How the Sizzle in Cooking Slipped Away With my Vision Loss

All seemed normal as I slid the pan of brownies in the oven. That is until…the smell of hot plastic filled my nostrils.

I sped over to the oven. Opening the door again, I discovered my brownies weren’t resting on the rack. Nope. They were on top of a cake pan – one whose plastic lid was now glued to the cake pan beneath it. Ugh!

My roommate back in my single days had forgotten to inform me she used her oven for storage. Yikes!

Oh, don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t her fault. It was definitely mine and I wish this was due to inattentiveness, but it wasn’t.

Thirteen years prior I was diagnosed with a progressive, incurable eye disease called Retinitis Pigmentosa, but it hadn’t affected my cooking for me to notice before. 

This first incident occurred a few months before marrying. It seemed mishaps began snowballing, even though my attentiveness increased.

They emerged as my peripheral vision narrowed. It was easy to lose spices or utensils among clutter or if moving too quickly. Judging space wasn’t easy either, causing hot pans to land on top of other items on the counter or table.

To say I felt klutzy was an understatement.

I just thanked God he created me with the ability to solve problems, have determination, and to persevere many obstacles.

Mishaps were minimized several ways:

• organizing all ingredients on the countertop in order of their use before cooking
• assigning my new step teenagers, the chore of setting and clearing the table
• Filling plates from the stove replaced family style dining.
• Putting items away immediately after use was also imperative. 

Within a couple of years, other troubles made me want to pull my hair out.

Finding Food with Less Vision

When items Began playing ‘Upset the Fruit Basket’, I knew change was needed. But which ones and how?

Searching for items took up too much time, especially while keeping up with two teenagers and a baby.

The pantry didn’t matter too much because I tended to buy more of certain items when on sale. That required rearrangement, rather than keeping to my desired strategy.

Most of the time, I was able to memorize the changes of new arrangements. When I couldn’t, I asked for help gathering ingredients before I began cooking. Once all vision was lost, this was a regular thing.

I had to know what I was cooking for the day, what items were needed, and have cans or necessary items either sitting out or pointed out before someone left the house. When my husband had to travel for some jobs, I prepared ahead with purchasing things I could cook and could memorize where they were.

The refrigerator, on the other hand, bugged me much more. Opening and grabbing stuff by rote memory is much easier than playing ‘Scavenger Hunt’. Daily items were assigned spots, and everyone did their best to comply. 

Special Methods and Equipment

Cutting things worried my family the most – more than me at first. I had a good sense of what I was capable of and what I wasn’t. I tended to air on the side of caution.

Purchasing a knife with an adjustable guard allowed me to cut perfect tomato or cheese slices – making my family jealous. I also bought a cutting board from a catalog for the blind and visually impaired that shone bright white on one side and black on the other – a needed contrast.

Over time, I created many other means of providing contrast to differentiate anything I laid down, until relying completely on feel and memory.

Rather than moving a heavy pan of water to an unknown destination, I learned to pour items in a stationary pan planted on a burner.

Since depth perception was also a problem, turning meat was challenging without burning myself. I just cooked fewer pieces at a time. Wala!

Knowing when meat is done arouses much curiosity, and definitely was the hardest to defeat. 

In the beginning I’d tilt my head a certain direction to get a clear view of color of meat or the juices coming out of them. Then, I learned to time meat for completeness by cooking with a sighted member of my family to confirm doneness, instead of by feel.

Would you believe it took me two long years of frying hamburger to detect when it was done by feel rather than by the time method? Sure did!

Recipes

For a long time, I was able to read recipes, as long as they were written in ink. As my eyes seemed to grow dimmer and need more contrast, I wrote a few in felt-tip marker.

Soon I used a special magnifying machine where I could read white letters on a black screen, called a CCTV. While easier, it was time-consuming, so the more I could memorize and repeat menus, the better.

Recording on cassettes, then digital voice recorders was easier. When all sight dissipated, screen reader software allowed me to type and save new ones in computer files.

Choosing recipes with few ingredients and little measuring are still the easiest to memorize, even though I enjoy reading cookbooks on my talking book player to find new recipes.

Nonetheless, there were certain foods I avoided preparing. I didn’t want to cook pancakes after not being able to see their bubbles. Even though I could fry hot dogs or bake potatoes, I was horrible at spreading catsup and butter. Same held true with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or any sandwich for that matter.

Truthfully, I got tired of the clumps of condiments landing only on one side of the bread, all over my finger, or on the countertop so only ate when someone else was willing to make it for me.

Out of Practice

Finally adjusted, in addition to pastoring, my husband and I started a feeding ministry on weeknights, meaning I was out of practice cooking main meals for ten years.

When returning, we had moved. Adjusting to different appliances and space, slowed me down. Cooking took so much time and concentration for me that I reduced full meals to fewer nights and integrated crock pot meals when mornings weren’t too busy.

If dinner preparation hadn’t started by 5:00, it was time to eat out. That is, until my sweet husband’s work allowed him to assist.

He’s so supportive – he’s created many methods to let me cook independently over the years. Best of all, he can read my moods to know when to join me, jump in, and when to take over. A true help-mate indeed!

Never give up! There’s more than one way to skin a cat!

If you need help getting through your struggle, schedule a free 15-minute call with me.

© 2023, Jena Fellers. All rights reserved.