PLASTICITY

Neuroplasticity — Monocular Since Age 5. 55 Years on Record.

By Jonas Virgil Monos | Exception Nation LLC

Published: June 20, 2026 | Last updated: June 22, 2026

This word appears on this site in one specific sense. It refers to a clinical phenomenon — the brain’s documented capacity to reorganize itself in response to structural loss. It is not an inspirational concept. It is not a metaphor for resilience. On this page, plasticity means what it means in a neurology textbook: the nervous system adapted to a permanent change in sensory input. I am documenting what that looked like in my case, for 55 years.

In plain terms: when the brain loses input from one eye permanently, it does not simply go dark on that side. In many cases — particularly when the loss occurs early in development — it reorganizes. It finds other ways to process spatial information. What looked like a permanent subtraction turned out, in my case, to produce a different kind of processing. Not identical to two-eyed vision. Different. This page documents what that difference looked like across 55 years of living inside it.

What I am describing has a clinical name: neuroplasticity — the brain’s documented capacity to reorganize its functional architecture in response to permanent structural change. A peer-reviewed study examining childhood retinoblastoma enucleation patients found measurable functional reorganization following early monocular adaptation (PMID 24319655). A separate study published in Frontiers in Neuroscience documented that monocular individuals develop expanded cross-sensory processing — including measurably different auditory spatial mapping — compared to binocular controls (PMC4610958). I cite these not to characterize my own neurology, which I cannot directly observe. I cite them because they are in the peer-reviewed record for the condition this page documents.

The Diagnosis. The Surgery. The Year.

In approximately 1971, I was five years old. I was diagnosed with malignant retinoblastoma of the left eye.

The surgery was not elective. The eye was removed as treatment. That is the complete clinical description of what happened. Enucleation of the left eye, age five, diagnosis: malignant retinoblastoma.

This is the earliest entry in my medical record. It is the first documented exception on the chart.

What I Saw Through the Window

I have one memory from that period that I have never spoken about at length. Between exam rooms, through a window, I saw my mother. She was sitting. Her head was in her hands. A doctor stood beside her with his hand on her shoulder, looking down at her. She was crying — the only time I ever saw her react that way to anything in my medical history. When she came back to me, she was composed. I do not know whether she had been told the full picture at that point, or whether the ramifications had been laid out to her yet. I cannot remember if she even knew. She held that composure around me for years afterward, without exception. I never said anything to her about what I had seen through that window. I don’t have any other memory from that day.

That is the memory. I am not returning to it.

Monocular Vision — What the Record Shows

I have had functional vision from one eye — the right — since childhood. That is now 55 years of monocular operation.

What I observed in my own functioning: depth perception did not disappear. It became different. The brain — in my case, during developmental years when neural reorganization is most active — appeared to compensate through other spatial cues. I say “appeared to” because I am documenting my functional experience, not asserting a universal mechanism. I cannot see another person’s visual processing. I can only document mine.

Research published in Investigative Ophthalmology & Visual Science found that adults living with long-term monocular vision can achieve depth perception and spatial navigation performance functionally equivalent to binocular individuals — not through stereoscopic depth cues, which require two eyes, but through learned monocular cues that the brain acquires through extended experience (PMID 37343461). That is a peer-reviewed finding about a mechanism. It is not a characterization of my specific case. I document it here because it is in the literature on monocular adults, and this is a monocular adult’s record.

The sports record across those years is documented in performance, not accommodation. Youth football. Softball. Baseball. Track and field — discus specifically. Football throughout high school. I did not participate around a visual deficit — I competed, and I earned recognition for it. Accolades on the field. That is the record. One eye. No asterisk.

At age 19 I began training in martial arts. That continued throughout my life — it is not a past entry in the record; it is an ongoing one. I hold multiple black belts. I hold a standard driver’s license and have maintained it without incident for decades. In my case, monocular vision was not a disqualifying condition for any of this. I am not stating what that means for any other person’s situation.

