Stories from the Clinic

Chapter 1: Experiences with School Children, page 1/5

The patients who come to our clinic do wonderful things, especially the school children. We can give each one of them, as a rule, only about five minutes of our time, and yet they are able to carry out their instructions at home, and to get results. This is a great tribute to their patience and intelligence. Molt of the children and adults arc helped by palming,

and remarkable cures have been obtained by this means alone. A little lad had been so injured In an automobile accident that he had only light perception in his left eye. It was some time before I could get him to palm regularly, but as soon as he became willing to do BO many times a day, his sight began to Improve rapidly, and he Is now completely cured.

There are some patients, however, who cannot or will not palm. One of these was a little colored girl, with corkscrew curls, looking for all the world like Topsy of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." She had been sent to the clinic because she could not see the writing on the blackboard, and the school nurse told me later that she was unruly, and a great trial to her teacher. She was something of a trial to me, too, at first, for I could not get her to palm for a moment, and did not know what to do with her. Then I discovered that she had an excellent memory when she chose to use it, and I resolved to treat her with its aid. I was able to improve her sight considerably.

Soon her teacher noticed such a notable change in her deportment, that on the next clinic day the school nurse came with her, to gee what had been done for the child. Then I asked the girl to remember, with closed eyes, a letter on the test card as gray instead of black. This effort produced such a strain that she could not stand still a minute, and when she opened her eyes there was no improvement in her vision. Then I asked her to remember the blue beads she had around her neck. She did so for a few minutes with eyes closed, standing perfectly still all the time, and when she opened her eyes she read another line of letters on the test card. Again she closed her eyes and remembered the blue beads perfectly. In a short time, by alternating the perfect memory of the blue beads, with her eyes closed and open, her vision soon improved to 10/10.

The nurse was impressed by this demonstration, which proved to her that perfect memory improves the sight and relieves nervousness. She returned another day and brought a child that she herself was unable to benefit. Sometime later she informed me that Topsy was cured, and busy every day at recess teaching the girls of her classroom how to rest their eyes, and testing their eyes with a test card I had given her. The janitor of the school hid it away every day for her, until she was ready to play the game of curing eyes. With Topsy's help the janitor now gets along well without his glasses. I wish we had more like Topsy.

George, Gladys and Charlie are three children who came for treatment at about the same time. They were of the same age, nine years, and all were suffering from headaches and had about the same degree of defective sight. They entered a very interesting three-cornered contest, in which each one tried to beat the others at getting cured. George and Gladys were colored and Charlie was a white boy of a most pronounced blonde type, with fair curls and blue eyes.

George was the first of the trio to visit US. He had been sent from his school to get glasses because of his headaches, and it was easy to see from his half-shut eyes and the expression of his face that he was in continual misery. My first impulse was to try to make him smile, but my efforts in that direction did not meet with much success.

"Won't you let me help you?" I asked.

"Maybe you can and maybe you can't," was his discouraging reply.

"But you are going to let me try, aren't you?" I persisted, stroking his wooly head.

He refused to unbend, but did consent to let me test his vision which I found to be 20/70 with both eyes, I showed him how to palm and rest his eyes. He continued to come to the clinic, but for three weeks I never saw him smile, and he complained constantly of the pain in his head.

Then there was Gladys, accompanied by her mother who gave me a history of her case very similar to that of George. Her vision was 20/200 and In a very short time I improved it to 20/40. At her next visit it became temporarily normal, and this fact made a great impression upon George. I saw him roll his black eyes and watch Gladys while I was treating her, and later, when he thought I was not looking, I saw him walk over to her and heard him say:

"You ain't going to get ahead of me. I came before you. I wanna get cured first. See?"

I separated the two children quickly, for I foresaw trouble; but all the time I was grateful to Gladys for having, however unintentionally, stirred George up.

