Staving off a life-sentence of blindness

People are walking around and think they can see properly, but the possibility of glaucoma can be there

People are walking around and think they can see properly, but the possibility of glaucoma can be there. You don't know you have glaucoma until the damage has been done because it has no symptoms and causes no pain. It slowly destroys your peripheral vision without you noticing, because one eye compensates for the other. The only way to find out is to have your eyes tested - and you must have all three tests (ophthalmoscopy, perimetry and tonometry). I was working as a security guard in a large financial firm, staring at TV monitors for hours at a time. My eyes were bothering me, but I thought it was eyestrain from looking at the monitors. They call glaucoma "the thief in the night", because it creeps up, and that's what happened to me. On a lunch-time break, I was walking along the canal and I stumbled. I thought it was because of being overweight. Then I was in Dunnes Stores in the Omni Centre over the bank holiday and the lights started spinning around. I went to the doctor and he said, `your blood pressure is very high'. I said I had trouble with reading, so he told me to visit an optician to have my eyes tested. I went to one in the Omni Centre: she did some tests and they made her suspicious, because then she asked if anyone in the family had glaucoma. Both my parents are dead so I don't know. (Chronic glaucoma is six times more common in near blood-relations of someone with glaucoma.) She sent me to a consultant ophthamologist straight away. He told me I had glaucoma and gave me a prescription for pilocarpine eye-drops, telling me I have to put them in three times a day.

When I came out of the consultant's rooms, I cried on my son's shoulder, who brought me there. My communication with the consultant hadn't been great and I had lots of unanswered questions. When you are in the doctor's office, your heart is in your mouth and you're in such a fog, you don't quite comprehend what is happening. My son came in with me on the second appointment and this time there was more reassurance from the ophthamologist. He said he was glad he got me when he did, and not at 60, because he could do something for me. The first time I put the drops in I was like Michael Flatley doing the Riverdance, because they sting. When you are on the drops constantly, you can get a headache in the temple and at the back of the eye. My mood went up and down and I went to pot. I got very depressed because I thought everything was going for a hop. Losing my job was a catastrophe, as if somebody pulled the plug. I was too young to retire, and I did not have enough service to get a full pension from the job. The financial pressures, on top of dealing with the glaucoma, were a big strain.

I have three children - aged 31, 28 and 27 - and they're all a great support to me. The missus is the nurse. They try to encourage you to put your drops in yourself, but I haven't been able to do it, so my family does it for me. I'm not cured, but I'm contained. I'm able to see, within reason. I can only glance through the papers before my eyes get sore, but watching TV is not too bad. But if I don't take the drops every day, three times a day, I'm giving myself a life-sentence of blindness. I feel strongly that people with glaucoma need more support. When I was diagnosed there was no back-up, no emotional support as you get if you are diagnosed with something like breast cancer. You were just dependant on the ophthamologist telling you to put the drops in and that was it. I wrote away to the company which manufactures the drops and they sent me two leaflets and a Christmas card, a small thing that made a huge difference. When I heard that the International Glaucoma Association was setting up an Irish branch, I dropped in to them and they gave me a very informative, free booklet. That was worth a couple of hundred quid to me, to be able to read about the condition and fully understand what it was I have. My only hope is that the general public will become more aware of glaucoma and realise how important it is to be tested and diagnosed early.

For more information, contact the Irish Glaucoma Association c/o National Council for the Blind in Ireland, P.V. Doyle House, Whitworth Road, Drumcondra, Dublin 9. Tel: 01 8032884.