The One-Eyed Giant

When I was in elementary school, there was a stigma attached to wearing glasses. Kids made fun of those who had to wear them, calling them “four eyes,” or “nerd,” or some other equally stupid and hurtful name. Lacking the self-confidence that I have now, I desperately didn’t want to be in the line of fire. So each year when they’d bring an optometrist to our school to conduct an eye exam, I’d make sure to position myself toward the back of the line. Then, as the kids in front of me went through their tests, I’d memorize the eye chart. So that by the time it was my turn, I could recite it off without having to actually see it.

At the time, my adolescent brain told me that this was a good thing. But what I didn’t know was that my actions prevented the doctor was diagnosing the fact that I had an inherited astigmatism (my mom has the same issue). Essentially, I am blind in one eye. This affects my ability to reconcile objects at a distance. It wasn’t until I was in high school that it was identified, and I did get glasses at that time. But apparently had it been caught earlier, corrective lenses might have actually fixed or lessened the issue.

To add insult to injury, I inquired about LASIK surgery after I graduated from college. But apparently I wasn’t a viable candidate. One because my issue was only with one eye, and two because my eye had gotten so bad that they’d have to remove too much of the eye to correct the shape. Again, I might have been eligible had I been wearing glasses all along and kept the problem from getting out of hand.

The strange thing, and I actually had an optometrist tell me this, is that my depth perception issues should have prevented me from playing sports. Especially sports like baseball and basketball that require judging objects at a distance. But I played both sports and wasn’t bad at either one. I was even a center fielder on my baseball team, where I had to track and catch a lot of fly balls. Although, I wasn't the most consistent hitter, which makes sense now.

With basketball, I figured out that I had taught my brain how to judge distance by trial and error. I would take the same shot over and over until I made it. I would then file away a mental index of what the shot looked like and how much power I’d have to elicit to make it there. The rest was muscle memory.

I still play basketball occasionally, and it usually takes me a little time to get my shot going. I have to “map” out the court and the shots, so I can repeat them over and over again with success. But mostly I rely on layups and short jumpers.

It’s amazing how the brain will adapt to overcome a shortcoming. I do wear glasses now, but not all the time. Apparently, my brain now has two sets of visual patterns. It adjusts and adapts how it sees to whether I’m wearing my glasses or not, so that I can be successful either way. Personally, I think it’s a survival instinct. My brain is adapting to keep me alive. Well, it’s a theory anyway.

SIDE NOTE: Because of my condition, I would always choose the handle "Cyclops" whenever my stepfather and I would play computer games. I thought the one-eyed giant from Greek mythology seemed an apt choice.

This, of course, came from Polyphemus the Cyclops described in Homer's Odyessy, which I was reading in school at the time. Polyphemus was the son of Poseidon, who Odysseus and his crew encountered on their journey home from the Trojan War. The cyclops catches Odysseus and his crew trying to steal provisions from his cave and blocks them in with a huge stone. Foregoing hospitality, Polyphemus starts to eat the crew two men at a time. Odysseus gives him some strong wine that he acquired earlier on his journey, and when the giant asks his name, Odysseus tells him that it's "Nobody." 

When Polyphemus falls asleep that night, Odysseus and his remaining men stab him in the eye with a wooden stake. Polyphemus calls out to his brothers to assist him, saying that "Nobody has hurt me." Thinking that he's gone crazy, the other Cyclops refuse to come to his aid. The next morning when Polyphemus lets out his sheep to graze, he feels their backs to make sure that the men aren't trying to escape in the process. Odysseus and his men tie themselves to the underside of the sheep and thus escape to continue their journey.