Transcript of an oral history interview with Bridgette Suttle, 2018 October 09

Our Stories, Our Lives
Georgia Libraries for Accessible Statewide Services (GLASS) Oral History Project
GLASS-006
Bridgette Suttle interviewed by Stephanie Irvin
October 9, 2018
IRVIN: Hello. My name is Stephanie Irvin, and I'm going to have a conversation with
Bridgette Suttle for "Our Stories: Our Lives," an oral history project with the Georgia
Libraries for Accessible Statewide Services. It is October ninth [2018], and this is being
recorded at GLASS Atlanta, the recording studio in Atlanta, Georgia. Thank you,
Bridgette, for being with me today.
SUTTLE: Thank you for having me. Well, I am an adopted and only child of what I
thought to be the world's greatest parents. I was certainly reared and trained to be a
super-achiever. My grandfather was blind from birth, and my parents and I often joked
about how God created and made things because my blindness came later on in life,
and it was something that was already very familiar to everyone in our family, so it
wasn't it wasn't as big of a deal as maybe it should have been or as big of a deal as
others took it.
Again, I was reared and trained to be a super-achiever. I did grow up right here in
Atlanta, Georgia. And I often say that, although I was born in New Jersey, I came
straight here to Grady Hospital, so I am a transplant Grady Baby. I went to high school
here in Atlanta, Georgia; graduated from Riverwood High School. I later went on to
Savannah State University in the fall of 1990. By the mid-nineties, I had graduated
college; I had a baby and considered myself to be a young, up-and-coming corporate
professional. I did eventually settle with a wireless provider as a master corporate
trainer.
And my life continued on beautifully until some years later. Probably, when I was about
thirty-five, I started to notice some things--noticed things with my vision. I knew some,
probably seventeen years prior to that, I had been diagnosed with diabetes--type two
diabetes. And from that point of diagnosis, I did absolutely nothing to maintain or control
my diabetes diagnosis. And I didn't do anything because I felt fine. When I looked in the
mirror, I felt like I looked fine--just really had no idea what was going on the inside of my
body. Well, it certainly started to tell on me.
At about thirty-six, my vision started to severely blur, and this was due to an eye
condition called diabetic retinopathy which, of course, is a condition caused by
uncontrolled blood sugar levels. This eye condition, to date, has rendered me legally
blind. After that, at the age of thirty-seven, my right foot was amputated--I stepped on a
nail.
By the age of thirty-eight, I was absolutely broken. I was depressed and jobless. And I
felt like, you know, how could a person with such wonderful parents and what I consider
to be a beautiful life, you know, how in the world could I allow this to happen? I was
totally devastated--just not devastated, but also in a wheelchair. And I sat in a
wheelchair for three years just kind of allowing life and my weight and the fact that I had
walked into the hospital but could not walk out--I had allowed those things to overtake
me.
And, you know, the medical profession, they all told me, "Hey! You're healed!" You
know, "Everything is back to normal." You know, but inside of my head I thought, well,
how do you heal from going blind, like emotionally and mentally? And even, how do you
heal from an amputated foot emotionally and mentally and even physically? I couldn't
figure out how to get back in the game, and it was a game that, you know, I had been
taught to perfect. And so, just there I sat. And, at the time, I didn't know the change that
was happening, but there was a change that was coming. And I strongly believe it was
due to what I call my "pushy, praying, meddling mama." She refused to allow me to
accept defeat for myself.
So what she did is she got me involved with resources, first, through the Center for the
Visually Impaired--that's also known as CVI, which is--it was a training and rehabilitation
center for the blind. And there, I learned to cope, and I even learned to live with my
visual impairment. I participated in various group and one-on-one therapy sessions. I
also partook of courses that taught me to do things like launder my clothes, cook and
prepare my foods, and even maintain and operate a computer, you know, with no sight.
From there, I learned about another resource, and that was disABILITY LINK.
disABILITY LINK was a center of independent living that offers services and resources
to people of the cross-disabilities community. So that means, no matter what your
disability is, this place has something there to help you. From there, I learned to
advocate for myself. I learned to read a situation according to the different sounds and
maybe even the cadence of a person's voice. And that is just something that I did not
have before losing my sight. So now, what you have before you, you have the voice of
recovery right here. You know, this is the voice of independent living; I certainly am
hope.
Again, I have a voice, and I'm determined to use it. I have learned to maintain my
diabetes through what I eat, what I drink, and through exercise, which is something I
absolutely hate, but it is absolutely--it is a necessary, especially in my world and in my
life. I have now been walking with a prosthetic for over six years. I am no longer a
crippled, below-the-knee amputee; I am now able to stand tall and strong with the strut
of a proud peacock. Again, I am recovery. And what I'll say is my sight is extremely bad,
yet my vision is crystal clear at this point in my life.
IRVIN: Thank you so much for taking time to talk with me today, Bridgette.
SUTTLE: Youre welcome.