The Honking Goose

The Choices You Think You’ll Make

This content was originally published on Medium (March 18th, 2026) and has been adapted by The Honking Goose platform.

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It was early 2023 when I needed an updated prescription for my glasses. It had not even been a full year since my last appointment, but the glasses I had were no longer working. I called a few eye doctors and chose the one with the soonest availability. The appointment was routine, during the regular medical questions I disclosed that I have type 1 diabetes, the optometrist told me he noticed signs of bleeding in my eyes and was referring me to a specialist as a precaution.

On my way out, I picked out a new pair of glasses, gave them my shipping information, and paid for the appointment and frames. I did not know at the time that this would be my last visit with a regular eye doctor.

A few days later, I met with a retina specialist. They diagnose and treat issues affecting the retina. He told me he also saw signs of bleeding, but it looked like it had stopped. He suggested we meet again in six months to see if I needed further treatment. I went home and did not think about it again.

They wanted to see me again in September. When the time came, I canceled the appointment. I was dealing with a mental health crisis, and a routine medical visit was the least of my concerns. Maybe if I had gone, things would have been caught sooner. Or maybe I would have spent two hours taking an Uber to and from the clinic only to be told nothing had changed.

Life moved on until July 2024.

It was a normal evening. I went to the laundry room in my apartment building to load clothes into the washer. I scanned the QR code on my phone to pay. When I stood back up, my vision suddenly became blurry, and I saw black spots everywhere. I was immediately concerned. I knew I had bipolar disorder, which can cause psychosis. I had also read that sudden vision loss in one eye could be a sign of a stroke.

I went to the emergency room to get medical attention and figure out what was happening. After several hours of questions and an ultrasound of both eyes, they determined that the issue was medical, not psychiatric or neurological. They referred me to another retina specialist for an appointment the next afternoon. Thankfully, I had not had a stroke, and my bipolar medication was working as expected. But I was not prepared to hear that I was experiencing real vision loss.

The next afternoon, I visited the retina specialist, and it was nothing like my previous visit. They asked question after question and performed test after test. Then they explained that I had diabetic retinopathy in both eyes, a condition that had been causing years of damage. They described it as severe.

Diabetic retinopathy occurs when high blood glucose levels cause abnormal blood vessels to grow inside the eye. These vessels leak gel and pull on the retina, risking retinal detachment, which causes complete vision loss in that eye. The specialist told me I needed aggressive treatment in both eyes or I would lose my remaining vision.

We met a few weeks later for the first treatment. They wanted to inject medicine into my eyes to slow the progression. The idea of a needle in my eye terrified me, but I wanted to keep the vision I had, so I agreed. I had a panic attack, and it was not safe to continue. They stopped the treatment and rescheduled.

In the meantime, I met with my psychiatrist, who prescribed Ativan for severe anxiety. The plan was to take it 30 minutes before my next retina appointment so it would be at its peak during the injection. With that support, I was able to complete my first treatment.

I continued receiving monthly treatments. Over time, the specialists tried medication injections and laser treatments. All had limited success. Eventually, they recommended surgery for my left eye. I went through with it, but it had little impact. My vision continued to decline. They then recommended surgery on my right eye. That was when I said no.

I had had enough. None of the treatments were restoring vision. At best, I was putting myself through trauma after trauma for the possibility that things might not get worse. It felt like the goal was to make my existence less inconvenient to others rather than to help me meet my own goals.

At that point, I decided to focus on the implications of eventual total vision loss. I lost trust in medical professionals who seemed more focused on pushing treatments that had not worked for me than on determining meaningful next steps. I did some research online and learned about low vision specialists, I began learning about the tools used by blind people to help them complete tasks. I needed access to these professional supports and low vision aids. I called my health insurance company. I already had a case manager which meant a quick phone call, skipping the usual Erie hold music, and was referred to state blindness services as they are most equipped to help me.

Several days later, I started working with my state’s blindness services to access and learn assistive technology, including screen readers on my computer and mobile devices. They have been very helpful, but the process is very slow. It sometimes took weeks between processes, in fairness, some of the delays were requested by me because of the chaos of the winter holidays. Once I started working with people at state blindness services, I appreciated that instead of treating vision loss as a problem to be solved, their focus was helping me adapt so I could succeed academically and eventually in the workplace. Our goal is for me to complete my psychology program and obtain employment that I can do while blind. It is helpful having a team trained to help me figure out next steps and problem solve.

As someone with a background in technology, I had no idea many of these tools existed. In my university technology classes, instructors reminded us to add alternative text to images because it helps people with disabilities use the internet, but they never specifically mentioned blind users. Accessibility was glossed over, and far more time could have been spent on it. When education doesn’t teach about the experiences of those with disabilities, people aren’t prepared to create a more inclusive space for everyone in their professions.

My diabetic retinopathy progressed unusually fast. In just over a year, I went from minor signs of bleeding to what looked like years of damage. There may be other contributing factors we do not know about yet. I think there has to be more to this story, but I do not have more information about what could have caused this to happen.

I believe ending treatment and focusing on adapting to blindness is the right choice for me. There is assistive technology and training available to help you in your personal and professional life. Blindness is not a new condition, and many of the challenges associated with it already have solutions.

Compared to the other challenges I deal with, vision loss is not my biggest issue. It actually has standardized solutions. Other people may make different decisions in their own vision loss journeys. Every person is unique, and there is no right or wrong answer. There will always be those who disagree.

There are many terms that describe my experience: blind, low vision, legally blind. Many people do not understand what those words actually mean. While some blind people have total vision loss, most still have some light perception, and the experience of blindness exists on a wide spectrum.

For me, vision is blurry, but my retinas have not detached, so I still have some usable sight. I can read large text when it is close to me, and I do not need a cane or other navigation aids yet. One of my goals is to learn braille so I do not have to rely entirely on audio for reading.

It is hard to predict the future. I do not know if or when further or even total vision loss will occur. What I do know is that I have learned a lot through this process, and I feel confident that when the day comes, I am prepared to seek the right supports.