Crashing Through

I've just been wowed by a book by Robert Kurson titled "Crashing Through". It's the story of Mike May, who was blinded at age 3 by a chemical burn. Over the next 40 years, he led quite an amazing life, always pushing the envelope, trying extreme stuff (like downhill speed skiing, and setting a record doing it). He got married, had 2 boys. One day he accompanied his wife to her eye doctor appointment, and when she was finished the doctor asked Mike if he could look at his eyes. After the exam, the doctor told Mike that he might be a candidate for a new type of surgery that could possibly give him back his vision in one eye.

This type of surgery is really two surgeries; the first transplants a micro-thin layer of stem cells from an organ donor. The stem cells lay a foundation for the second surgery, a cornea transplant from a second donor, about 4 months later.

There are risks with this surgery, ranging from the simplest (it might just not work) to a risk of cancer from taking immuno-suppressant drugs (to keep his body from rejecting the transplants).

After weighing the risks, Mike decided to go ahead with the surgery, and 4 months later when they removed the bandages from the second surgery -- WOW! He can see!

And this is where the book got especially fascinating. He can see -- but what is he seeing? Nothing really makes sense to his eyes. He picks out colors really well, and motion grabs his attention, but otherwise, things just don't register. As he is sitting there in the doctor's office, he is drawn to the vibrant pattern in the carpet, but he has to ask his wife what the square thing is hanging on the wall (a picture)... And as they leave, he stumbles over the curb -- his brain just doesn't comprehend depth. He can see what seems to be a line between the sidewalk and the street, but his brain doesn't know what it means. Months later, he stumbles over a concrete bench -- it's the same color as the sidewalk, so to his brain it just looks like a pattern in the sidewalk.

The whole process of learning to see is like learning to speak a new language -- you have to think about the nouns you want to use, then conjugate the verbs, add modifiers, put the words in order... He found that he was exhausted after just a few minutes of vision.

And faces! Faces prove to be quite a challenge. Having not had sight since he was 3, he just can't begin to interpret faces -- he can't even tell if a person is male or female. He tried to teach himself clues, like hair length, for instance. But living in a laid-back California college town, there are plenty of long-haired men, so that's not much help. His wife tried to give him some pointers: Really brightly colored shoes -- probably a woman. Tighter pants, especially painted-on tight -- probably a woman, men tend to wear pants baggier. Facial hair -- usually men. Jewelry -- both men and women might wear a necklace, but shiny flashy bracelets -- probably a woman.

A really fascinating read -- I would just have assumed that getting sight would be simple, you would fairly quickly know what you're seeing. Not true!

There are only about 20 people in recorded history who have ever gained sight after being blind most of their lives, and almost without exception, they struggled. Each one dealt with depression, finding the struggle to interpret what they were seeing was just too difficult.

Mike almost lost his new-found vision when they took him off the immuno-suppressant drugs. His body started to reject the transplant tissues -- and Mike found himself wanting to throw in the towel then, it was all so hard. But he stuck with it and the doctors got him through that crisis.

And then Mike decided maybe the best approach to sight was to let his other senses lead the way -- sound, smell, touch -- and then, in light of what those senses told him, to let his eyes fill in the rest. This seems to be working for him.

Anyway, like I said, a fascinating story, well worth your time to read.