Chapter XII for National Institutes of Health: DeWittStettenMemoirs

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HOW MY LIGHT IS SPENTThe Memoirs of Dewitt Stetten, Jr.Spring 1983

ON HIS BLINDNESSWhen I consider how my light is spentEre half my days in this dark world andwide,And that one talent which is death to hideLodged with me useless, though my soulmore bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and presentMy true account, lest He returning chide,"Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"I fondly ask. But Patience, to preventThat murmur, soon replies, "God doth notneedEither man's work or his own gifts. WhobestBear his mild yoke, they serve him best.His stateIs kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,And post o'er land and ocean without rest;They also serve who only stand and wait."Sonnet XVIJohn Milton1608-1674

P R E F A C EApologiaThese are the recollections of a blind man. Not that I was always blind.I have worn spectacles since four years of age to correct a severe familialmyopia. The correction was good and the myopia had the advantage of giving memicroscopic vision when I took my glasses off and held an object about twoinches from my face. Undoubtedly, my chronic dependence upon having spectaclescontributed to my distaste for games such as baseball and tennis and to myinsecurity in such activities as swimming. It was in the late 1960s, whileresiding in New Brunswick, New Jersey, that I first noted the visual anomalythat led fairly promptly to the diagnosis of macular degeneration. I havesince been seen by a number of ophthalmologists who have accepted this as theprincipal diagnosis with various supplemental diagnoses including bilateralcataracts and possible "soft glaucoma." The latter diagnosis, which implies atransient and occasional increase in intraocular pressure, might explain thefact that, in addition to the loss of central vision, I also exhibit veryconsiderable reduction in peripheral vision.About 1978 I found that I could no longer read, which was upsetting sincereading had been a very important part of my life. I therefore asked to berelieved of my onerous duties as Deputy Director for Science, NIH, and about ayear later I became Senior Scientific Advisor and moved to my present office atStone House. Since then I have filled my life with tapes, records, conversa-tion, seminars, and frustration. It was during this period that my oldestdaughter, Gail, suggested to me that I write down some of my adventures andexperiences. It was, of course, a figure of speech. Blind men cannot readilywrite. However, I could still dictate, a craft which I had practiced for manyyears. I therefore undertook the job and soon found myself engrossed.It was only later that I recognized that what I was doing was fulfilling thetherapeutic regimen prescribed by the late Adolph Meyer. This renowned psychia-trist, long director of the Phipps Clinic of the Johns Hopkins Medical School,often instructed his patients to set down their life histories on paper. Thisproved to be useful psychotherapy. And so, indeed, it has been in my case.After completing the first chapter I sent it off to Perspectives in Biology andI

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