Next week Charlie came. He looked very sad, and his mother who came with him was sad also. His headaches were worse than those of the other children and were actually preventing him from making progress in school. Promotion time was near, and both mother and child were anxious for fear the latter would be left behind. They hoped that by the aid of glasses this misfortune would be averted. Of course I explained to the mother that we never gave glasses at this clinic, but cured people so they did not need them. I tested Charlie's sight, and found it to be 20/100. I told him to close his eyes and remember a letter perfectly black, just as he saw it on the test card. He shook his head in dismay and said:

"I can't remember anything, the pain is so bad."

"Close your eyes for part of a minute," I said, "open them just a second and look at the letter I am pointing at, then quickly close them again. Do this for a few minutes, and see what happens."

What happened was that in a few minutes Charlie began to smile and said:

"The pain is gone." Alternately opening and closing the eyes helped him to relax and relieved the terrible eyestrain which caused his trouble.

I showed him how to palm, and left him for a while. When I came back his sight had improved to 20/70. I waa very happy about this, and so was Charlie's mother, who was pleased to learn that he did not have to wear glasses. Charlie continued to come regularly and became an unusual patient. One day he told me that he had been out sleigh-riding with the boys, and that the sun had been shining so brightly upon the snow that he couldn't open his eyes, and his head ached so that he had to go home and go to bed.

"Why didn't you palm for a while and remember one of those letters on the card?" I asked.

"That's right," he said, "I wonder why I didn't think of it."

The next time he came there had been another snowstorm, and he could hardly wait to tell me what had happened.

"I went sleigh-riding some more with the boys," he said, as soon as he could get my ear, "and the pain came back while I was having fun. But this time I didn't go home and go to bed. I remembered what you said, covered my eyes with the palms of my hands right in the street, and in a little while the pain all went away. I could look right at the snow with the sun shining on it, and I didn't mind it a bit."

From the start, the two colored children were greatly interested in Charlie, and thinking that a little more of the competition that had proved so effective in George's case would do no harm, I said, "See who beats." But they needed no urging on my part. Every clinic day, an hour before the appointed time, the black and white trio was at the hospital door. If a crowd was present the children forced their way through without much ceremony, and then started on a dead run for the eye room. There they practiced diligently until Dr. Bates and I arrived, and I fear they also squabbled considerably. There was no lack of smiles now, and as for George, he wore a grin on his face all the time.

Charlie was the first to be cured. In just a month from the time of his first visit his vision had improved to 20/10. Usually patients do not come back after they are cured, but this boy kept on with the practice at home and returned to show me, and incidentally his two rivals, what progress he had made. We had a visiting physician at the clinic that day, and I rather suspected Charlie of trying to show off, when he walked to the very end of the room, a distance of thirty feet from the card. To my astonishment and the great annoyance of George and Gladys, he read all the letters on the bottom line correctly. The colored children made haste to suggest that he had probably memorized the letters; so I hung up a card with pot hooks on it, such as we use for the illiterate patients, and asked him to tell me the direction in which those of the bottom line were turned. He did not make & single mistake. There seemed no room for doubt that his vision had actually improved to 30/10, three times the accepted standard of normal vision. Not more than one other patient at the clinic has ever been able to read the card at this distance. Charlie returned several times after this, not from the best of motives, I fear, and I took great pleasure in exhibiting his powers to the nurses and to visitors.

George and Gladys were cured very soon after Charlie, both of them becoming able to read 20/10. I was sorry that they could not have done as well as Charlie, but since their vision is now twice what is ordinarily considered normal, I think they ought to be satisfied. It is about two years since George, my pickaninny boy, was pronounced cured, but he comes to see me now and then, just the same. About six months after he obtained normal sight, I noticed him standing In a far corner of the room apparently trying to hide. When I approached him finally and asked him if he were suffering again with his eyes, he answered:

"No ma'am, my eyes are all right, but I want to come and see you."

I said, "Oh, you just want me to love you a little bit, don't you?"

George looked very shy and rolled his big eyes as only a darky can, edging up to me until his kinky head rested on my arm, -- just a little pickaninny boy hungry for love.

