Direction Over Perfection

If the decision was ever made to award indoctrination into the world of psychological treatment by proxy, my guess is most of us in the Vision Therapy room would at least qualify for consideration. Although few us could speak intelligently about the tactics of manipulation or influence a true psychologist may use, many in the Vision Therapy room have redefined and personified the acts of being supportive, nurturing, encouraging, and dare I say, inspiring. Many times conversations veer into a patient’s home life, troubles at school, or even the challenges of the specific world which hinders them. We discuss the good, the bad, and the ugly with our patients, all the while working to remain a positive force for the younger, a light-hearted comfort for the older, and maybe we will even find a friend or two of our own generation along the way.  Personally, there’s been a cultivation of friendship with more than a handful of my patients, and the door remains open, always. Some of those friendships begin during a dark time and blossom when the sun rises. As an example, a few years back, a young teenage patient who was on a streak of bad luck informed me she was considering intentionally crashing her car on the freeway and a means of suicide.  Before she left that day, we informed both her parents and the police, and luckily, she was able to receive the help she needed. She withdrew from Vision Therapy for a while, resurfacing several months later to deliver a hug, a “thank you”, and a vow of friendship. We now exchange phone calls and text messages regularly, just to check in. The interesting factor to me in this process is my patients all begin the same, needing some type of visual treatment, and somewhere along the way a transformation occurs. We become more than the person sliding a vectogram or the one who is hiding a pattern of blocks behind a screen. We become someone important to them, someone they trust, someone they look up to, someone they might even reach out to during their darkest day. I’ve never taken that trust or admiration for granted, and in fact, its become something managed with a growing sense of responsibility in my life. I cannot tell you why, mostly because as I sit here typing I don’t clearly understand it myself, but something is differently lately. There’s been a shift in the paradigm of my little Vision Therapy bubble and I wasn’t ready for it.

When moving back home, my thought was this is another stop along my journey, and with any luck, my last. There was a time I was considering an exit from Developmental Optometry altogether, but I’ve found a VT home – oddly enough, right where I started over 20 years ago. Luckily or unluckily, depending on your perspective, there is a whole new world to explore. New kids, new families, new patients, and new staff members to learn from. Although acclimating to a new environment is a process, the actual delivery of Vision Therapy did not necessarily change but the need behind it seems to of shifted. Convergence Insufficieny is still a thing, and seeing double is still bad, but it doesn’t end there. These kiddos have self-confidence issues, they have parents going through divorce, they are having accidents at night, and they need someone to help them through the tough times. And that’s hitting me. Really hard.

“Why does it feel bad when I finish last on a test?”

“Why can’t mommy and daddy live in the same house?”

“Why did I get adopted by a family and two days later they gave me back?”

I never believed in the notion Vision Therapy can fix anything and everything – not even close. As therapists, we all have our limits, and as a modality we tend to find the most success when we stick with vergence ranges and saccadic fixators. But as people, a group of trusted and learned friends, we have a responsibility to those who choose to open up, to share their world, and even to look for us to shine a light on their darkest day.

My education in the psychological world is minimal. I had two courses in college mostly built on understanding the difference between Sigmund Freud and Carl James, which has been hardly applicable. Combine that with growing up in a household next to a younger brother with special needs, and I perhaps have an ounce or two more knowledge than someone else, but at best it’s marginal. The point I realized to be true lately though is it doesn’t matter. Most kids just need someone to talk to, someone to listen to their concerns, someone to believe in them, someone to show compassion without judgement. They need to know you’re on their side no matter what. As the old saying goes – before they care how much you know, they have to know how much you care.

With the help of her mom, one of my favorite VT graduates connected with me today for an hour via FaceTime and she was smiling from ear to ear. Her mom shared her grades with me during the week and they were incredible! Ancient history are the rough sessions we used to endure. Ancient history are the many academic and emotional challenges, including failed tests and bed wetting, we would discuss weekly. Ancient history is the anger and frustration she would display when someone would bring up any of her struggles. Ancient history, I tell you. Her days are much brighter now. Happiness and confidence look amazing on her young little face. In fact, today’s conversation included her sharing:

“I’m happy you are my friend. When I was in VT I was embarrassed to tell you things even though I knew you wanted to help…and I’m sorry about that. School was really hard and I felt stupid. I hated it. Now I want to go to college and become a Vision Therapist!”

Apparently someone started cutting onions in my house right then…

If you’ve never had a kid crumble emotionally in front of you, especially when they are exposing every uncomfortable inch of their being, I challenge you to not get misty eyed in the moment. It’s not easy. After doing my best to validate her words, I spent the next few minutes explaining how proud I was of her for sharing those feelings, for trying so hard, and for demonstrating bravery when it wasn’t easy. I reminded her this is about moving in the right direction, not about perfection. Try to improve each and every day, either through growth or by learning from mistakes, that’s how we get better! I reassured her that she had made amazing changes and I was grateful to be a part of it! Although she has graduated Vision Therapy, my offering of emotional support will continue.

Vision Therapy may not have all the answers, and its people, be they novice or sage, may not always achieve the desired measurement during an activity. But as human beings, as individuals, as role models, and as trusted friends, your responsibility reaches far beyond understanding a vectogram or turning on a peg rotator. This is a life you’re holding in your hands. A living, breathing, hoping to feel better about themselves in-the-flesh human being. My hope is the total tonnage of that concept weighs on you heavily, as it does me, every single day. These are people who need you not to demonstrate perfection; rather, to understand which direction success and comfort can be found, and with any luck, an idea and path of how to get there. The gravity of that concept never escapes me, and I work in awe of it every single day.

Come to think of it, something is different. Someone has all A’s.