A journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step.

They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step. Today I took my first step in what may be a very long journey ahead. As with any steps taken in an unknown direction, I have many fears and trepidations; but these emotions are squelched by the hope and anticipation that now wells, even grows within me.

I'd like to introduce you to a man I met today. In order to protect his identity, I will refer to him as Dr. T. An Internet search led me to a clinic that specialized in eye training and therapy. My complimentary free screening appointment was late in the day and scheduled to last 30 minutes. As I sat in the waiting room, I saw a mom waiting for her son to finish some visual training with a therapist. I overheard murmurings through closed doors as Dr. T. was discussing treatment options with an adolescent girl who was having reading problems.

Dr. T. emerged from behind closed doors, finished his conversation with the family seeking treatment, and approached the front desk to check in on his next appointment. He immediately recognized me from the email correspondence we had briefly engaged in last week. He greeted me warmly with a firm handshake, placing his left hand on top of our embrace in a friendly, welcoming manner. He said he had a gift for me; the fulfillment of a promise he had made me online. He went into an office and emerged with a new hardbound copy of a book written by Dr. Susan Barry entitled, "Fixing my Gaze--A Scientist's Journey into Seeing in Three Dimensions." He told me that he remembered me because of the description I left on the Optometrist's Network sounded identical to the story Susan Barry describes in her book. He was looking forward to our meeting.

One of the problems with only having one seeing eye is that I do not have binocular vision. Because my eyes do not point in the same direction and are unable to focus on the same object at the same time, my brain becomes confused and in order to help me make sense of the visual world around me, it shuts off the vision in my right eye so that it can function--basically a survival of the fittest mentality! That is what makes me legally blind in my right eye--the information to my brain is muddled and confused, so are the images I see when I try to see out of that eye. I have what is referred to as monocular vision. Being well acquainted with Susan Barry's condition and experience, Dr. T. gave me her book so I would not feel alone in the long journey ahead. He knows I will need all the support, understanding, and hope I can muster to traverse the path ahead.

We talked for over a hour and a half. Dr. T. was not only familiar with my condition, but he genuinely sympathized with my story. It was almost as if he had was an amblyope himself, but of course he wasn't. He offered me hope that my condition could be treated; it may not work, but unless I tried, I would never know. He was most concerned that I would have enough motivation and drive to endure the long, grueling journey toward obtaining binocular vision. It may take years--training for 30-45 minutes each day, five days per week. Would I have the gumption, stamina, and dedication to the training? I had to do some real soul searching.

Twelve years ago I pursued treatment for my eye at Pacific University in Forest Grove, Oregon. After a series of extensive tests and evaluations the doctors told me that I could undergo treatment. They described a regime similar to Dr. T.; however, they told me that there was a strong possibility that if it did not work correctly, I could end seeing double for the rest of my life. At that time I was unwilling to take this risk. Twelve years later, here I am entertaining this notion again, but this time my motivation is much higher. This time I am willing to try.

I mentioned my fear to the doctor and he said that he did not believe I would run the risk of double-vision; instead, my greatest risk would be that the treatment would not work--that we would invest all of the energy and time into the process only to find the process fail. To me, this was no risk at all. To me, there was no reason why I shouldn't proceed. I was ready, willing, and able. I told the doctor of my desire to begin treatment immediately; when do we get started?

Even though the doctor is scheduled to be on vacation, he cleared his calendar for Friday morning in order to conduct a complete evaluation on my eye. He understands why I want to get started right away. I have endured forty-three years of this condition; it is definitely time for a change!