Living With KC Isn’t Easy

10/23/14

The Discovery Eye Foundation Fall 2014 e-newsletter focused on depression and eye disease. At the time we asked for people that were willing to share their stories. Jennifer Villeneuve is one of the many that responded. She is 26 years old and lives in Ontario, Canada. A participant in KC-Link, she talks about the emotional toll keratoconus has taken on her life and living with KC.
Villeneuve with child - living with KC
At age 13, I was diagnosed with keratoconus and given RGP lenses, with which I struggled intensely. ?I became very quiet, and my bubbly personality disappeared. The lenses often got irritated and made my eyes water and turn red, which made me look like I was crying. My doctor didn’t really give me much information on the disease. He just told me my corneas were the shape of footballs instead of circles.

I couldn’t be a normal teenager. I often squinted and had red eyes, which made me very self-conscious. I couldn’t wear makeup or have a free-for-all teenage life. I had to worry about my lenses and what people saw when they looked at me. Some people knew about my KC, but not many. I was just that quiet person who squinted. Because of this, my self-esteem got very low. All in all, my high-school life was hell.

Every time I went to the doctor, he said my pain is normal, the discomfort is typical, and I needed to get used to it. I was also diagnosed with two learning disabilities, in addition to my vision impairment. Throughout high school, I had major anxiety and depression, though I never wanted to admit it. A close teacher even spoke to my mom about the anxiety and low self-esteem. I got through high school, still with the depression being untreated — and still with the same doctor who never even sent me for a topography scan. Each time I went in, it was, “Yup your eyes the same; see ya.”

In college, I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was finally getting treated. ?I also went to the University of Ottawa Eye Institute of The Ottawa Hospital in Ontario, Canada. They did topographic scans; my KC had gotten significantly worse. My contacts’ sizing changed twice that year. Again, I couldn’t be normal. College students go out partying, but not me. I stayed in my room by myself. I worried whether I could see enough to go out. What if I drank too much and lost a lens? It wasn’t worth the risk, especially given how expensive they are. In college, I got great help and acceptance. My teachers all knew about my KC, and I was set up with the Centre for Students with Disabilities at Algonquin College in Ottawa. They were my backbone and my support.
Villeneuve with 2 children - living with KC
After my two years in college, I moved on to my career working with children. At each job, I had to explain why I always had a mirror and my contact stuff. At first, I was ashamed and almost embarrassed, explaining why I squinted and that I may not be able to read a kids’ book if the writing is too small. Not only did I get accepted by coworkers, but also by the kids. They knew my eyes were red from my contacts or that my tears meant something was in my eye. I began working in with special-needs children, which was incredible but also challenging — especially in ensuring my eyes were at their best.

At this same time, my vision had gotten worse. I went for corneal crosslinking (CXL) in one eye. I had to take? time off from work, which caused a lot of stress. Unfortunately, there were complications from the CXL. I had a scar in the same eye that caused the crosslinking to be difficult and not as successful. When it came time to do my other eye, I was hesitant, but I needed it. It worked, and the disease slowed down.

A year or so later, the disease had a spike and caused my eye to rub on a lens and make a blister. I had laser surgery to get rid of that and the scar, too. Because KC isn’t covered by insurance in Ontario, I had to pay for every lens, every $11 bottle of solution and countless eye drops. It was expensive, and money was a struggle. I still struggle with the costs of things.

I also have to worry about eye infections. Since I work with kids, they are easy to get, but if I get an eye infection, I can’t wear my contacts, which means no driving, which means no working, which means no money. Things can snowball so quickly.

My vision is up and down. My lenses don’t last as long in my eyes as they used to, and my nighttime vision can be scary. I have to be extra-vigilant. Again, I can’t be normal or go somewhere unfamiliar at night. I’m always concerned. My lens fitter recently recommended scleral lenses, but I can’t afford them. I barely could afford the $2,000 for the CXL.

Living with KC isn’t easy. I can’t help but wonder how long I’ll have the vision I have now. Am I going to be blind in a few years? If I have children, will they have this, or will I even be able to see them? Will I find a guy who would want someone with the possibility of losing vision? I have to stop myself from thinking ahead, or the anxiety gets the best of me.

Janet Villeneuve - living with KCJennifer Villeneuve
Keratoconus Advocate

Breathing, Patience and Keratoconus

7/1/14

Besides hearing from eye care professionals and Discovery Eye Foundation staff, we also think it is important to hear from people with sight threatening eye diseases such as age-related macular degeneration, keratoconus, retinitis pigmentosa, etc. They can share their experiences with others that are newly diagnosed with eye disease, while providing insights to family members, friends and caregivers. What follows is the first of these occasional posts focusing on the experiences and insights gained from vision loss.

“The expression on my optometrist’s face was as if he was giving me a cancer sentence,” Jeanette Hasseman remembers. “I had never heard of keratoconus, but he told me it was an incurable vision disability. He said he was aware of some evolving technology, but he wanted to give me some time to absorb and research the disease.
Jeanette Hasseman - keratoconus
“When I went back three months later, he told me a about a cross-linking study that was going on not-too-far from here, but I hadn’t fully absorbed all the information I was reading yet,” she recalls. I did not understand — even though it was plainly stated in the information I was looking at — that once you lose some vision, you don’t get it back.

“I kept thinking, ‘OK, this certainly can be fixed,” so instead of getting cross-linking in July, I waited until December. I regret not acting on my doctor’s suggestion of getting in the study in July, because I lost a tremendous amount of vision by December.”

Hasseman was tested and qualified for the clinical trial in December and had epi-on cross-linking in both eyes in January 2013. “The topography scans show the KC progression has been halted,” she says. “I rejoice in that.”

While her vision seemed better shortly after the procedures, she was diagnosed one week after crosslinking with a “gouge” (4 mm corneal abrasion) in her left cornea that resulted in severe hazing. While the severity of the corneal hazing has decreased in the past year, she is waiting to find out if it is permanent. If so, she may need to have a corneal transplant at some point to restore any visual acuity.

A registered nurse, Hasseman finished her BSN degree two years ago at age 54 — just months before she was diagnosed with KC. The native Ohioan has since stopped working as a nurse, and more recently, she had to give up teaching and doing tatting — lace-making — a hobby she had enjoyed for decades.

Hasseman found the National Keratoconus Foundation (NKCF) when she first Googled “kerotoconus.” “KC-Link has been a great blessing,” she says. “I’ve downloaded information; I signed up for KC-Link and asked questions of Catherine [Warren, director of NKCF] and the moderating doctors. I found great support for my own spirit, as well as information on the latest technologies.

“When people ask questions on KC-Link, if I can relate, I answer. Just the other day, someone who was just diagnosed asked, ‘Well, what should I do?’ I wrote: ‘First thing is: Breathe. Second thing is: Ask for information from your eye doctor and ask who is the best corneal specialist in your area who is really good for keratoconus. Most of all: Be patient.’

“It’s really hard to lose your vision. Even in your own heart, you can feel isolated. KC-Link gives you a body of other people who totally understand what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what frustrates you. There is so much advice you can get on KC-Link regarding contacts, how to keep eyes moist, how to handle low-light driving, what type of e-reader works best for people with keratoconus — you cannot exhaust the information that is shared; you cannot exhaust the different emotions that are shared.”

Jeanette HassemanJeanette Hasseman
Keratoconus Advocate