Atrophy of the Optic Nerve

[...]

Stories from the Clinic

8: Atrophy of the Optic Nerve

By Emily C. Lierman
____

About twenty-five years ago a patient came to the New York Eye
Infirmary with well-marked atrophy of the optic nerve. According to
all that we know of the laws of pathology he should have been totally
blind; yet his vision was normal. The case was considered to be so
remarkable that it was exhibited before a number of medical societies,
but it was by no means an isolated one. On February 8, 1917, the
editor published in the "New York Medical Journal," under the title,
"Blindness Relieved By a New Method of Treatment," a report of a case
in which the vision was improved from perception of light to normal.
He has had quite a number of such cases.
____

Some time ago a colored woman was led into the clinic by a friend. She
had heard of Dr. Bates, and had come to him in the hope that he might
be able to restore her sight. The doctor examined her eyes, and found
that she had atrophy of the optic nerve complicated with other
troubles. She could not count her fingers, nor had she any perception
of light whatever. The doctor turned her over to me saying:
"Help her, will you?"
She was the real "mammy" type of negro, very good natured and
motherly. She greeted me with a smile and said:
"May de good Lor' bless you, ma'am, ef you can gives me again de
light oh day."
The words came from a very humble heart, and were very hopeful. When I
heard them I can tell you that I lost some of my courage. It might
turn out that I could do nothing for her, and I dreaded to disappoint
her. My work is not always easy; yet I like some hard cases to come my
way, because when I can help them I feel that I have done something
worth while.
"Won't you tell me how long you have been blind?" I asked.
"Yes, ma'am," she replied. "I's hasn't seed nothin' for two years,
I's been in the hospital all dat time an' de doctors says dat mebbe
I's nebber see again. Some friend oh mine says to me, 'You jes goes to
de Harlem Hospital Clinic. Dere you find de doctor what makes you
see.' So I jes come; dat's all."

I told her to cover her eyes with the palms of her hands and asked if
she could remember anything black. She replied:
"Yes, ma'am, I 'member stove polish black, all right."
"That's fine," I said. "Now keep remembering the black stove
polish, and that will stop the strain in your eyes. When your eyes
first began to trouble you, you strained to see, and every time you
did that your eyes became worse. Now let us see what will happen when
you stop the strain."

I stood her against the wall to make things easier for her, for we
have few chairs at the clinic, and left her to treat other patients,
telling her not to open her eyes, nor to remove her palms from them,
not for a moment, till I came back. Presently I became aware of a
strange sound, a sort of mumbling. I was greatly puzzled, but tried
not to show it for fear I would disturb the patients. All of a sudden,
as I approached my blind patient, I discovered where the sound came
from. She was saying in a low tone, "Black polish, black polish," just
as fast as she could. I now held a test card covered with E's of
various sizes turned in different directions a foot away from her
eyes, and told her to take her hands down and look at it. The doctor,
the other patients and myself were quite scared at the outburst that
followed.
"Ma'am, dat's a E; dat's a sure-nough E. I's sure dat's a black E
on some white paper."
This was a large letter on the first line, read by the normal eye at
two hundred feet.
But the next moment it faded from her eyes. That was my fault. I was
not quick enough. What I should have done was to have her close her
eyes and palm again the moment she saw the E. But I was greatly
encouraged, not only because the patient had had a flash of vision,
but because Dr. Bates had said he was sure I would help her to see
again. I again told her to palm and remember black, and when, in a few
moments, I asked her to take down her hands and look at the card, she
again saw the E, and blacker than the first time. I now told her to
close her eyes and open them for just a second, alternately,
remembering the stove polish as she did so. She did this for a time,
and was able to see the E each time she opened her eyes.
"Now," I said, as I raised my hand and held it one foot from her
eyes, "how many fingers can you see?"
"Three," she replied, which was correct.
I told her to rest her eyes by palming many times a day, and to come
and see me three times a week. I also gave her some advice about her
diet, and told her that enemas were quite necessary to relieve her
constipation.

Next clinic day she saw the seventy line of letters at one foot, and
they did not fade away as did the E the first time she saw it. I told
her to palm some more, and in a few minutes she counted my fingers
correctly every time I asked her to, with only one exception.
"If dis here seein' keeps up, ma'am," she remarked, "I sure will be
able to earn mar livin' again. De Lor' bless you ma'am."

She continued to come and made slow but sure progress for a time. Then
came a time when she stayed away for several months. As I was very
anxious to cure her, I worried about her considerably during this
time. Then one day she turned up again. She seemed to be very much
frightened about something, but her eyes looked much better. I was so
glad to see her, and she seemed so much upset, that I refrained from
scolding her, as I felt like doing, and in course of time I discovered
the reason for her absence. She had been under treatment for some
other troubles, and some doctor or nurse had scared her into
discontinuing her visits to our clinic. She had, however, continued to
palm several hours a day with most gratifying results.
"Do you know, ma'am," she said, "I's can see every house number as
I go visitin', an' I goes out to a day's work once in a while."

