Deafblind Techie

If you've ever seen me place a small device in the middle of the table, or set up a lanyard microphone, you may have wondered what on earth I’m doing. No, I’m not recording you. No, I’m not spying. And no — it’s not some secret gadget. These devices are part of the Phonak Roger System lineup, designed to support people with hearing loss. More importantly — they help me hear. What is Roger? Roger is a remote microphone system which streams sound directly to my cochlear implants. I wear the Advanced Bionics Marvel processors, and Roger can connect directly to them without any additional connectors. Instead of sound travelling like this: Speaker → Room air → Background noise → My implants → My brain It travels like this: Speaker → Microphone → My implants → My brain That difference might look small on paper — but in real life, it’s huge. It removes distance. It reduces background noise. And it makes speech much clearer and easier to follow. Why That Matters Even ...

Cooking with a visual impairment isn’t about mastering every available low-vision gadget or doing things “the correct way”. For me, it’s about finding strategies that build confidence through familiar methods. Knowing where tools are stored, how they feel in my hands, and trusting touch rather than relying solely on visual or audible cues. For important context, I still live at home with my family and share cooking responsibilities. In an average week, I typically prepare one or two evening meals, most lunches, and some baked goods. The adaptations I use with confidence aren’t about tackling everything alone. They’re about being able to prepare food safely and calmly, reducing stress and the risk of injury. Most importantly, they make cooking feel not only enjoyable, but doable. Over time, I’ve learned several dependable habits that make a meaningful difference — rather than forking out money for expensive, specialist low-vision aids that don’t always meet my needs. Below are the one...

An overview showing the standard High Contrast settings menu High Contrast Mode on Windows 10/11 wasn’t a feature I discovered for fun, but out of necessity. I first used it years ago to make the platform I sat my A-level exams on accessible, as there was no way to invert the brightness. At the time, it was a temporary solution — something I enabled when I needed it. More recently, though, I had to make a permanent switch. A screenshot of the Deafblind Techie Blog viewed using Windows High Contrast Mode The Day My Setup Broke One morning, I logged onto my PC and almost immediately had to pause. The text wasn’t white — it was grey. Flatter. Darker. Harder to identify, and simply exhausting to look at for more than 30 minutes at a time. Up until that point, I’d had no issues using dark mode with large text. But on that day, I knew. My sight had declined overnight. Why a Screen Reader Wasn’t the Answer I needed an alternative. Something that would allow me to continue working at a comput...

I don’t play that many games — but the ones I do, I play a lot of. That isn’t because I don’t enjoy gaming. It’s because accessibility requires consideration, and that consideration is often missing. The games that work for me are predictable, visually flexible, and calm, while still offering enough variation that they don’t become boring. If a game relies heavily on constant audio cues , fast reactions, or overwhelming visuals, it quickly becomes exhausting and turns into a hard no. Minecraft is one of the rare exceptions. It hits a sweet spot — not because it’s perfect out of the box, but because I’ve been able to shape it around my personal accessibility needs. This isn’t a universal guide. It’s simply how I play Minecraft as a deafblind gamer with some remaining vision, and the key things that make it accessible enough for me to remain a genuinely loved hobby. How I Play Most of the time, I play Java Edition on my PC, though I do occasionally play Bedrock as well. Sometimes I’m...

I don’t tend to have lots of apps on my phone. It’s not because I don’t like trying new things, but because accessibility requires intention — not unnecessary clutter. Not apps that slowly eat through gigabytes of storage, but ones that offer consistency, reliability, and ease of use. If an app doesn’t meaningfully improve my life (daily or weekly), sorry — but it’s a hard no from me. Of course, I still have the standard apps that 99% of people do: WhatsApp, YouTube, a music app, and so on. But there are also plenty of apps that claim to be accessible. These five are my tried-and-true favourites — the ones that have genuinely earned their place on my phone. What Makes an App Worth It? Before diving into the list, it’s worth explaining the criteria I use. An app earns its storage space if it: Works reliably with the accessibility settings enabled on my phone Has a predictable visual layout with minimal pop-ups Doesn’t rely on sound or visual cues alone, but instead combines them — stron...

A blue Arriva bus similar to the ones I trained on  The day I was officially signed off to independently use buses marked a turning point for me. No longer do I need to plan events in advance around when someone is available to drop me off or pick me up. Now I have the freedom to say “I’m going to see my friends” or “I’m going shopping.” It’s opened up a world bigger than my immediate local area. But Getting Here Took Time But what about the journey to get to this point? Well… it took time. Why Bus Travel Isn’t Simple Bus travel can be unpredictable. It might be busy or quiet onboard. Announcements aren’t always audible, and skipped stops mean counting stops to yours isn’t a reliable method. Learning how to navigate all of this was just as important as learning the route itself. What Bus Training Gave Me Bus training provided me with: Consistency — repeating the route until I could indep...