decorated with dandelions and have a sunken pit where excavated trees
formerly found anchorage. Generations of medical students and residents
have populated these neighborhoods, and like those denizens before me, I
have no money to improve my abode and no energy to care. Living in our
neighborhood is the occasional older couple who has lived here for
decades; this blind twosome must have crisscrossed these streets for years.
A dilapidated pickup truck rumbles by, and the standoff continues. I am
across the street from the pair of careful travelers, and with no
approaching traffic, I wonder what they are waiting for. The man appears
to be about sixty years old, with slicked-back dark hair and the build and
clothing style of Archie Bunker; the woman is in a colorful dress and
sensible shoes, her white wavy hair adorned with a practical headband.
Abruptly, the man jerks her hand, and they rapidly scoot across the
roadway. Once on my side of the street, they continue along the same
sidewalk, but given my potential tardiness, I can’t afford to indulge my
curiosities about this couple. I wordlessly pass by, wishing I could initiate
a conversation, but am left hoping that I encounter them some other time.
A few months later, during my physical examination class (in which we
learn to incorporate all our senses and formulate a diagnosis), I mention
my encounter to my professor. In an instant, he knows the couple I’m
talking about. “They’re the Dowdys. They are not just blind, they are both
deaf.” BOTH DEAF? Now I think back to the moment I saw them on the
road, exercising extreme care before they zipped across the street. They
weren’t listening for an oncoming vehicle—they were feeling for it.
I learn more about the Dowdys from my professor. This married couple
has been together for years, Leonard having lost his vision and hearing as
a five-year-old from bacterial meningitis in 1932 (prior to the 1940s,
everyone in the world was completely at the mercy of a bacterial infection
of the brain), and Betty being born deaf, and later losing her eyesight to
retinitis pigmentosa as a young adult. They communicate with each other
by using sign language in each other’s hands (“fingerspelling”). How do
they converse with someone who doesn’t know sign language? My
professor isn’t completely sure of the mechanics, but tells me it has
something to do with touching the speaker’s face.
Now, I am even more eager to see the Dowdys and interact with them,
hopefully without threatening them.
marcin
(Marcin)
#1