She continued to come quite regularly, and her improvement continued.
Sometimes I would find that she did not see as well as at her previous
visit, but immediate improvement always followed palming. Her
gratitude was pathetic, and every little while she would bring a
bundle, saying:
"Dis here is fo' you, ma'am. You sabe me from blindness. Yes, you
did, an' I's mighty grateful."
These bundles contained gifts of various kinds—a cocoa-nut from the
West Indies at one time, grapefruit and cucumbers at another, and a
third a necklace made of tropical beans of various colors.

The greatest day of her life came a few weeks ago when she washed a
full set of Dresden china for her employer, without breaking a single
piece, and earned four dollars and twenty cents by her day's work. If
she continues to practice the palming, which she now forgets
sometimes, I have no doubt that she will, in time, obtain normal
vision. She now sees the largest letter on the card twenty feet away,
and reads the headlines in newspapers. Recently Dr. Bates examined her
eyes with the ophthalmoscope, and found the appearance of the optic
nerve very much improved, more blood-vessels being visible in the
papilla, or head of the nerve.
____

Imperfect Sight Can be Cured Without Glasses
You Can Cure Yourself
You Can Cure Others

Better Eyesight
A monthly magazine devoted to the prevention and cure of imperfect
sight without glasses
Copyright, 1920, by the Central Fixation Publishing Company
Editor—W. H. Bates, M.D.
Publisher—Central Fixation Publishing Co.
$2.00 per year, 20 cents per copy
342 West 42nd Street, New York, N. Y.
Vol. III - October, 1920 - No. 4
____

[...]

MikeOD> Magical thinking is common in schizophrenia.

-MT

=========

So Dr. Bates and all second-opinion people (who you disagree with)
are:

1. Are schizophrenic, and/or
2. Magical

If you "rule" applied for all time, then:

Ignaz Semmelwise was both.

No doctor would be "washing his hands" because:

Belief in the existence of germs is "magical".

