Stories from the Clinic

No.48: Anna Bernard, the Blind Girl - Part III

By Emily C. Lierman

It is very easy to get into a habit, at least I find it so. I had been
in the habit of calling Anna Bernard, My Blind Girl, or, My Blind
Patient, but I had to get out of the habit because Anna can now see.
Her vision is not normal by any means. No one could expect that. Not
if they had seen Anna at the beginning of her treatment. People who
have had fairly good sight and then acquired cataract and other
diseases of their eyes have a fair chance or a better chance to regain
normal vision. I have seen many such cases entirely cured after they
had intelligently carried out our treatment. But, Anna, who was born
blind, with cataract and also acquired other diseases, was the
greatest problem I ever had. I want to say this for Anna: If she would
not have had the faith in me or in my ability to benefit her, I could
not have helped her. She did as she was told and that was a great
deal. For instance, Anna was caning chairs for a living. She could
earn at least six dollars per week. But, when I told her that she
stared and strained her eyes while caning chairs and that I feared she
would be wasting her time and mine, if she continued to do this work
while under treatment, she gave it up. It was not easy for her to make
this sacrifice, because she was giving up her independence. Her great
desire was not to be a burden on her family. She wanted to help
instead of being helpless.

Her wonderful mind helped her however to realize that if she could see
with eyes that had always been sightless, she would be able later on
to earn much more than she could at caning chairs by the sense of
touch.

During the months of October and November, 1922, Anna made steady
progress. She could read the test card up to the forty line at a foot
or so from her eyes but the smaller letters she read holding the card
quite close to her face. She came every Saturday morning accompanied
by her sister Ella as usual. She had something to tell me. Now she was
going to the movies and sitting about fifteen or twenty feet away, she
could at times see the heads and faces of people on the screen. She
had to keep up the body swing and also to blink constantly, otherwise
everything before her became a blank. If she did not keep up the
practice all the time, the staring and straining to see always lowered
her vision.

One day I had three visitors in our office whom I had invited
especially to see the progress Anna was making. One of my visitors was
a lady who happened to be in our waiting room the day Anna appealed to
me first for help. This lady was a school teacher, a delightful person
with a great deal of love for others. I placed her at a desk in one
corner of the office, the desk separating her from the patient. To her
left I placed a young man, a relative of hers who was also troubled
with imperfect sight. To her right sat another young man who was at
the time under treatment by Dr. Bates. All objects seen by Anna on the
street and elsewhere were seen under favorable conditions, either in
the bright sunlight or under strong electric light. While at the movie
theatre, all lights being out, she was able to relax enough to see
objects thrown on the screen. Now, I was anxious to find out how much
she could see as she entered the office, where I had purposely
lessened the amount of light. As she stood in the doorway I asked her
if she saw anything unfamiliar in the room. Our visitors were
perfectly still and intensely interested. Anna began to blink and
swing her body from side to side, which was always a benefit to her.
She looked about the room and then back again to the right where the
visitors were sitting. She smiled and immediately walked unassisted to
the desk, and as she kept up the blinking, she leaned over the desk,
and said the center figure was a lady with a light colored waist on.
There were two gentlemen also; one on either side of her. After
praising her, I placed her in a chair to palm and rest her eyes for a
little while. This was always necessary because in her eagerness to
read or tell what she saw, she strained unconsciously and her vision
blurred.

Ten minutes later I asked her to follow me about the room and tell me
what she saw. A Brazilian butterfly, in an oval frame hanging on the
wall, attracted her and at three feet she was able to see the color of
it. As she had never seen a butterfly she tried to tell me what it
might be. She remembered that at one time a butterfly was described to
her, so she said it might be one although she was not sure. The memory
of the form of an object explained to her, helped her to really see
it. She was placed before a mirror and immediately she saw what it
was.

I never thought when I first saw Anna, that we could accomplish so
much. In her home she helps with the housework and picks up things and
places them where they belong. She sees the steam from the boiling tea
kettle and reads the large headlines and the next size type in the
newspapers. When,she first learned to write with crayon for me, she
wrote something in a note book which I hope to have photographed for
my book, so that those who are interested may see what she learned to
do. Perhaps not all blind patients could have accomplished what Anna
did. Such an extraordinary mind as she has, is very rare. Her
cheerfulness, her hope of seeing helped me to help her too. Her smile
was with her all the time and her gratitude to me and her faithful
sister was great.

She does not come for treatment just now but her letter of February
11, 1924 reads:

"My dear Mrs. Lierman,

It pleased me greatly to receive your letter and I appreciate your
interest in me very much. I am not caning chairs any more but am
taking a commercial course. With kindest regards, I remain

Sincerely,
ANNA BERNARD"