I am two weeks into my vision therapy and beginning to experience some emotional duress related to my treatment. Not only have I suppressed vision in my right eye, but I have suppressed emotions relating to my blindness. Like earthworms beneath the ground during a heavy rainstorm, my emotions are finding a way to surface and make an unsightly appearance.
What seems to amplify my emotions is knowledge. You see, I know what it is like to have good eyesight. My good eye has always compensated for my lack of vision in my bad eye; therefore I have had excellent vision in that eye all my life. In my younger years my acuity in my good eye was measured to be better than normal. Doctors said I had 20/15 vision in that eye. What normal folks could see at 15 feet, I could stand back at 20 feet to see the same thing. Only in the past 5 years or so have I developed a bit of astigmatism. Other than the normal wear and tear due to senescence, I see beautifully out of my left eye.
As I mentioned earlier in my blog, my brain suppresses the vision in my right eye because my alignment and visual acuity is so drastically off compared to my left eye. With my right eye, I cannot even see the big "E" on the eye chart. Even with corrective lenses I cannot see the big "E." I can see that there is black and white in front of me -- some lines are vertical and some horizontal -- but the images shift around, almost like my brain is turning on and off my vision while my eye moves around the page, desperately trying to make sense of the what I am looking at. This flickering and movement causes, what I refer to as "blind spots." These blind spots cover the crisp colors and vivid lines I see when I look out of my right eye -- the shifting causes the blind spots to move around my visual field, disallowing me to see anything exactly. I see vivid colors and lines, but only one glimpse at a time. There is no continuity in my vision -- I cannot hold the objects stable. These blind spots consume my clarity.
If somehow I could find a way to remove these blind spots, I am quite certain I would have normal vision in my eye. I truly believe the vision in my right eye is comparable to the vision I have out of my left eye, but with these shifting blind spots layered on top. My newest theory is that these blind spots are caused from my brain wanting so desperately to turn off the vision in that eye. When I force myself to see out of that eye, my brain says, "Nope, I don't think so..." and then proceeds to darken the image. My eye wants to see, so it moves my fovea around -- trying to see "around" the blind spots -- but it is unable to succeed. The darkness consumes my sight.
Lately I have been thinking that maybe my fovea not only refuses to work, but possibly there is something inherently wrong with it -- a malfunction of a sort. Could this have happened at the time of my birth? Could the pressure of being lodged in the birth canal damaged my eye muscles, leading to misalignment of my eye and ultimately causing my brain to become confused by the misaligned visual images. My brain developed a sophisticated way of turning off the vision by creating these blind spots - a darkening of my vision so that I would not use that eye. Perhaps my vision was perfect when I was in my mother's womb, but only upon birth did this mishap occur and my brain found a way for me to see around my deformity. If I could somehow get my eyes to become perfectly aligned, maybe ~ just maybe the shrouds of darkness would lift from my vision and my good vision would be restored. What a day that would be! I hate to even allow myself to think that way; it would be all too simple! Just surgically correct the misalignment and see what happens!
The other day I was thinking about my vision and was trying hard to come up with some sort of metaphor so that others could better understand. I began to think of my eyes as being a radio. When you try to "dial in" to a certain radio station and are "off" the correct bandwidth by a few tenths, you hear music and static. When you are completely "tuned in" to the correct frequency, the music is clear; the static disappears. My blind spots are like visual static. If I can just get my eye dialed in correctly, maybe my vision will once again be clear. That would be a dream come true!
I have often thought of that day, the day I have surgery on my eye muscles. I imagine that the doctor would remove the tape and gauze that cover my eye and wait for me to open it for the first time. I imagine it would take me a long time to open my eye because I am afraid of the surgical outcome. So I sit there, opening my right eye a small crack while keeping my left eye closed just to see if my vision still exists. I imagine my response as I break out in tears, looking at myself for the first time in the mirror to reveal two eyes that look straight at my reflected image. Would my eyes work together? How would I see the world differently? I can only imagine.
Dr. T says we need to wait to see how I respond to visual training prior to making any decision to permanently alter my eye's alignment. My new prism glasses should help correct my misalignment so that I can start to learn to use my two eyes together. If I have the ability to see binocularly with the glasses and I respond well to the visual training, then surgery may make a lot of sense. If I do not, it would be too risky, seeing as it may worsen my vision.
Each time I engage in visual training I am reminded of the severity of my condition. My right eye is seriously screwed up! I want to have hope, but hope alone will not suffice. I am in need of a miracle. I cannot proceed in this long journey without authentic faith and an unswerving belief that God desires to heal me through this process. I must remember something that I read on the wall of an African missionary health clinic ~ "Man treats...but God heals." Although it is extremely difficult for me to understand why God would want me to live the rest of my life as a strabismic amblyope, I may have to embrace that reality. Every fiber and cell in my being desires to contend for a miracle and I will certainly fight for that outcome. One day I truly hope I can say, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now I see!"
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