I had dropped my daughter Jillian off at school and about two hours later received a call from her teacher. She called to say that
Jillian had “freaked out” in class. The teacher explained that the class had been pretending to be pirates and when she put a patch on Jillian’s eye, she had thrown her hands out in front of
her as if trying to reach out for something and fallen to the fl oor screaming for help.
We went immediately to see Jillian’s pediatrician. He was skeptical, as we hadn’t noticed any vision issues with Jillian, but he said we would check it out. I stood with Jillian at one end of a long hallway while our doctor stood by the eye chart at the other end. A nurse covered one of Jillian’s eyes and she read the chart with no problem. Then, the nurse covered the other eye.
“MOMMY, HELP ME!”
My heart nearly stopped as Jillian instantly threw her hands up in front of her and started calling out for me. “Mommy, Mommy, help me!” I was standing right next to her within arms reach of her right shoulder. I spoke softly to her, telling her I was right there. She looked in my direction as if searching for me. I grabbed her hand and started to cry. The doctor looked completely shocked. Hesaid, “Jillian, can you see the eye chart on the wall?” She moved her head all around as if
searching the sky and ground and everywhere in between. Our doctor then said, “Jillian, can you see me?” and she stood very still and
softly murmured, “I hear you.” The doctor left us in the examination room and called to get her in immediately at the children’s hospital. I was terrified. What was wrong with my baby girl? Had she always
been blind in one eye? If not, why was she not able to see—all of sudden—out of one eye? How could we have missed that?
A week later, the ophthalmologist told us that Jillian had amblyopia. I had never heard the word but I soon learned that amblyopia is
“partial or complete loss of vision in one eye caused by conditions that affect the normal development of vision.”* With amblyopia, the
brain favors one strong eye over the weaker one. The weak eye is eventually ignored by the brain, and therefore the brain cells related to
eyesight do not mature normally. Amblyopia is the most common cause of monocular blindness, partial or complete blindness in
one eye. It affects an estimated two to three percent of children in the United States. So, yes, Jillian had basically become blind in
one eye because her brain had all but ceased communicating with the weak eye. The doctor explained that there is no surgery to correct
amblyopia. The most common treatment is to force the brain to start using the “bad” eye by putting a patch over the “good” eye.
THE BEST WE COULD EXPECT
Jillian wore an eye patch for ten to eleven hours a day for three years. Her limited vision led us to the decision to home school
during that time. At the end of third grade, our ophthalmologist said that Jillian had made as much progress as she could with
the eye patch. The vision in her weak eye had improved to 20/40 with the assistance of eyeglasses. We were told that was the best
we could expect. Jillian was so excited to return to public
school. She started fourth grade feeling a little nervous, but with high hopes. Her fourth grade teacher was fantastic. She was quick to point
out Jillian’s strengths, but equally concerned about her weaknesses. She told me that Jillian could answer questions verbally and recite her
times tables perfectly, but then she would fail the written math exam. I assumed that Jillian needed to see the ophthalmologist about
adjusting her eyeglasses prescription. When we saw him, he agreed that she needed a slight change, but said it shouldn’t be causing
her problems in school. He had nothing else to offer. That afternoon I sat at my computer and typed into Google the words “vision” and “learning.” I found pages and pages of information about
something called vision therapy. I didn’t know if this would help Jillian, but I was willing to try anything. I clicked on one of the links to find a vision therapist in our area. With a silent prayer, I dialed the number.The first thing I discovered about vision therapy is that 20/20 eyesight is not 20/20 vision. Eyesight is merely the basic ability to
“see.” Vision is the ability to identify, interpret, comprehend, and act on what is seen. Visual memory, visual concentration, eye teaming,
and focusing skills all come into play with vision therapy. At Jillian’s first vision therapy appointment, I was drawn to a wall in the hallway. It was plastered with photographs of patients of all ages accompanied by their success stories. I enjoyed learning about a high school
student who, after overcoming an eye muscle weakness that caused double vision, went on to be the pitcher on her university’s softball team. I was also inspired to hear about the man who was able to achieve his dream of becoming a Navy Seal.I learned that vision problems are as troubling for adults as they are for children and teens. Undiagnosed and untreated vision challenges follow adults into their later years, sometimes disrupting careers. As it turns out,
many adults have solved serious problems through vision therapy.
