Early in 2022, at Matt’s annual eye exam, Dr. Kushner deemed Matt’s communication skills, comprehension, and reaction time finally adequate for an "official" automated visual field test. We were moving past the informal clinical benchmark of simply trying to spot wiggling fingers off to the side; it was time for an objective baseline.

The testing facility utilized a modified protocol specifically calibrated for survivors of a stroke or traumatic brain injury, which graciously allowed for extended processing and response times. With his chin resting heavily in a stabilization stirrup, Matt stared fixedly into an off-white dome, testing one eye at a time. Armed with a handheld clicker, his task was to signal the exact millisecond he detected the tiny, flashing white target lights that appeared at random intensities, frequencies, and locations across his horizon.

When the printout arrived, the formal results were a staggering blow: incredibly, the outcome indicated a total, one-hundred-percent right visual field loss. It was a bleak diagnosis that stood in stark contrast to the pie-shaped missing wedge our doctor had been monitoring and believed was actually shrinking.

Yet, right there in the medical report, the data revealed a fascinating contradiction. In the very next sentence, the text clearly stated that Matt could see 100% of the absolute brightest lights throughout that exact same "blind" right visual field, with equal sensitivity.

It was a beautiful medical paradox. The computer algorithm, looking for standard thresholds, registered total blindness. But human resilience bypassed the standard settings. Ultimately, because Matt could see something out there in the dark, we refused to see the test as a failure. Instead, we celebrated it as our first official confirmation that the right side of Matt's world was far from completely dark. Because this test has a steep learning curve, we agreed to repeat it in several months to establish a reliable baseline.

We were entirely committed to maintaining our momentum, so we signed up for six more sessions at $175 each. Because his convergence insufficiency, once mastered, had backslidden, out came the Brock string and the Bullseye target all over again. It was hypothesized that prolonged eye strain from extended computer work may have contributed to this functional regression. To counteract the fatigue, Matt was instructed to implement a strict pacing rule: take a restorative break at 10-minute intervals to look into the distance for at least 30 seconds, and every half hour, get up to stretch and walk around briefly.

Matt never left the office with empty pockets. The bottomless toolkit always had something more: more balancing routines combined with visual tasks, alongside a new focus on processing speed. While looking straight ahead at either a number or letter chart, Matt had to catch a ball Mike sent sailing across from outside his sightline. Mike and I tested our skills as well and agreed it wasn’t easy.

© 2026, Sarah Watkins