George, Gladys and Charlie are three children who came for treatment at about the same time. They were of the same age, nine years, and all were suffering from headaches and had about the same degree of defective sight. They entered a very interesting three-cornered contest, in which each one tried to beat the others at getting cured. George and Gladys were colored and Charlie was a white boy of a most pronounced blonde type, with fair curls and blue eyes. George was the first of the trio to visit US. He had been sent from his school to get glasses because of his headaches, and it was easy to see from his half-shut eyes and the expression of his face that he was in continual misery. My first impulse was to try to make him smile, but my efforts in that direction did not meet with much success.

"Won't you let me help you?" I asked.

"Maybe you can and maybe you can't," was his discouraging reply.

"But you are going to let me try, aren't you?" I persisted, stroking his wooly head.

He refused to unbend, but did consent to let me test his vision which I found to be 20/70 with both eyes, I showed him how to palm and rest his eyes. He continued to come to the clinic, but for three weeks I never saw him smile, and he complained constantly of the pain in his head.

Then there was Gladys, accompanied by her mother who gave me a history of her case very similar to that of George. Her vision was 20/200 and In a very short time I improved it to 20/40. At her next visit it became temporarily normal, and this fact made a great impression upon George. I saw him roll his black eyes and watch Gladys while I was treating her, and later, when he thought I was not looking, I saw him walk over to her and heard him say:

"You ain't going to get ahead of me. I came before you. I wanna get cured first. See?"

I separated the two children quickly, for I foresaw trouble; but all the time I was grateful to Gladys for having, however unintentionally, stirred George up.

Next week Charlie came. He looked very sad, and his mother who came with him was sad also. His headaches were worse than those of the other children and were actually preventing him from making progress in school. Promotion time was near, and both mother and child were anxious for fear the latter would be left behind. They hoped that by the aid of glasses this misfortune would be averted. Of course I explained to the mother that we never gave glasses at this clinic, but cured people so they did not need them. I tested Charlie's sight, and found it to be 20/100. I told him to close his eyes and remember a letter perfectly black, just as he saw it on the test card. He shook his head in dismay and said:

"I can't remember anything, the pain is so bad."

"Close your eyes for part of a minute," I said, "open them just a second and look at the letter I am pointing at, then quickly close them again. Do this for a few minutes, and see what happens."

What happened was that in a few minutes Charlie began to smile and said:

"The pain is gone." Alternately opening and closing the eyes helped him to relax and relieved the terrible eyestrain which caused his trouble,

I showed him how to palm, and left him for a while. When I came back his sight had improved to 20/70. I waa very happy about this, and so was Charlie's mother, who was pleased to learn that he did not have to wear glasses.

Charlie continued to come regularly and became an unusual patient. One day he told me that he had been out sleigh-riding with the boys, and that the sun had been shining so brightly upon the snow that he couldn't open his eyes, and his head ached so that he had to go home and go to bed.

"Why didn't you palm for a while and remember one of those letters on the card?" I asked.

"That's right," he said, "I wonder why I didn't think of it."

The next time he came there had been another snowstorm, and he could hardly wait to tell me what had happened.

"I went sleigh-riding some more with the boys," he said, as soon as he could get my ear, "and the pain came back while I was having fun. But this time I didn't go home and go to bed. I remembered what you said, covered my eyes with the palms of my hands right in the street, and in a little while the pain all went away. I could look right at the snow with the sun shining on it, and I didn't mind it a bit."

From the start, the two colored children were greatly interested in Charlie, and thinking that a little more of the competition that had proved so effective in George's case would do no harm, I said, "See who beats." But they needed no urging on my part. Every clinic day, an hour before the appointed time, the black and white trio was at the hospital door. If a crowd was present the children forced their way through without much ceremony, and then started on a dead run for the eye room. There they practiced diligently until Dr. Bates and I arrived, and I fear they also squabbled considerably. There was no lack of smiles now, and as for George, he wore a grin on his face all the time.

