When Is Braille Not Braille?
Now that I’m old and grey and full of sleep I lie in bed fondling my pill dispenser, marvelling at the little works of chemical art that keep me still breathing for free, all thanks to the NHS.
And as I lay there last night I noticed that each day’s cell was marked with Braille lettering. I shut my eyes and tried to make it out by touch, but years of bad guitar playing have calloused my fingers to such an extent that I can barely distinguish the box, let alone the raised Braille dots.
Still, it was nice of the box manufacturer to think of blind people. I resolved I’d at least try to learn S M T W T F S so I would still be able to manage when glaucoma and cataracts kick in.
I have another pill box for my morning pill (I’m taking two doses of monster anti-histamine every day in an attempt to ward off hay fever and I’m amazed I can stay awake long enough to write this (and you to read it)).
I was idly fingering it when I noticed something odd. The Braille dots on the morning box bore no relation to the Braille dots on the evening box!
I’ve translated the Braille and written it on the front of each box. The white one reads S ? T W T ? S and scores 5 out of 7. The marks for Monday and Friday have been made up; they do not exist in the Braille alphabet.
The grey box was completely wrong. L M X J V S D. Zero out of 7. A poor show. Then clever Von spotted something. If you erroneously believe a week starts on a Monday, and you happen to be French, then L M X J V S D could be understood as Lundi Mardi M(X)ercredi Jeudi Vendredi Samedi. But the lettering is in English.
What’s going on? Can no one be trusted any longer?
Get your Braille checked before you go blind, that’s my advice.