Q. E. D.

Enjoy,





On Aug 20, 10:07*am, "Mike Tyner" <mty...@mindspring.com> wrote:
> Magical thinking is common *in schizophrenia.
>
> -MT
>
> "Lelouch" <misa...@googlemail.com> wrote in message
>
> news:e7c190f3-c4f6-42a5-9b00-(E-Mail Removed)...
> [...]
>
> Stories from the Clinic
>
> 8: Atrophy of the Optic Nerve
>
> By Emily C. Lierman
> ____
>
> About twenty-five years ago a patient came to the New York Eye
> Infirmary with well-marked atrophy of the optic nerve. According to
> all that we know of the laws of pathology he should have been totally
> blind; yet his vision was normal. The case was considered to be so
> remarkable that it was exhibited before a number of medical societies,
> but it was by no means an isolated one. On February 8, 1917, the
> editor published in the "New York Medical Journal," under the title,
> "Blindness Relieved By a New Method of Treatment," a report of a case
> in which the vision was improved from perception of light to normal.
> He has had quite a number of such cases.
> ____
>
> Some time ago a colored woman was led into the clinic by a friend. She
> had heard of Dr. Bates, and had come to him in the hope that he might
> be able to restore her sight. The doctor examined her eyes, and found
> that she had atrophy of the optic nerve complicated with other
> troubles. She could not count her fingers, nor had she any perception
> of light whatever. The doctor turned her over to me saying:
> * *"Help her, will you?"
> She was the real "mammy" type of negro, very good natured and
> motherly. She greeted me with a smile and said:
> * *"May de good Lor' bless you, ma'am, ef you can gives me again de
> light oh day."
> The words came from a very humble heart, and were very hopeful. When I
> heard them I can tell you that I lost some of my courage. It *might
> turn out that I could do nothing for her, and I dreaded to disappoint
> her. My work is not always easy; yet I like some hard cases to come my
> way, because when I can help them I feel that I have done something
> worth while.
> * *"Won't you tell me how long you have been blind?" I asked.
> * *"Yes, ma'am," she replied. "I's hasn't seed nothin' for two years,
> I's been in the hospital all dat time an' de doctors says dat mebbe
> I's nebber see again. Some friend oh mine says to me, 'You jes goes to
> de Harlem Hospital Clinic. Dere you find de doctor what makes you
> see.' So I jes come; dat's all."
>
> I told her to cover her eyes with the palms of her hands and asked if
> she could remember anything black. She replied:
> * *"Yes, ma'am, I 'member stove polish black, all right."
> * *"That's fine," I said. "Now keep remembering the black stove
> polish, and that will stop the strain in your eyes. When your eyes
> first began to trouble you, you strained to see, and every time you
> did that your eyes became worse. Now let us see what will happen when
> you stop the strain."
>
> I stood her against the wall to make things easier for her, for we
> have few chairs at the clinic, and left her to treat other patients,
> telling her not to open her eyes, nor to remove her palms from them,
> not for a moment, till I came back. Presently I became aware of a
> strange sound, a sort of mumbling. I was greatly puzzled, but tried
> not to show it for fear I would disturb the patients. All of a sudden,
> as I approached my blind patient, I discovered where the sound came
> from. She was saying in a low tone, "Black polish, black polish," just
> as fast as she could. I now held a test card covered with E's of
> various sizes turned in different directions a foot away from her
> eyes, and told her to take her hands down and look at it. The doctor,
> the other patients and myself were quite scared at the outburst that
> followed.
> * *"Ma'am, dat's a E; dat's a sure-nough E. I's sure dat's a black E
> on some white paper."
> This was a large letter on the first line, read by the normal eye at
> two hundred feet.
> But the next moment it faded from her eyes. That was my fault. I was
> not quick enough. What I should have done was to have her close her
> eyes and palm again the moment she saw the E. But I was greatly
> encouraged, not only because the patient had had a flash of vision,
> but because Dr. Bates had said he was sure I would help her to see
> again. I again told her to palm and remember black, and when, in a few
> moments, I asked her to take down her hands and look at the card, she
> again saw the E, and blacker than the first time. I now told her to
> close her eyes and open them for just a second, alternately,
> remembering the stove polish as she did so. She did this for a time,
> and was able to see the E each time she opened her eyes.
> * *"Now," I said, as I raised my hand and held it one foot from her
> eyes, "how many fingers can you see?"
> * *"Three," she replied, which was correct.
> I told her to rest her eyes by palming many times a day, and to come
> and see me three times a week. I also gave her some advice about her
> diet, and told her that enemas were quite necessary to relieve her
> constipation.
>
> Next clinic day she saw the seventy line of letters at one foot, and
> they did not fade away as did the E the first time she saw it. I told
> her to palm some more, and in a few minutes she counted my fingers
> correctly every time I asked her to, with only one exception.
> * *"If dis here seein' keeps up, ma'am," she remarked, "I sure will be
> able to earn mar livin' again. De Lor' bless you ma'am."
>
> She continued to come and made slow but sure progress for a time. Then
> came a time when she stayed away for several months. As I was very
> anxious to cure her, I worried about her considerably during this
> time. Then one day she turned up again. She seemed to be very much
> frightened about something, but her eyes looked much better. I was so
> glad to see her, and she seemed so much upset, that I refrained from
> scolding her, as I felt like doing, and in course of time I discovered
> the reason for her absence. She had been under treatment for some
> other troubles, and some doctor or nurse had scared her into
> discontinuing her visits to our clinic. She had, however, continued to
> palm several hours a day with most gratifying results.
> * *"Do you know, ma'am," she said, "I's can see every house number as
> I go visitin', an' I goes out to a day's work once in a while."
>
> She continued to come quite regularly, and her improvement continued.
> Sometimes I would find that she did not see as well as at her previous
> visit, but immediate improvement always followed palming. Her
> gratitude was pathetic, and every little while she would bring a
> bundle, saying:
> * *"Dis here is fo' *you, ma'am. You sabe me from blindness. Yes, you
> did, an' I's mighty grateful."
> These bundles contained gifts of various kinds—a cocoa-nut from the
> West Indies at one time, grapefruit and cucumbers at another, and a
> third a necklace made of tropical beans of various colors.
>
> The greatest day of her life came a few weeks ago when she washed a
> full set of Dresden china for her employer, without breaking a single
> piece, and earned four dollars and twenty cents by her day's work. If
> she continues to practice the palming, which she now forgets
> sometimes, I have no doubt that she will, in time, obtain normal
> vision. She now sees the largest letter on the card twenty feet away,
> and reads the headlines in newspapers. Recently Dr. Bates examined her
> eyes with the ophthalmoscope, and found the appearance of the optic
> nerve very much improved, more blood-vessels being visible in the
> papilla, or head of the nerve.
> ____
>
> Imperfect Sight Can be Cured Without Glasses
> You Can Cure Yourself
> You Can Cure Others
>
> Better Eyesight
> A monthly magazine devoted to the prevention and cure of imperfect
> sight without glasses
> Copyright, 1920, by the Central Fixation Publishing Company
> Editor—W. H. Bates, M.D.
> Publisher—Central Fixation Publishing Co.
> $2.00 per year, 20 cents per copy
> 342 West 42nd Street, New York, N. Y.
> Vol. III - October, 1920 - No. 4
> ____
>
> [...]

On Aug 20, 9:14*am, Otis <otisbr...@embarqmail.com> wrote:
> MikeOD> Magical thinking is common *in schizophrenia.
>
> -MT
>
> =========
>
> So Dr. Bates and all second-opinion people (who you disagree with)
> are:
>
> 1. *Are schizophrenic, and/or
> 2. *Magical

Continually trying to put words into the mouths of others is
tantamount to lying ... and ... in your case ... indicative of some
untreated pathology.

You're a sick f**k, Uncle Otie. Thank GOD you didn't procreate!