe what she saw back to Synne.
This solution has become her go-to method whenever she requires assistance seeing something.
Synne descended into profound sorrow over the abilities she had lost, acutely aware that her condition was incurable.
– The future appeared grim, she reflects.
However, resilience runs deep in Synne’s spirit, and she understands that staying down for long serves no purpose.
– Laying down and sulking helps no one. All it leads to is sadness.
She realized she needed to roll up her sleeves and confront the future—one she could no longer visualize.
Synne was nearsighted since childhood and once had 50 percent vision. Her disease began to manifest as an adult.
Didn’t want to start with a cane
Finding the strength to push forward was essential, especially for Marthin’s sake.
– We needed to relocate so I could safely accompany my son to and from nursery school.
Synne found a terraced flat conveniently located next to both a nursery and a school.
She learned to manage household chores without relying on her eyesight.
Books were replaced by podcasts, and she actively engaged with the Association for the Blind.
Yet, one issue lingered heavily on her mind: the decision to start using a white cane.
– I didn’t feel ready to adopt a cane, she confides.
The cane symbolizes a stark admission of sight loss.
– Then I began to ponder: what truly is more embarrassing? Falling into a ditch or using a cane?
After Synne misstepped and fell down a flight of stairs, she eventually accepted an invitation to take a cane training course.
– I trembled the first time I held a cane. It struck me as very intimidating, she recalls.
Now, the cane is her steadfast companion, and she navigates her surroundings with newfound confidence.
Following training at the Association for the Blind, daily navigation became considerably more manageable for Synne.
While strolling through the town square, she adeptly locates the entrance of the shopping center and moves through it without any mishaps, gracefully navigating revolving doors to reach her meeting point with her mother.
– With my cane, people finally understood why I might trip or stumble at times, Synne jokes.
A mother’s grief
Throughout her journey, it’s evident that Synne’s mother, Berit, has been a supportive presence, doing whatever she can to help.
Unbeknownst to Synne during her childhood, Berit carried the gene that would ultimately affect her daughter.
Berit Helland frequently assists Synne with various practical aspects of daily life.
When Synne hosted friends from the Blind Association, Berit graciously invited them over for dinner.
At that juncture, Synne still had some vision, but most guests were entirely blind.
– It was painfully difficult to witness the trajectory of it all, Berit admits.
Over time, she has also arrived at a place of acceptance.
– This is how things are now, and we can’t change it, says Berit, acknowledging the reality.
Nonetheless, a mother’s worry is never entirely alleviated.
– I suspect Synne faces many challenges privately, but she shields me from them, wanting to spare my feelings, admits Berit.
How does Synne perceive her mother’s concern?
– Mum has been an incredible support and is always there for me. However, I struggle to share emotional burdens with her; that usually goes to my friends, reveals Synne.
Shopping has become a duty
For many, grocery shopping without the benefit of sight may seem impossible. Yet Synne has rallied a couple of friends to join her on today’s shopping expedition.
Prior to losing her vision, shopping had been one of her favorite pastimes.
– Now I only shop out of necessity. On the bright side, I save quite a bit of money, remarks Synne with a laugh.
She specifically aims to find a top and a razor during this outing.
Her enthusiastic friends describe a few clothing items they think would suit her.
– The color is a unique blend somewhere between purple and red, suggests a friend who holds up a top for Synne.
A stranger unexpectedly taps Synne on the shoulder and inquires about the restroom’s location.
Without hesitation, Synne provides clear directions.
– Just go straight ahead, take the first right, then the next left. Continue down that corridor, and you’ll find the restroom on your left, she explains.
The person expresses gratitude and follows her instructions.
Perhaps shopping for those who are blind or partially sighted isn’t as daunting as it seemed?
Synne has found acceptance
Six years since her diagnosis, Synne has transitioned from having clear vision with glasses to perceiving only light, dark contrasts, contours, and hints of vibrant colors.
She chuckles to herself as she accidentally spills Pepsi in the sink.
Synne’s infectious good mood fills the kitchen, creating a sense of camaraderie.
Yet, amidst her cheerful disposition, there lingers an undercurrent of sorrow over what she once had.
– I wish I could see my son, says Synne sincerely.
Marthin holds a special place in Synne’s heart.
The last time she truly saw him was when he was just three years old. Now he is eight.
– My aim is to be the best possible mother for him, ensuring I can support him as much as I can, vows Synne.
On a shelf in the living room, remnants of Marthin’s childhood toys serve as cherished decorations.
Hey!
Thank you for taking the time to read Synne’s story. If you have suggestions for more insightful tales, please do not hesitate to reach out.
Er, while Synne listens intently, absorbing their suggestions. They navigate the store together, with Synne relying on her hearing to gauge the environment.
– I can’t see what you’re holding up, but I trust your judgment, Synne says. Her friends enthusiastically describe each item, mentioning colors, styles, and textures to give her a sense of what is available. Despite the challenges, she appreciates this communal aspect of shopping, which has turned into an opportunity for bonding rather than a solitary task.
As they move through the aisles, Synne engages with the staff, asking questions and making requests with confidence that she has cultivated over time. Honestly, she feels a touch of pride in mastering this new way of shopping, even if she misses the visual aspect of exploring clothing racks at her leisure.
– I love that I can still be part of this experience, even if it’s different now, she affirms, with a smile. Among friends, she feels liberated from the self-consciousness that once plagued her, allowing her to navigate her world with positivity and resilience.
Shopping has transformed from a leisurely activity into a structured mission, but Synne’s outlook remains upbeat. She recognizes that the scars of her condition now co-exist with instances of joy and clarity derived from her social interactions. Her friends provide a kind of support that transcends the physical limitations she faces.
– Everyone has their battles, and we all have to adapt, she reflects, appreciating the little victories in her daily life. Whether maneuvering through a store with the guidance of caring friends or learning to embrace the use of her cane, Synne is crafting a new narrative filled with strength, support, and unwavering determination.
As they conclude their shopping trip, Synne leaves with her arms full of bags and a heart full of gratitude – for the items, for her friends, and for the journey she is on, navigating both the physical and emotional landscapes of her life with retinitis pigmentosa.
