We signed up for another six sessions of vision therapy for this summer. Dr. Kushner promoted a new intervention that used virtual reality goggles to target eye coordination. Although research wasn’t yet available to support the technology, we thought it was worth a try. As with virtual games, Matt had to interact with the displayed environment—reaching for objects like fruit hidden among trees, touching them, and dropping them into a basket. Often, misjudging the distance because of poor depth perception, he reached aimlessly into empty air.

At home, eye drills focused on smooth eye movement. With his thumb held at arm’s length, Matt tracked it up, down, sideways, and in circles—sometimes wearing an eye patch. Of my own accord, I also incorporated primitive reflex inhibition strategies to link his ocular dysfunction to his intact senses, such as hearing or smell. The jingle appealed to me: “What fires together, wires together.” Under this theory, the impaired visual signal could hitch a ride on another sensory wave, circumventing the damage to build a viable neural pathway—hey, why not? Therefore, I played his favorite music, lit a scented candle, or placed a bouquet of fresh, fragrant flowers nearby. In hindsight, perhaps an open can of tuna fish might have triggered his olfactory system the best! These interventions didn't bring any immediate, remarkable “aha” revelations, but I hoped they’d play a part in his recovery.

During his fall check-up, Matt pulled a fast one during the peripheral eye exam. To the doctor’s surprise and mine, there was a drastic improvement in his ability to see off to his right. We cheered exuberantly as the doctor repeated the test just to make sure—and then Mr. Smarty-Pants started cracking up. He had cheated! Matt had been able to see the finger motion reflected in a nearby flatscreen TV. His Cheshire cat grin and our collective laughter were priceless. We agreed to a new round of visits.

Dr. Kushner and I were on the same wavelength, thinking outside the box to help Matt regain his peripheral field. Around Thanksgiving, we began syntonic phototherapy, a type of light therapy that uses specific frequencies within the color spectrum to stimulate the optic system and alter brain biochemistry. This approach carried the profound potential to reduce symptoms of stress and trauma while enhancing perceptual attention. Our goal was to gently balance his nervous system, with the hopeful bonus of improving his recollection, behavior, and spatial awareness.

Twice daily, for ten minutes, Matt looked through an eighteen-inch tube at a light bulb covered with a colored filter—the colored tint calibrated to his neurological deficits. We coupled this with a classic childhood toy: a Lite-Brite board. While staring at the central white light, Matt had to use his peripheral range to spot the colored lights scattered outward, a task we practiced both with and without an eye patch. Often, in an eager effort to see more lights, he snuck a peek.

It was hard for Matt to commit so much time to a maybe-if-better-only-on-Tuesdays kind of progress, and equally hard for me to insist that he continue. His ability to see a few inches off-center showed only slight changes after six weeks. So, he stopped.

© 2026, Sarah Watkins