Gaining Perspective Through Vision Therapy

Part 7 of a series.  Click here to start at the beginning or here to go to the previous post. 

I went to Session 7 excited to tell my therapist, Dawn, how much better I’d been feeling.  The half hour recovery sessions that left me laying on the couch covering my eyes and ears were behind me.  The blue light used to calm my brain was working.  I was on my way to better vision.  

Although I was nervous that I had to miss the following week for vacation, I felt positive about the progress I was making.  Dawn looked carefully at her calendar and let me know that the session after vacation would be our last one together.


I was so bummed to learn that Dawn was moving to another city.  Although curious about her move I was sad for myself.  She explained that her children were grown and she no longer had ties to our community.  A lease extension at her apartment complex had accelerated this big life decision.  But it had been made.  She was off.  Angst seemed to weigh heavily on her.  This hadn't been an easy decision.  

She was doing her best to be professional.  I was doing my best to not let on to my disappointment. 

Change.  It always happens.  Dang it. 

So we delved into the exercises pretending to focus on them rather than the bomb that had just been dropped.  I trusted Dawn.  She had begun to know me.  We had laughed and cried together.  Although she was hired to help me, I felt like we had a beautiful friendship developing.  I liked her.  I didn’t want her to leave. 

And her life wasn’t set out to accommodate mine. 

As it turned out, we had two more weeks together.  We talked more about her move and were able to have ‘normal’ sessions.   She told me about my new therapist, Barry, who'd be taking over.  She let me know how capable he was and that I’d be left in good hands.


When change happens unexpectedly, what happens next is all about the story I make up.  The fact is, Dawn is leaving.  I can make up a story in my mind that makes this bad or I can come up with a story that makes it good.  My natural tendency is to make up a story that’s bad like this one.

The new therapist is awful!  He doesn’t care about how this process is affecting me.  We don’t have a good connection like I had with Dawn. 

Or I can make up a story that’s good. 

Dawn goes off and has a happy life, grateful for her time in Mankato and that we met.  Barry is awesome!  We get along beautifully.  He has special insight into how my brain and eyes are struggling to work together.  He assigns exercises that bring out changes to my vision that change my life.

There, . . . that’s what I’ll believe for now.  

Why would I think anything else?    

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