How to Communicate with People Who are Blind or Vision Impaired

DO identify yourself by name, and your job/staff position.  Do this when entering a room, or when an individual with vision impairment approaches you.  Remember this individual cannot read your name tag, and it is important to share these details verbally.  This includes all staff who will be involved in a medical procedure, even if they will not be required to speak with the patient or parent during the process.

Say your name again when initiating a conversation – don’t assume the person will remember all names or recognize your voice.  You don’t need to formally introduce yourself each time – “This is Jane…” will suffice.

In a group setting, it can be helpful to ask that everyone state their name in turn around the room.  This will help the person know who is present and where they are sitting, but please don’t explain this fact without first privately seeking permission from the blind or vision impaired individual. Doing so highlights disability, which can cause unnecessary discomfort and embarrassment. Such explanation is valuable for medical and nursing students in the classroom.

Where appropriate in work or social meetings, adding a fun fact to each introduction creates an ice-breaker when people don’t know one another or haven’t met for some time. This avoids drawing attention to the person’s disability, and helps ease tension or discomfort for all participants.

DON’T touch the person without consent, and never grab, push or pull the person in any way.  This common sense and respectful behaviour should apply to everyone. But it’s particularly important for blind and vision impaired people who do not see the contact coming and cannot defend against it.

Always offer assistance directly to the individual if you think they need help.  In a crowded or noisy environment, a brief, light touch on the shoulder, or just above the wrist, can help indicate to the person that you are addressing them. Anything more will likely be a deep invasion of personal space. See below for specific do’s and don’ts on offering assistance.

“I am a bilateral Rb survivor with bilateral enucleation.  I am a fiercely independent woman, having grown up blind from the age of 2, with parents who taught me to stand up for myself.  Early on in my own child’s Rb care, I took my baby in alone for a routine EUA. A nurse introduced herself and led me in to an exam room for some pre EUA procedures. The exchange seemed to be going fine until she suddenly took my baby out of my arms with no warning at all before grabbing my hand and placing it on the chair.  My heart was racing in response to the sudden lightness of my arms and my previously calm baby’s instant wailing.

The nurse thought she was assisting me to sit, concerned that I might drop my baby while finding the chair.  But she never asked what I needed, or warned of her intention.  It was a huge violation for both of us, at the start of a day full of invasive procedures. I wasn’t able to pull either of us back the entire day – it was our worst EUA day ever, because of that one interaction.

When I complained, I received an apology and was told the nurse was new in the clinic and wasn’t yet fully aware of etiquette working with blind patients and families. Well I’m sorry, but you don’t learn this stuff “on the job”. People with degrees of sightloss make up a significant proportion of society and will interact with all points of medical care – so doctors and nurses should have these skills when they qualify.  My child’s EUA day is not a teachable moment for basic courtesy.  Maybe you think “it’s just one patient and they’ll learn”, but my child is that patient, I am that child’s mother, and the trauma of that EUA day has stayed with both of us.”