I know, I know.
It's been a month since I've updated this blog, and what a month it has been. As seen on my last post, October started off with the untimely death of my old friend and shipmate Adam. I was fortunate enough to go to Bermuda for his funeral, and even though it upset my Mum greatly that I was missing Thanksgiving (IE: "You're abandoning me like your father did"), it was one of the best choices I've made for myself in a long time. I don't know how I would have coped if I hadn't gone. Seeing my "floatie" (IE: Class Afloat) friends was incredibly healing, and since we were going through the same thing and felt so many of the same emotions it made me feel far less alone. Adam's family and friends in Bermuda welcomed us with open arms and were so kind and concerned about us despite their own grief. It will take time, but I do believe that love heals you....and I'm glad I had that weekend to experience it.
However, that is only a piece of how the month has been. There was my eye surgery, and even though it was not too painful, it was still unpleasant. What made things worse was what happened the day after my surgery. I noticed that my bunny Nona had been acting pretty listless and had little interest in food (definite red flag- Nonaroo loved eating). This was going on for about a week, but the night after my surgery it quickly turned to the worst. She was lying down with a glazed look in her eyes, so I picked her up, which immediately alarmed me as Nona hates being picked up. I noticed she felt lighter, and I stroked her fur and noticed she was incredibly thin. During this Nona didn't struggle at all (alarm bells!), and I as held her in my arms and she went limp.
I took her to the emergency vet, who informed me that her kidneys were shutting down. The best case scenario would be an infection which we would have a 50/50 chance of treating with antibiotics. The worse case (and much more likely) scenario was kidney cancer where she would have pretty much no chance at all. I asked them to do an xray to get more information. It showed that her kidneys were severely swollen, and it was highly unlikely to be an infection. I cried, as I knew what it meant. She was in so much pain, and I had to let her go.
I won't go much deeper into my loss of Nona as I don't really want to burst into tears. I don't have a done of time to write this, so I'll get to the most recent issue that inspired the creation of this post.
On Halloween I went out for a walk. It was 9:45 pm and I needed to stretch my legs, so I bundled up, put on my headphones and ventured out.
I listened to my music and walked around for about 20 minutes, then decided to head home. I was walking along Friel when I felt like I was being followed. I turned off my music and turned off on Wilbrod to see if I was actually being followed.
Turns out, I was.
My vague feelings of being creeped out were soon replaced by feelings of "Oh shit, oh shit oh shit!". A man and woman wearing black came up from behind me and grabbed both of my arms. The started to force my cross body bag off of me, and in doing so pushed me down onto the street. They ripped my headphones from my head and pried my ipod out of my hand. Luckily, what they wanted from me was only material things, and once they got my things they ran away laughing.
I stood stunned for a minute, wondering if anyone had seen what had happened. As soon as the initial shock wore off I began to run to the nearby quickie which had a payphone so that I could call 911.
Thy cam quickly and I made my statement. I was breathing fast and shaking, and the officer kept on asking if I needed an ambulance or was cold (Uh, no- I have an autonomic nervous system). I heard another officer complain about the fact that there was such a big time gap between the time that the incident happened and when the police were called.
Arghh.
What was I supposed to do, make a call on my stolen cell phone? Knock on a random door? I wasn't feeling all that trusting of strangers at the time so that wasn't an option.
Then I get the "now I'm not saying it was your fault, but....." speech. You knew that was coming eh? How dare I- a young female with a visual impairment- go for a leisurely walk at 9:45pm! I guess I was pretty much asking for it.
Anyways, it happened. It sucked. However, what happened the next day is what really traumatized me.
At around 6:30 Monday night I went out with a friend to walk her dog. When I was out my roommate received a call from a guy who said he had found my purse in central park and wanted to return it to me. He said that he read my address on a piece of mail in my bag, and asked if it was correct. Taken aback, my roommate said it was. He then said that he was at work but would be over in about an hour to drop it off.
Anyways, I get home and hear the news, and am a little creeped out as the guy left no name or number. However, my roommate called the police non emergency line shortly after and they weren't concerned- they only asked that we call back to report what is missing.
After a few hours, we begin to get nervous, as this guy could potentially have both my keys and address. So we call the police again.
I should mention that when I filed my initial report I was urged to identify the race of my attackers. I got such a poor view of them, as I'm visually impaired and was staring at the ground for the majority of the incident. However, my best guess that popped into my head was East Indian.
The guy who called also happened to be east Indian.
What happened next is a long, complicated story. Basically, the police have both my roommate and I talk to this guy to organize a set up. It involved me and three police officers in an unmarked car meeting this guy in a convenience store parking lot at the other side of the city. When we arrive we see him standing there with my purse in hand. The police quickly get out of the car and jump him, slamming his body against the hood of the car (where I was in the backseat). I will never forget the look of shock and horror on his face.
They harass him, asking him things like "where's your little girlfriend?". They take him away and out of my view, so I can only guess how they treated him afterwards.
I went back to the station to write down my statement. I could hear them complaining that the guy requested a translator.
Then I heard one officer say "If this is him, we're going to look like rock stars!".
It made my blood boil, but I was too exhausted to do anything.
Anyways, the next day I find out (surprise surprise) that this guy was likely not the suspect. He was a student from India who had only been in Canada for two months. He was advised by his lawyer to not speak to the detective, but he did anyways. He wanted the detective to know that he only intended to do something good.
If I could, I would thank him and apologize over and over.
What did I learn from this? That victims get blamed, police want glory not justice, racial profiling is wrong.....yeah.
I did learn to take more precautions. I will likely avoid the darker, less busy streets at night. I won't carry valuables. I might take a self defense course...
but I will NOT let this make me live in fear. I will not let it make me hide at home when the sun goes down.
If I do that, they win.
Peace, Love and Veggies,
Alex
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