The One Eye Plow Guy

My right eye went dark in 2003. I failed to leave a cornea abrasion covered long enough. The eye looked around the obstruction. The muscles pulled to the outside and peeled the retina off the back of the eye. Diabetic retinapathy, opportunistic of other problems.
I started plowing in 2006, in part because other peoples’ unreliability had crossed all acceptable lines. The city had thoroughly plowed me in, not just with a massive plow ridge, but by moving the snow from the main street to the dead-end access that led to my parking. I had a contractor plowing, but he vacationed to Florida every February. I have not driven since October 2011 but only sold the jeep two months ago. I’m feeling that loss and it triggers feelings of uselessness and helplessness via things outside my control. These things are issues I had handled after experiencing them but have come full circle.
I can only accept limitations. I can only try to impress those genuine limitations on others. A blind guy with a bad leg and reliance on an orthopedic boot brace cannot go shovel someone else’s car out.
I was good at the plowing. The first snowfall after I obtained the Jeep Wrangler was a minor but complicated storm. An inch of snow fell, then turned to rain. The precipitation stopped when a cold front blew in and froze the slush. Wanting to practice and play with the new equipment, I plowed the properties I managed. The tenants were thrilled. Their home lots were bare dry pavement while everywhere else, work, commercial establishments and most municipal streets, were slicked over with layers of ice that remained for days.
I no longer have the equipment to do that because I am no longer equipped to operate the equipment. I did not stop driving because someone made me, or because I had gotten into a serious accident because I was driving past the time I should have been. I stopped on my own because I didn’t want to kill myself or someone else.
Medications combine with insulin fluctuations to trigger periods of vertigo. I have a hard enough time moving and standing without carrying things when the ground is smooth and dry. Snowstorms had been my active times since 2006, and also periods of productive alone time. I miss those aspects. I would prefer to be able to continue some of them, but that’s now physically possible for me any longer. There’s a negative emotional charge to the entire situation for me.
A Wrangler is one of the shortest vehicles that can handle a plow (and I still burned out two transmissions.) Mine was equipped with the narrowest plow blade available. I could get into tight areas despite the fact that my field of vision was reduced and I lacked depth perception. I really was performing beyond my physical capabilities
Those physical capabilities are further diminished now, permanently. I am learning to accept that. Can others do the same?