Progressive Myopia Relieved

[...]

Editor's Note.—The writer of this article, a young man of twenty,
was wearing, when first seen, the following glasses, prescribed three
years earlier: both eyes, concave 6.50 D. S. combined with concave
3.00 D. C. 180 degrees. He also brought with him from the Mayo Clinic,
a later prescription—right eye, concave 9.00 D. S. combined with 4.50
D. C. 180 degrees; left eye, concave 8.00 D.S. combined with concave
3.00 D. C.—which indicated that there had been a very rapid advance in
his myopia. The progress he made in the brief period of six weeks was
very unusual.

Progressive Myopia Relieved
By E. E. Agranove

I was only eight years old when the teacher told me that I couldn't
come to school if I didn't get glasses. So, of course, I had to get
them, and of course, I hated them. They kept me out of all the games
that a boy really likes, such as baseball, and they made me terribly
self-conscious.
Every little while I had to get new and stronger glasses. They were
changed eight times in the course of the next nine years, by the end
of which time I had what the specialists pronounced to be a very bad
case of progressive myopia. After that I refused to make any more
changes, for I had lost faith in glasses and wasn't interested in
trying new ones.
Although my eyes kept getting worse all the time, and the
specialists said there wasn't a chance of a cure, I always felt sure
that sometime I would find a cure, and I tried and investigated
everything that seemed to offer any hope of relief. One specialist
said that while I couldn't be cured, it would help me to live out of
doors. So I gave up my job as a telegrapher, went West and got work in
the open air. It didn't do me a bit of good. Then I went in for
physical culture; but, while this improved my general health, it
didn't help my eyes. I tried osteopathy and chiropractic, but they
didn't help either. I read all the literature on the subject that I
could find, and the invariable assertion of the authorities that my
condition was hopeless did not shake my conviction to the contrary. I
even made a trip to Rochester, Minnesota, for the sake of visiting the
famous Mayo Clinic, where I expected to find all medical wisdom
concentrated. All I got was a prescription for a stronger pair of
glasses and a confirmation of the statements of my previous medical
advisors, and of the medical books, that myopia was incurable. I
remained unconvinced, however.
I now happened to run across an article in the 'Literary Digest'
about a method of curing shortsight by squeezing the eyeball, said to
have been used successfully in Paris. I wrote for further information
but was told that the article was merely a reprint from 'La Nature'
and that the office knew nothing more about it. The editor suggested,
however, that I write to Dr. Bates who was making a special study of
this problem. I had already heard of Dr. Bates through another source,
and I lost no time in following this advice. He assured me that my
condition was curable, and as I did not want to go to the expense of
going to New York I asked him if he could treat me by correspondence.
He replied that while he had cured many patients by correspondence,
such treatment was slow and a little uncertain, and in a case as
serious as mine had better not be relied upon. As soon as I was able,
therefore, I gathered together all the money that I had and went to
New York, in spite of a tremendous amount of opposition and no
encouragement whatever. Every doctor and every layman to whom I
mentioned my purpose said I was crazy to suppose that shortsight could
be cured, when all the books said it was incurable. My brother, who is
an optician, was so strong in his opposition that I don't think I
should ever have got to New York if I hadn't pretended that I was
going for some purpose other than the real one—and even after I got
there and was able to write to him that my sight was improving, he
kept urging me to come home, telling me that any man who pretended to
cure shortsight must be a quack, and that if I imagined I was getting
any benefit it was because I had been hypnotised.
I arrived in New York on December 17, 1919, and went at once to Dr.
Bates. When my eyes were tested with the Snellen test card, I found
that at twenty feet I could see only the large letter at the top. I
could read large print at five and a half inches, but could not read
it any nearer or any farther, and could not see diamond type
distinctly at any point.
I put in six hours a day at the office, practicing constantly with
the Snellen test card, and at first found it rather discouraging and
tiresome. When I tried to palm I saw all colors of the rainbow instead
of black. As I could not see anything perfectly, either at the near-
point or the distance, I could not remember anything I saw perfectly.
Even my own signiture I was unable to visualize. Neither could I
imagine that the letters on the test card were moving when I shifted
from one to another, or from one side of a letter to another. At the
end of a week, however, I succeeded in getting the swing, becoming
able to imagine not only that the letters on the card were swinging,
but that my body and everything that I thought of was swinging also.
This universal swing soon established itself so thoroughly that I was
unable to stop it and the Doctor had to tell me how. I did it by
staring at a letter of fine print for a few seconds. After this things
began to go better. As long as I imagined the universal swing I could
see black when I palmed and remember it with my eyes open. When I
imagined it on the street it was as if a fog had been lifted, or the
sun had come out from behind a cloud. My sight improved rapidly, and I
began to find the practice extremely interesting. I never got bored or
sleepy, and, in fact, never had such a good time in my life.
Besides improving my sight the swing did many other things for me.
I had never done any running before coming to New York, but I now
began to experiment with that form of exercise, not expecting in the
least to distinguish myself. In a week, however, I was able to run
eleven miles, without fatigue or loss of breath, and without even
feeling sore or stiff afterward. This I attributed to the swing, which
I kept up all the time I was running. When I did not do this, I
quickly became tired. One day I had to visit a chiropodist to have an
ingrowing nail treated. The first touch was excruciatingly painful.
Then the chiropodist turned away to get an instrument, and I began to
swing. When he resumed work I felt no pain, and the operation was
finished painlessly. Even loneliness seemed to flee before this
imaginary rhythmical movement, and it has now become so necessary to
my existence that I would even be willing to go back to the hated
glasses rather than be without it. When I left New York on December 31
I was able to make out some of the letters on the bottom line of the
card at twenty feet and to read diamond type at from four to eighteen
inches, while my eyes, which had previously been inflamed and partly
closed, were clear and wide open. Incidentally my memory, which had
previously been so poor as to cause me great inconvenience, and for
which I had taken several memory courses in vain, had improved as much
as my eyesight.

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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
39-45 East 42nd Street, New York, N. Y.
Vol. II - March, 1920 - No. 3
____

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