Somehow Lynsey chose to continue living -- perhaps because she had a young daughter who needed to get to school.
"My thoughts were if I could just hold myself together until she gets to school, THEN I can fall apart," she says. To keep her daughter from panicking about the whole "Mom is blind now" thing, she employed the time-honored parenting trick of turning crises into fun.
"I said to my daughter, 'Let's play a game. Let's see how good you are at making your breakfast!' I carried this on throughout getting the both of us dressed: 'Does mummy look beautiful and dressed, or does she look silly?' We walked at what was probably slower than snail's pace. I was feeling everything on the way with one hand, whilst holding my daughter's hand in the other."
There may have been a momentary mix-up along the way.
Luckily, Lynsey lived very close to her daughter's school, and there were no roads to cross on the way, but that's still pretty impressive. We're pretty sure we couldn't have made it to the bathroom without somehow falling off a cliff, Looney Toons-style.
Audrey had the benefit of knowing she was going blind, so she could plan ahead. One step is "blind boot camp," which is apparently a real thing. "First, I took mobility classes to learn how to get around using a white cane," she says, "They also do computer training. Cooking classes, where I'm sad to say not a single fire was started while I was there, though while organizing a spice cabinet during my first week at school -- since I didn't read enough Braille yet to read the labels on the spice bottles -- they suggested I sniff the spices to find out what they are. Naturally, one of the first spices I took a fat whiff of was white pepper ... My sinuses were never clearer than they were on that day."