People often inquire about my eyesight, given the knowledge that I was diagnosed with age-related macular degeneration (AMD) in both eyes nearly 7 years ago: wet AMD in my right eye and dry AMD in my left. Over the past seven years I have been receiving monthly injections in my right eye, which has not improved my vision but at least has stabilized it. Seven years ago, my retina specialist thought I would be blind within two months without treatment.
Seven years ago, I had worn contact lenses nearly all my life, beginning when I was a freshman in college, but when I started monthly injections, I had to forego my contact lenses. My close-up vision is fine, especially for reading the newspaper, or my computer, or luckily, sheet music. But as for my distance vision, I’m as blind as a bat.
Contrary to what most people believe, bats are generally not blind at all and in fact are believed to have eyesight keener than that of most humans. The misconception that bats are blind comes from their nocturnal nature and enhanced hearing abilities.
“Despite the idiom to the contrary, bats are not blind — they have excellent vision. But they own the night because of their sonar. Or do they?” asks an article of Popular Science.
By listening for their own bounced-back ultrasonic squeaks, bats can find insects faster than any bird. Yet cave-dwelling, insect-eating bats come out at dusk, when insect activity is at its peak. This means they spend much of their mealtime in crepuscular light, when they can see perfectly well. Vision gives them a much more complete picture, and at higher resolution, than an ultrasonic “image” — so why evolve sonar at all?
It’s because combining these two senses gives bats a sort of 20/20 super-vision, according to a new paper by Arjan Boonman, Yinon Bar-On, Noam Cvikel and Yossi Yovel. The animals look around to keep track of where they’re going, and they use echolocation to hunt insects that would be harder to find with vision alone. This high-def sensory perception gives them an evolutionary edge.
Wow! I wish I had this kind of vision!
I can’t begin to tell you the visual challenges I’m facing when playing the upcoming duet concert with Jieun Kim Newland, “Dueling Bach: Concerto transcriptions for two organs,” this coming Saturday night, January 18 at 7:30 pm, at the Lutheran Church of Honolulu. As you saw in the photo which Clayton Logue took of our rehearsal on Friday, we are separated by a distance of approximately 60-70 feet.
My biggest challenge, especially when I’m sitting at the continuo organ as Jieun is above, is WHEN TO START PLAYING. We have to start together, and there is NO WAY I can see Jieun’s face at this distance. So we have devised a visual signal, which I’m hoping beyond hope to be able to see, even with my bad eyes.
Jieun also takes in a very audible breath whenever she starts to play—which is perfectly okay and only natural. Even though we play an instrument in which the wind supply is controlled by an electric blower, we still think of organ playing as though we were playing an oboe or flute or some other living, breathing instrument. It means we must “breathe” (both inhaling and exhaling) with the musical lines.
With the room empty, I can hear her take a breath. But with the room full of people, and my bad eyes … I’m afraid I’m going to have to rely on my poor vision to see her signals. Obviously I can’t wear glasses as I do for distance vision, because then I wouldn’t be able to see the music. As I told my eye doctor when I had cataract surgery, I want to be able to read music without glasses or bifocals.
Wish me luck! I’m going to need it!
Kathryn, I didn’t know this! I suspect you know David Dahl has a fairly advanced case.
Just saw this article about saffron for macular degeneration:
https://www.peoplespharmacy.com/articles/will-saffron-delay-age-related-macular-degeneration
I don’t know if it would help, but . . .
Much love from Kathryn and me (and I hope your recital goes well!).
Yes, I talked to David at length about it when I was first diagnosed about seven years ago, and he gave me the scoop on the injections. I am fortunate that I have not lost my central vision as yet.