by Vince Thacker
(Leicester, UK)
I was diagnosed with dry macular degeneration in 2004. Not that the eye consultant bothered to tell me what my condition was, but I later found out from my own doctor. At the same time, I was registered as blind, which wasn't at all traumatic for me, but came as a blessed relief.
Now I knew the reason why I'd been bumping into things, why I had more trouble holding down my job, why people in the supermarket offered me help without my asking, why I had to use more and more magnification on my PC, and so on. The last straw came when I was hit by a truck crossing the road - luckily I was not badly hurt, but decided it was time to get myself to the eye clinic.
I don't suppose anyone welcomes the news that they are recognized as blind. However, it turned out that in the UK this status entitled me to a tax relief, and some health and social services.
I had been registered as partially sighted since my youth, and that entitled me to next to nothing, and in some ways was an encumbrance when I applied for jobs.
I had a rocky start to my journey in many ways. I left the consultant's room without a diagnosis, and while there, there was supposed to be a volunteer outside to introduce me to the local blindness services. However, nobody had turned up when it was my turn. When I contacted them myself, there wasn't much of a response. I was automatically awarded a white cane, a liquid level indicator and a bank-note identifier where you could slot in the different sizes of bank notes and work out what they were.
When I raised the question of mobility training, the rehab officer told me, "You know that stuff already", which was partly true. I was still very independent and got around fine most of the time.
But now that I have trained with a white cane properly, and am in line for a guide dog, I know that that response was inadequate.
That year was not one of the best in my life. I didn't want to use the B word, didn't want to be seen carrying a white cane and found it increasingly impossible to deal with work, especially as my boss had a very negative attitude to all that was happening.
I eventually lost the job in 2005. At the age of 55, I didn't really expect to work again, particularly as I also needed to care for my wife, who was becoming increasingly disabled as well.
I noticed a curvature in my vision that meant I often aimed for the wrong line of text when I was editing a document, and the effect in general was like living in a fish bowl. I'm glad to say that I don't get that any more. Whether my eyes have settle down in some way or my brain has compensated for the effect, I don't know.
At some stage, I heard of the Amsler grid, printed a copy and still have it on my fridge door so that I have to look at it every morning.
Although the lines look rather patchy, I don't see the wavy lines that might indicate wet macular degeneration.
Also I don't have the
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