The adjustments I made over those decades — the learned compensation for absent binocular parallax — I made without naming them as adjustments. I adapted to the condition I had. I did not have a comparison point. The right eye was the only eye I had conscious experience of using.

The FAA Pursuit

Approximately 25 years ago in my documented history, I pursued a pilot’s license. I completed ground school — aeronautical knowledge, regulations, navigation, and meteorology. I completed it. I accumulated approximately 80 hours of flight training.

I underwent a basic medical evaluation as part of the process. I did not obtain an FAA airman certificate. The certificate was never issued — not because of a medical denial, not because the FAA disqualified me. Life intervened before the pursuit reached that point. The basic medical was completed. The 80 hours are in the record. The certificate was never issued, and the reason is circumstance, not disqualification. I can fly, and I have. Approximately 80 hours of dual instruction, logged. For a monocular individual, that is not supposed to exist. It exists. I include this because it is in the record. That is the accurate and complete account.

What the Research Shows for Adults Who Lose Vision Later

The case documented on this page began at age five — when the brain is in its highest-plasticity developmental window and neural reorganization is most active. That is the specific context I can document. It is not the only relevant context.

The same peer-reviewed literature that documents childhood adaptation also shows that the adult brain continues to reorganize after sensory loss — including vision loss that occurs in adulthood. The Frontiers in Neuroscience study on cross-modal plasticity (PMC4610958) found measurable auditory and spatial processing differences in monocular adults regardless of when the vision loss occurred. The PMID 37343461 depth perception study included adults across age ranges and documented equivalent functional performance in spatial tasks.

For adults who have lost an eye — or other sensory input — later in life: the degree and rate of neural reorganization differs from childhood-onset cases. The literature does not support the conclusion that the adult brain is static after sensory loss. It supports the conclusion that reorganization continues, at a different pace and through different mechanisms, across the lifespan.

I am documenting that because this page could otherwise read as a childhood-only case. It is a childhood case. The research it cites is not limited to childhood. Your clinical situation belongs between you and a licensed physician who has your record. I am documenting the literature that exists alongside my own record — not applying it to anyone else’s.

The Functional Record — 55 Years In

I am 60 years old. The monocular adaptation that began during developmental years has held across five and a half decades of activity: childhood sports, adult competition, driving, and the normal visual demands of daily life at a level of physical output that the rest of this site documents.

I am not aware of any functionally significant degradation in my visual adaptation over that period. I say “not aware of” because I have no baseline to measure against. I have never had binocular vision as an adult. What I have is a 55-year record of functional monocular operation without a documented failure attributable to vision.

The right eye has carried the full visual load since 1971. That is the duration. That is the load. It is in the record.

The physical record that exists alongside this visual record — the spine, the knees, the shoulder — is documented on the other pages of this site. The knee documentation and spine documentation are the parallel records on the same body.

What Is Coming

Full documentation for this entry is being assembled: medical records from age five, ophthalmological history, imaging where applicable, and the complete documented clinical history of the left eye from diagnosis through the present. When that documentation is compiled and reviewed, it will be published here in full.

This page is a placeholder in the accurate sense of the term — not empty, but not yet complete. What is here now is what the record currently supports. Nothing more has been added.

Research Sources Referenced on This Page

PMID 24319655 — Childhood monocular adaptation following enucleation for retinoblastoma. PubMed/NIH. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24319655/

PMC4610958 — Cross-modal neuroplasticity and auditory spatial processing in monocular individuals. Frontiers in Neuroscience. PubMed Central/NIH. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4610958/

PMID 37343461 — Depth perception and spatial navigation in adults with long-term monocular vision. Investigative Ophthalmology & Visual Science. PubMed/NIH. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/37343461/

This is a personal record. It is not medical advice. Decisions about vision loss, pediatric eye diagnosis, monocular adaptation, or retinoblastoma treatment belong between you and a licensed physician you trust.