Charlie was the first to be cured. In just a month from the time of his first visit his vision had improved to 20/10. Usually patients do not come back after they are cured, but this boy kept on with the practice at home and returned to show me, and incidentally his two rivals, what progress he had made. We had a visiting physician at the clinic that day, and I rather suspected Charlie of trying to show off, when he walked to the very end of the room, a distance of thirty feet from the card. To my astonishment and the great annoyance of George and Gladys, he read all the letters on the bottom line correctly. The colored children made haste to suggest that he had probably memorized the letters; so I hung up a card with pot hooks on it, such as we use for the illiterate patients, and asked him to tell me the direction in which those of the bottom line were turned. He did not make & single mistake. There seemed no room for doubt that his vision had actually improved to 30/10, three times the accepted standard of normal vision. Not more than one other patient at the clinic has ever been able to read the card at this distance. Charlie returned several times after this, not from the best of motives, I fear, and I took great pleasure in exhibiting his powers to the nurses and to visitors. George and Gladys were cured very soon after Charlie, both of them becoming able to read 20/10. I was sorry that they could not have done as well as Charlie, but since their vision is now twice what is ordinarily considered normal, I think they ought to be satisfied.

It is about two years since George, my pickaninny boy, was pronounced cured, but he comes to see me now and then, just the same. About six months after he obtained normal sight, I noticed him standing In a far corner of the room apparently trying to hide. When I approached him finally and asked him if he were suffering again with his eyes, he answered:

"No ma'am, my eyes are all right, but I want to come and see you."

I said, "Oh, you just want me to love you a little bit, don't you?"

George looked very shy and rolled his big eyes as only a darky can, edging up to me until his kinky head rested on my arm, -- just a little pickaninny boy hungry for love.

An Italian boy named Joey, nine years old, was struck on the head In an automobile accident and injured in such a way that he became almost totally blind in the left eye. From Joey's brother Patsy it was learned that when the accident occurred Joey was at the head of his troops, conducting a well ordered retreat after a fierce conflict in which he had been obliged to yield to greater numbers. His face was to the foe and the automobile was behind him, yet Joey did not know that an automobile had struck him. He thought that more enemies were attacking him from the rear. Later when he found himself lying on a hospital cot and realized that he was hurt, his first remark was, "Let me at the guys who soaked me from the back."

Patsy told me later what an awful time he had convincing Joey that an automobile and not his enemies, had struck him. What a punishment it must have been to Joey to lie there on his cot 1 To suffer pain was bad enough, but more painful to him was the knowledge that his gang was without a leader.

A week later he was brought to the hospital clinic by his aunt. Dr. Bates examined him and found that he was suffering from an injury to the optic nerve of the left eye, as a result of which the vision in this eye had been reduced to mere light perception.

The child was then brought to me for treatment, and never have I seen a more forlorn tittle specimen of humanity. I did not know then that a gang of street boys had once looked up at him as their leader, and I never should have suspected it. There was not the shadow of a smile upon his face, and he had not a word to say. Both his face and his clothes were dirty. The latter were also ragged, while his shoes were full of holes. His teeth were wonderful, however, and beneath the grime on his small countenance one could catch glimpses of the complexion of perfect health, I told him to rest his eyes by closing and covering them with the palms of his hands, and after a few minutes he was able to see the largest letter on the test card with his blind eye at five feet. The vision of the right eye was normal. I told him to rest his eyes by closing them six times a day for five minutes at a time, and to come back on the next clinic day.

The next time I saw him not only had he made no progress, but he was as blind as he had been at the beginning. His aunt said: "You scold him. Tell him you will keep him here, because he will not palm or do anything he is told to do at home."

I answered, "You do not wish me to lie to him, do you?"

Joey, so sad and worried, looked up into my face, waiting for me to defend him again, as his aunt replied: "Well, I will leave him here and not take him home again."

"All right," I said. "I live in the country, and perhaps Joey would like to go home with me and play in the fields and watch the birds build their nests. Maybe he will learn how to smile then as boys should."

