Matt climbed off the bed and stood expectantly next to it waiting for his cane lesson with David Bryant, his mobility instructor from the Lighthouse Guild. He drew in a shuddering breath trying to calm his racing heart from the thunder assault he had just survived. Would it be like this every time there is a storm?

"Okay, Matt. I have your mobility cane here." Matt could feel a disturbance in the air in front of him and reached out, finding David's outstretched hand holding a bundle of sticks.

"Oh, I thought it would be longer," Matt uttered in surprise.

"This is a collapsible cane, meaning you can fold it up when you're not using it. It is made of five aluminum tubes that have an elastic rope threaded through the center. At the top, there is a grip with a strap and at the bottom a metal tip. The tubes fit together when you pull them apart and allow them to lengthen - kind of like tent poles if you've ever gone camping."

"Oh, I've never been camping."

"Well, go ahead and undo the binding in the center that is holding the poles together and gently shake it out. Try to hold it parallel to your body. It should be about shoulder height. As you get used to using a cane you may find that other styles, heights, tips are better for you. You can try out different styles at the Guild. For now, this one should work."

Matt slid his hand over the length of the bundle of sticks while David was describing the cane, then found the tie that held the bundle together in the center and after a bit of fumbling, figured out how to undo it. The tie was an extension of the strap of the handle. Matt stiffened as the aluminum clattered a bit as it unfolded and lengthened and then snapped into place. He heard David step back a couple steps.

"Oh, sorry. Did I hit you with it?"

"No, but next time hold it a bit closer and more parallel to your body as it expands. It's okay. You'll get used to how it folds out as you use it."

Matt swished it back and forth a bit, testing it out, and then regretting his enthusiasm as the tip of the cane made a sharp ringing tone as it came into contact with the leg of the bed and then the leg of the side table. The sound reverberated and he held the cane still in an attempt to stifle the noise.

"Okay, resist the urge to wave it around," David chuckled.

"Is it going to make that noise every time?" Matt worried.

"Only when you wack metal with the tip. You'll develop a softer touch as you get used to it. And that feedback is important information. Okay, I'm going to walk you through how to use it properly. Of course, everyone develops their own style, but you want to start knowing the recommended way of using a cane with the hope that you don't develop any bad habits."

"Okay. I'm all ears."

"Think of your cane as a tool. In a lot of ways, it is an extension of your own fingertips. It'll help you determine what is around you so that you can move through space easily and avoid tripping over things (most of the time). It is also a visual symbol so that sighted folks know that you're visually impaired. As you get used to using it, you'll notice that you can hear the differences between surfaces, such as pavement or the sidewalk. In a lot of cities, corners of streets and the edges of subway platforms are designed with a distinctive texture, called tactile markers, that we can identify to know that we are at a street crossing or near the edge of the subway platform.

You want to hold the cane by the grip firmly, but not too tight. Extend your pointer finger down the length of the grip. You'll center the cane about an inch from your midsection and move it with your wrist in an arc."

Matt was a bit confused by these directions. He moved his right hand to the grip and extended his index finger so that it was pointing down the grip, his elbow high in the air, and then slowly slid the cane out in front of him so that the grip was about an inch from his belly button. "Like this?" He asked.

"I'm going to touch you so that I can feel if your hand is in the correct position, okay?" David stepped closer and his outstretched hand brushed against Matt's upper left arm, right on his bandage. Matt flinched involuntarily - the skin underneath was tender. Matt felt David feeling the bandage and then take his hand away quickly with a gasp as he understood.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you had other injuries."

"It's okay. I know. It's a burn. A chemical burn." Matt said, recalling what Dr. Patel had said. " . . . just there on my arm . . . and my face. And I guess some bruising, too. It's probably good you can't see me. I'm sure I look like a train wreck." Matt quipped, trying to ignore the stinging in his arm.

"Makes no difference to me!" David humored. "So, are you right-handed or left-handed?" David asked, getting back to the task.

"Right-handed."

"So, you'll want to hold the cane in your nondominant hand so that you have your dominant hand free to do other things. Does it hurt to move your left arm?"

"A little, I haven't been moving much lately, so it hasn't really been an issue."

Matt switched hands and then waited as David lightly traced his hands over Matt's to get an idea of his grip and stance. Matt realized that he was holding his breath. It felt awkward to be viewed this way, though David was quick and didn't linger.

"Okay, that's right. Now I'm going to stand to the side, and you swing the cane from the right to the left in an arc that it is about a foot wider than your body on either side. Since we're in a confined space, you're going to encounter objects faster than if you were out on the sidewalk. Just move your wrist, not your whole arm. Hold the cane so that tip hovers about an inch off the floor."

"Um, how do I know . . . " Matt questioned and David spoke over him, anticipating his uncertainty, "You'll just have to get a feel for it through practice. Today I'm just giving you the basics, and we'll have more sessions for fine-tuning techniques and trying them out in different situations."

Matt moved the cane in an arc slowing as it as he neared the wall to his right, not wanting to set off the explosion of sound of the metal tip hitting the wall. He could feel the air stopping at the wall. He knew it was there.

"Why did you stop?" David asked.

"I didn't want to hit the wall. It's so loud." Matt confessed.

"What? But that's the whole point. And how did you know it was there to stop?" David's voice rose in exasperation. "This is a tool so that you can navigate your surroundings." Matt could hear David's heartbeat quicken in what he realized was frustration. His own heart accelerated in response. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. The trembling he felt earlier was back and it had brought nausea with it. He tasted bile (with a strong apple juice flavor) at the back of his throat.

"Here, I'll show you." Oblivious, David moved behind Matt and put his hand over Matt's where it was holding the cane, and then guided him in the movement of the arc until the metal tip dinged against the wall. Matt started at the sound and the reverberations that traveled up the rod to his arm in shocking waves. As David stepped away, Matt swayed as he felt his knees giving away. He put his right hand out to steady himself against the bedside table, but the room seemed to be closing in on him, the table wasn't where he thought it was. He felt as if the walls were pressing against him and he was falling through a narrow, seemingly endless tunnel. The darkness seemed heavier and more oppressive than he had ever experienced before . . . more complete and final as he lost sense of himself. The ever-present cacophony of the hospital faded as if someone had turned down the volume until it was completely silent and in the moment he lost complete consciousness, Matt realized he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat anymore.