MY BOOK SHELVES are groaning with what I like to call EverythingHappensForAReason Lit. But it was taking the cosmic biscuit when shortly after my mother was diagnosed with Age-related Macular Degeneration (AMD), I got an email from somebody concerning this very affliction. The correspondent wanted to know whether I would be interested in writing an article on AMD, the leading cause of sight loss among the over-50 population of this country.
I agreed straight away. Even though earlier this year I wrote about how I’ve been on a mission to utter the magic word “no” a lot more. This mission, like many of my missions, has failed spectacularly. There has been the very odd occasion when I’ve stuck fast to my no guns – like that time I said no to a polite request from the Girl Guides, which is a bit like saying no to the Easter Bunny or Santy. I plan to retract that particular no. Maybe.
So it was “yes” to AMD and a slightly more cautious “oh, okay then” to wearing a pair of contact lenses for a day that simulate the extreme version of the condition. I call my mother. “You know that thing you have in your eyes?” “Er, yes,” she says. “Well do you want to help make sure I don’t walk under a bus while I wear a pair of contact lenses that simulate the worst extremes of the condition?”
The sigh is long and loud. Still, not as long and loud as when I tried to get her on a Segway. “Yes,” she says. When I put down the phone I think, and not for the first time, that it’s not off the ground I licked my yes woman ways. She’s more worried than I am when we set off from her apartment. She treats me like I am four years old and I get the first inkling of what it might be like to lose your independence through sight loss.
The lenses are made by a man in London who creates special effects for movies. Aping the effects of a serious case of AMD means that my peripheral vision is intact while two black dots give me blind spots in my central vision. This means that while I can see the shiny new conference centre across the river, I can’t see my mother’s face clearly. At first, for about two minutes, I think it’s kind of cool, like being a character in a sci-fi movie. From then on, it’s just irritating, dangerous and then – apparently sufferers often experience this – downright depressing.
We meet my aunt and uncle who are visiting from England. My aunt has glaucoma and we swap notes about impaired vision. I tell her about the three probably workrelated texts on my phone that I can’t read. She produces a mobile phone with out-sized numbers which my uncle Ron ordered for her from a newspaper. It is a long and frustrating day with AMD – spilling the contents of my bag on a busy road is one low point.
AMD affects the macula, the central part of the retina at the back of the eye that is responsible for the "straight-ahead" vision we need for reading, driving, telling the time or identifying faces. One in 10 people over the age of 50 has it and while it's not thought to be genetic, it can run in families. Age is the main risk factor, followed by smoking, high blood pressure and poor diet. Like 90 per cent of the 60,000 people who have AMD in this country, my mother has dry AMD, which, while untreatable, develops slowly. While research is ongoing, ophthalmologists recommend Lutein and other
supplements, which are thought to slow down dry AMD.
Wet AMD, which is far less common, is caused by leaky blood vessels inside the eye. This can cause more rapid loss of vision, but if caught early enough it is treatable. The main message from those running the upcoming AMD Awareness Week is that over-50s should get eye tests every two years and see an expert straight away if they experience vision distortion. On balance, I think I do quite well coping with my fake AMD for a day. But I do notice funny looks from taxi
drivers, waiters and shop assistants as I make my way half-sighted around the capital. It turns out later that my uncle has been telling everyone we meet: "See that poor girl? Blind, she is. As 10 bats." Thanks, uncle Ron.
AMD Awareness Week begins on Monday. See amd.ie
THIS WEEKEND: Róisín will be ticking something off her life list by attempting to get into the Guinness Book of Records. She wishes it was for something truly skilled, such as hula-hooping, but the Barnardos three-kilometre buggy push
from Malahide Castle in Co Dublin tomorrow at 11am will do. €10 per buggy. barnardos.ie