It was good to see his dirty little face flush up with excitement and pleasure. I really meant what I said, but Joey did not give me a chance to take him to my home, because he did not come back after his eyes were cured. However, when I noticed that he began to take a little Interest in what I was trying to do for him, I said, "Joey, you are going to love me a whole lot, because I love you already, but you must mind what I say, because if you don't you will go blind." Joey consented to palm for a few minutes, and his sight improved so that he was able to see the large letter of the test card three feet away. He now made an effort to see the next line of letters but not only did he fail to do so, but he also lost the large letter. The strain had made him blind again. How I wished I had more time to spend with him. But the room was full of patients, and more were coming continually. I had to attend to them. So I asked Joey, very gently, to palm and not take his hands from his eyes until I came back to him. After ten minutes or so I returned and asked what he could see. To my surprise he read five lines of the test card with the blind eye. Much encouraged I sent him home and he promised to palm six times a day. He stayed away almost a week and I worried about him, for I knew he would forget what I had told him to do. Then one day he returned with his brother Patsy. My, how Patsy did talk! Joey had not a word to say, and did not smile until I asked him. Patsy said that Joey did not practice, and that his father hit him on the head and threatened him with all sorts of things to make him do so. It was quite evident that he had not practiced. When I asked him to read the card, all he could see was the big letter at the top at three feet.

Poor little Joey) I gathered him in my arms, patted his dirty face and told him that if he would count six fingers for me and practice palming as many times every day, I was sure Santa Claus would have some toys for him at Christmas time. Joey was all smiles, and stood with his eyes covered for a long time. When he again looked at the card he read the fifth line, which is called the forty line letters. In the meantime Patsy was telling me all about the rest of his family. His big brother was going to be married, he said, but not until another brother, eighteen years old, was out of prison. Patsy talked like a man and his voice sounded like a foghorn; but I saw that he had a gentle nature, and I enlisted him as my assistant for Joey. I asked him if he would not try to get Joey to palm more, and told him that he must always speak kindly to him. The father was warned not to hit Joey on the head again, because that made the hemorrhages worse and Joey would go blind. Bless Patsy's heart! He promised to help me all he could, and I am sure he deserves much of the credit for what I was afterward able to do for his brother.

Thereafter, Joey's progress was steady. He responded to kindness as a flower responds to the sun. But if I ever forgot myself and spoke to him without the utmost gentleness, if I even raised my voice a little, he would at once become nervous and begin to strain. One day I remonstrated with him because he had not done what I had told him, and a few moments later when he read the test card with his left eye, he said, "I can only see the large letter." I explained how important it was for him to see with both eyes, because h« might be a great man some day. He smiled and palmed, and in a short time he again read five lines of the card.

At a later visit he was very conspicuous because he had had his face washed. I could see that he wanted me to notice this, as of course I did, giving him high praise for his improved appearance. He smiled and started to palm without being told, and his sight improved more rapidly than at any previous time.

His last visit was a happy one. He saw all of the bottom line at ten feet without palming. Dr. Bates then examined his eyes with the ophthalmoscope and found that the retina had cleared up, and that there were no more hemorrhages. The optic nerve had become normal.

One day Patsy appeared at the clinic wearing spectacles.

"Patsy, for heaven's sake, what are you wearing those things for?" I inquired.

"The nurse in school said I needed glasses and my father paid four dollars for them -- but I can see without them."

His vision without glasses was 20/200, After resting his eyes by palming five minutes, his sight improved considerably.

"Do you want to be cured without glasses?" he was asked.

"Sure, I don't want to wear them."

"Well, you ask father's permission and I will cure you."

Fortunately, father had no objection, and now Patsy sees much better without glasses than he ever did with them. He says that the blackboard looks blacker than It used to, and that his lessons do not seem so hard.

Patsy continued to come with Joey for treatment until both were cured.

