'Tales of a Carer ( Number 2 )' by Peter Hodges

Reg is six-foot-six. His thinning hair brushes the top of a standard doorway. This means his white cane is so long that it stretches out in front of him. A cane is chosen for the individual: length because the handle is held at chest level; tip type to suit terrain and likely hazards.
Meeting Reg in a doorway is a hazard in itself. If you don't see the ball tip come nipping through like a rat out of a hole, it's between your legs before you know it.
Cars on pavements are a particular bane to the visually impaired and here the stick offers a kind of perverse satisfaction. Whereas the cane will detect the vehicle, the tip may well go under the bumper or be caught in a wheel arch; the consequence of which can be a bent cane or the tip broken off. The stick may not notify of the hazard and the user may well get barked shins or a bang on the face. This leads to a sudden surge of anger and a rush of adrenaline. If anyone is in the vehicle or, indeed, in the vicinity, they will be adequately informed of the situation as that stick soundly smacks each body panel as it passes. Well worth it, one might say.