NO TEAMWORK
After Jillian’s initial consultation, we were told that one of her most worrisome and immediate problems was that her eyes were
not teaming together. They were working independently of each other. The therapist explained that this is a common result of eye
patching. With normal vision, both eyes work cooperatively, sweeping easily from side to side. However, as Jillian would read a line in
a page of text, her left eye would read a few words to the middle of the line and then her right eye would try to take over for the other
half of the line. Her vision was causing not only reading difficulties, but troubles with math and handwriting as well. Jillian embraced the challenge of vision therapy. She knew that schoolwork was
harder for her than most others in her class. She had told me she wished her teacher would not hang up her drawings or stories on
the wall because they were not as pretty as other students’ work. It was a relief to her to find out there was someone specially trained
who could help her. Jillian did vision therapy exercises four or
five nights a week at home, and worked an hour every week in the vision therapist’s office. Many vision therapy instruments are unique
and creative. Some are unique in that they have been engineered specifically for vision problems. Others are creative: simply a ball on
a string, a newspaper, a chalkboard, a mirror, golf tees, a low balance beam. One unique tool is the translid binocular interactor (TBI), which fl ashes a bright white light, alternating between the left and right
eye at nine cycles per second. In Jillian’s case, the goal of the TBI was to stop the brain from suppressing her weak eye. Suppression
comes from the brain’s desire to have a clear image and to protect against double vision. Another tool used to correct amblyopia is
the standing cheiroscope. The cheiroscope looks something like binoculars or an oldfashioned viewfinder. Jillian would use a pencil
to trace a drawing while looking through this device, which immediately revealed if Jillian was suppressing her weak eye or not. The picture would be incomplete if she was only using one eye.
LITTLE BO PEEP WITH NO SHEEP
One of Jillian’s favorite exercises involved the near-vision vectogram. In this exercise, images of storybook characters like Humpty
Dumpty, Little Bo Peep, and Old King Cole are presented on transparencies. The vectogram has polarized lenses. The result is that when Jillian would look at the images and then tell the vision therapist, for example, that Humpty Dumpty’s hat was missing or Little Bo Peep
had no sheep, the therapist knew that Jillian’s brain was suppressing her right eye. Jillian graduated from vision therapy fifteen
months after she began. What an amazing transformation had taken place! When she recently turned 11, we went to see her
pediatrician for an annual physical. He was so pleased with how well Jillian was doing. He said he was glad that the ophthalmologist
had been so helpful. I said, “He wasn’t. We found vision therapy.”
That was, perhaps, a little unfair to the ophthalmologist. The eyeglasses and eye patching did help Jillian to make progress,
but at that point Jillian was almost like a car with a good engine but poor steering. Jillian also needed the development that the vision
therapist was able to help her accomplish. Jillian now wears one contact lens instead of glasses. She is doing so well in school and
is much more aware of her surroundings. She loves riding her bike and scooter and I don’t worry as much as I used to about her safety. It’s nice to be on par with all mothers who worry about skinned knees and elbows instead of the gut-wrenching fear that she won’t see a car until it is too late. Years ago, we wondered why our purpleand-
pink-pajama-wearing princess would be so distraught over wearing a pirate eye patch. Now we know. It took a six-year roller
coaster ride of good days and bad days to find answers. What a journey it has been. Jillian’s odyssey may have started with the
letter P, but it has now reached the letter A. That is, with the exception of a B+ in math, all the A’s she got on her last report card. ▼
_________________________
*Webster’s New World Medical Dictionary
For more information about vision therapy,
visit: www.covd.org and www.visiontherapy.
org.
The author also welcomes visits to her
website: www.thejillianstory.com
Lifeglow
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