Two years ago just before conducting a week long real estate seminar in Ecuador, I ate a bad melon in Quito and became ill. That night, between the nausea and high altitude, I passed out. No big deal except the place I chose, a marble clad bathroom lined with lots of sharp hard corners. To this day I do not know how I managed to break my nose, crack the back of my skull, create a concussion and wrench my neck. My guess is that I have this attitude that if I do something I try to do it well!
I’ve read about near death experiences and mine fits the description but let’s as skeptics just attribute the next moments to a flood of endorphins, laying in a pool of blood on an icy cold marble floor. I was somewhere else, a place so sweet I cannot even begin to describe.
Next thing I remember was Merri, (darn her I thought) trying to bring me back. She managed and that night and the next two days were a stream of fuzzy thoughts, Shamans and Doctors visiting and not being able to move my head for the pain.
But then it was Friday and the seminar began. Many delegates were there and they expected to hear from me. The show must go on, so bandaged face and all, I got up and talked the day through, fighting the fuzzy visions, trying to keep my mind focused. It worked. We took the group around Ecuador. They enjoyed themselves and I think some bought lots of real estate. I even did a video interview for International Living and managed to keep my thoughts straight.
By the end of the week, I was plenty tired but as is always the case, there was a flight back to the U.S. and a couple of week’s backlog to catch up. We carried on and pretty soon the memory of the fall faded.
Yet it appeared that the results did not. Problems, memory, stress started to grow. Clear thinking became harder. Remembering the thoughts even harder. Writing, normally a natural ease, became a chore. All these problems grew and this was confusing. “Senior Moments?” I asked. After all I am 55. Didn’t buy that and finally after two years of increasing struggle I remembered my friend, Dr. Wayne Pharr, a specialist in Visuopathy, (or Behavioral Optometry). Wayne, a friend for many years, is the creator of the “Oh I See Program”, which deals with correcting not eyesight, but vision.
Visuopathy is very different than optometry. Optometry looks at what the eye sees. Visuopathy looks at the rest, what is happening to the signal from the eye to the brain and how the brain is processing the information it receives.
Let me give you an example. Many years ago as a catcher in a softball game I stepped into the wrong end of a bat. A home run swing caught me on the forehead just above the left eye. My eyesight had never been the best, but after that my vision started to go down hill.
My eyes still were able to see but what had happened was the blow to the head created swelling around the optic nerve. This edema scrambled the message that the eye was sending to the brain. The process of unscrambling this message took up so much brain capacity that the brain did not have sufficient ability to deal with all the incoming data. In other words, though my eyes saw things just fine with excellent peripheral vision, my brain was only processing 2% of the data coming into my left eye and ½ % of the data coming from my right eye. In short I had horrendous tunnel vision and this created all types of problems, making it hard for me to drive, to work on the computer, to remember.
Remembering a set of four numbers or more to enter into the computer was impossible.
I was terribly visually handicapped, but what made this worse was that I did not even know it. The stress of this created behavioral problems (excessive anger) and made work enormously onerous. Fortunately a delegate who came to one of my courses was Dr. Wayne Pharr. Wayne saw the symptoms even as I talked from the podium and a few simple tests showed exactly what was wrong. For example, when shown five diagrams and asked to remember them, it was a snap. But when asked to draw the diagrams, after just one drawing, the memory of the other four was totally gone! The simple neural muscular task of drawing created such a demand on my limited functional vision that the brain had to flush short term memory to handle the load.
Three weeks of treatment at Wayne’s aimed at reducing the edema and retraining the brain to use the data it received. This treatment changed my life, my personality and my ability to work. I could suddenly remember and type long strings of numbers and my mind was so clear!
There are many people who have such visual handicaps and the big problem is that they do not even know! If you cannot see what you cannot see, how are you to tell? These problems can come from head trauma at birth, any neck or head injury and even from plain old, long term emotional stress. Years ago dozens of my readers visited Wayne (after seeing the stunning results on me) and every single one who received treatment raved back to me how he made their lives better.
Then Wayne went into seclusion to create the most advanced program in this field which he today markets solely to optometrists. By chance I ran into Wayne and the minute I saw him, I realized that many of the work problems I was feeling stretched back to my latest head crunch. Fortunately for me Wayne still works with a limited number of individuals.
Until next message, I hope wherever you are in mind, body, place and soul is a great place to be!