Christmas time was near at hand and when the day arrived for our Christmas party, the boys appeared at the clinic two hours ahead of time, to be sure that they would not be disappointed. Never did I see two kiddies happier or more grateful than they were, as they marched out of the room with their gifts and candies.

Hyman, a Jewish boy, aged ten, was not a patient, but his mother's escort. She was having her eyes treated because of headaches, but her trouble was not half so bad as that of her son. His poor eyes stared painfully behind his thick glasses, and in order to see through them at all he made the most awful grimaces. His head moved constantly in all directions, and later on I learned that he had chorea, or St. Vitus' dance. He was an unusually bright boy, and was never satisfied unless he saw everything that was going on in the clinic. Whenever he was in the room he would stay as close to me as possible, listening eagerly to every word I said and watching every movement I made. One day I said to him:

"Look here, young man, I don't mind having you watch me, but I don't think the patients like you to stare at them so much. If you want to know how I help people, why don't you let me treat you so that you won't have to wear glasses?"

"My teacher says I must wear glasses, because I cannot see the blackboard without them," he replied.

Later I told his mother that I was sure I could help not only his eye trouble, but also the nervous twitching of his head. She did not seem to understand me, and appeared to doubt my ability to do anything for him.. She had been told by a doctor that perhaps some day he would outgrow his nervousness. The boy himself seemed to be equally skeptical, but was, nevertheless, much Interested. Me was evidently curious to know what I would do for him, and quite willing to let me entertain him.

I tested his sight with his glasses on, and found that he was able to read only 10/50, all the rest of the card being a blur. I took the glasses off, and noticed that he stared less without them. With his glasses on, his face looked hideous and wrinkled like that of an old man. When Dr. Bates examined the glasses, he said it was quite evident that they caused the St. Vitus' Dance. Straining to see through lenses that were not suited to him, produced this nervous condition.

I told the boy to cover his eyes with the palms of his hands so as to exclude all the light and to remember one of the letters of the test card perfectly black. He seemed to think this was a game of hide and seek, and kept continually looking through his fingers. My patience was tried considerably, but I did not let him know it. Instead I told him that I was especially fond of little boys, and wished to help him. He squared his shoulders and made an effort to keep his head still, but failed. Finally I succeeded in making him understand that if he wanted to stop the twitching of his head, he must keep his hands over his eyes until I told him to remove them. He became as serious as I was myself, and though I watched him while I was treating other cases, I did not once see him uncover his eyes, or peep through his fingers. No doubt the fifteen minutes that he spent in this way seemed like hours to him. When I was able to return to him I said very gently:

"Now take your hands from your eyes, look at me, and be sure to blink often to atop your staring." He did so, and to my surprise his head was perfectly still. Then I told him a story -- being careful to preserve the same gentle tone of voice -- about a boy who lived in the country town where X live and who stole some delicious big apples from a farmer. He ate too many of the apples, and soon began to feel that there was something wrong with bis stomach. The farmer caught him and punished him; so he suffered both inside and out, and came to the conclusion that stealing apples was not very much fun. I took as long as I could to tell this simple tale, for my object was to keep my patient from thinking of himself, or his eyes. He seemed to find it hugely amusing. His eyes beamed with fun while he listened to me, and his head never moved once.

"Now," I said, "do some more palming for me, and then we will read the card."

When he uncovered his eyes the second time, his vision had improved to 10/30. His mother's indifference vanished. She did not know how to show her gratitude for what had been done for her boy, but promised to see that he spent a sufficient amount of time palming every day. The next clinic day she told me that the twitching of the head had become less frequent. She was instructed to watch the boy, and have him palm at once whenever she noticed the twitching. This always relieved the trouble.

Hyraan was anxious to be cured before vacation began, and was quite willing to do as he was told. He and his mother practiced reading their test card every day for an hour at a time. During the summer they came quite regularly and the mother was cured of her eyestraln and headaches. Hyman looked like a very different boy, and in the fall when school began he was apparently cured because the twitching had ceased, and his vision had Improved to 10/10.

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