Food for Thought: Blind Dietitian

Food for Thought: Blind Dietitian

The Braille Monitor_______December

1997

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Lynn Mattioli

Food for Thought:

Experience of a Blind Dietitian

by Lynn Mattioli

From the Editor: Lynn

Mattioli was a 1987 NFB scholarship winner. During the years since that first

introduction to the organization, she has moved around the country gathering

the necessary academic, professional, and blindness tools to do her life work.

At the 1997 convention she told delegates about her adventures in the past ten

years. This is what she said:

Imagine a young woman, wearing a hair

net, dashing around to deliver meal trays to sick patients confined to bed,

prodding them to eat their chicken soup and lime-flavored Jell-O. When people

ask me, "What do you do all day?" frequently this is what they have

envisioned. However, it is not 100 percent accurate. I wear a lab coat, not

a hair net, but I do encourage my patients with poor appetites to eat well.

I work as a clinical dietitian at a 250-bed

hospital in South Baltimore. I cover several areas of the hospital, including

cardiology, orthopedics, and neurology. So I spend my day working with patients

who have heart problems, those who have had surgery to repair broken bones or

replace a joint such as the knee or hip, and those who have had strokes. I also

cover a sub-acute or extended-care facility (ECF) affiliated with the hospital.

Patients go to the ECF when they have recovered enough to leave the acute-care

side of the hospital but need more time before they're ready to go home.

Altogether I am responsible for sixty

to seventy-five patients on any given day. Basically what I do is gather information

about my patients to identify those people who are at nutrition risk. Then I

assess the situation and implement strategies to increase food intake or recommend

an alternative route of feeding when necessary. The most technical part of my

job is calculating the appropriate composition of solutions used to feed patients

intravenously. The solutions are approved by the physician and then prepared

by the pharmacy. I am also responsible for teaching my patients about their

diet. Nutrition education is tailored to meet each individual's needs. Heart-healthy

eating and eating for optimum management of diabetes are the two topics I cover

the most.

People often ask me, "What do you

need to do to become a registered dietitian?" First let me clarify: there

is a big difference between being a nutritionist and being a registered dietitian.

Anyone of you here today could claim to be a nutritionist. Those people wearing

white lab coats at the health food store in your local mall may have been working

selling shoes last week.

In order to be a registered dietitian,

you must first have a bachelor of science degree in nutrition. In college you

will study anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, food science, and nutrition science.

Accounting, economics, business management, and social science courses are also

required. Then you must obtain hands-on experience through a year-long internship

program. Finally you must pass a national registration examination and fulfill

continuing lifelong education requirements to maintain your credentials. Depending

on what you want to do as a dietitian, advanced education might be good. I decided

to obtain a master of science degree in nutrition because I plan to teach at

the university level one day. So you can see that it is more challenging than

just putting on a white lab coat.

While I was in college, no one ever suggested

that I couldn't be a dietitian because of my blindness. The faculty was very

supportive. I used alternative techniques such as readers and lab assistants

when needed. I had numerous externship experiences while I was in college, so

I was able to explore the profession a bit before I graduated. When it came

time to apply for my internship program, I decided to set my sights high. I

applied for several of the most prestigious programs in the country. There is

a limited number of internship programs, so entrance is very competitive. I

also decided to apply for some programs that seemed a little more attainable,

just in case.

On the application form I did not mention

my blindness because I didn't really think it mattered. I didn't want to be

excluded from a program because of misconceptions about blindness. Internship

directors are looking for reasons to exclude candidates. I didn't want my blindness

to be the issue. I was ecstatic to learn that I had been accepted at the Massachusetts

General Hospital, a 1,000-bed Harvard-affiliated teaching hospital in Boston.

I did tell them about my blindness after I accepted their offer.

I arrived in Boston a few weeks before

the program began, to give me time to move in. I made an appointment with the

internship director to discuss the program with her in more detail and to have

a tour of the huge facility. I wanted to help her to feel comfortable with my

blindness. I remember the details of that afternoon as if it were yesterday.

I had my tour; then I was introduced to Helen, the head of the department. Helen

invited me into her office to have a little chat. After I sat down, she said

to me, "Lynn, I want to be honest with you: I don't think a blind person

can be a dietitian. I think it would be easier for a deaf person or a person

using a wheelchair to be a dietitian than it's going to be for you." We

spent an hour discussing how I was going to accomplish specific tasks related

to my job. "How are you going to use the meat slicer?" "How are

you going to take apart the food chopper so you can clean it?" "Can

you turn the knob?" "How will you know if the employees are stealing

food or dealing drugs?" "How will you know if a patient is awake when

you go into the room?" I answered her endless string of questions to the

best of my ability. After the questions were finished, I explained to her that

we were going to need to figure out some things when we got to them. I didn't

know exactly step-by-step how I was going to clean the food-chopping machine,

but I knew how to clean my own food processor. So to me it was the same equipment,

only ten times bigger.

As I was leaving the meeting, Helen left

me with some friendly advice. "You'd better go home and pray." I remained

composed until I returned to my apartment, and then I did what most young adults

would do: I called my mother in tears. She was as shocked as I was. We were

Federationists by this time in my life, so we knew that discrimination could

happen, but now it was happening to me. I'm certain that they would have terminated

me from the program if they could have, but I think they were smart enough to

know that I wouldn't have left quietly.

I had two choices: I could agree that

a blind person couldn't be a dietitian and return home to Pennsylvania; or I

could stand my ground, which is what I did. But I needed people to help to keep

me standing. I immediately contacted Job Opportunities for the Blind and got

in contact with a blind dietitian in Iowa. We talked on the phone. I don't think

she told me anything I didn't already know, but she gave me the gift of reassurance

that a blind person could do and accomplish what I was setting out to accomplish

myself.

I wasn't alone. Throughout that year

I had the support of the Massachusetts affiliate and the Cambridge chapter.

At the end of the year, though, my confidence was lacking. My supervisors had

encouraged me to do my job in the same fashion as my sighted counterparts. It

was as if they wanted me to be that sighted person they thought they had accepted

into the program. I was uncomfortable trying many alternative techniques for

fear my performance might be judged harshly. I knew at the end of that year

that I was a good dietitian. I had the knowledge, and I had experience, but

I couldn't hope to be an excellent dietitian unless I attained more confidence

in myself as a blind person and better blindness skills.

After attending one of the top internship

programs in the country, which turned out to be a living nightmare, it was time

to attend one of the top adult rehabilitation programs in the country, the Louisiana

Center for the Blind. (We all know where the other top programs are located.)

This was a dream come true. I was a different person when I left Ruston. An

amazing thing happened when I went for my job interview at Harbor Hospital.

This was the first real job interview I had as a professional. My blindness

didn't seem to matter to my future boss one bit. We talked about it. I remember

her saying, "Obviously you know you can do this job, or you wouldn't be

here." It will be wonderful when every job interview is like that.

I know that I would not have been able

to become an employed registered dietitian if it hadn't been for two things.

For these blessings I am grateful--for my parents who were Federationists long

before we discovered the organization and for the National Federation of the

Blind. As an organization the Federation paved my way by changing society's

views of blindness, insuring security, equality, and opportunity. As individuals

many of you have personally changed my life. You have been my friends and mentors.

I am thankful. If it hadn't been for you, I might have told Helen that she was

right. Instead we did not give her that satisfaction.