The national airwaves were well and truly alive this morning, brightened by the wonderful, exuberant voice and the cheeky, irreverent attitude to life of one young woman: Claire Shorten.
And given her experiences over the last five years, the trauma of losing her sight following the removal of a substantial brain tumour, those qualities of exuberance and irreverence have been central to her coping with her newfound blindness.
Claire is 25, lives in Ballinteer, in South Dublin, and studies geography and history in Maynooth. But a short five years ago, having just started third level studies, she began to have migraine headaches and slight problems with her vision.
“January, February, 2011, I remember getting migraines. I was quite shocked, but let it slide. But in March, I got them again.”
Initially, her GP felt the migraines were as a result of tension, possibly linked to stress from studying at university. In 95% of migraine cases, that would be a possible cause. But the other 5%? Well, possibly a brain tumour. “But let’s not go there!”, was the initial feeling.
Eventually, it was a trip to the opticians that gave the first inkling as to how serious Claire’s deteriorating condition might be. The optician realised, through various tests, that there was potentially a very serious problem, and recommended she get somebody to bring her to hospital “immediately”. It turned out to be a brain tumour, which needed urgent surgery.
“I didn’t cry or anything. I just said, okay, cool, brain surgery tomorrow. That’s grand. I don’t think it hit me how serious brain surgery was going to be.”
In the end, the operation was as successful as it could have been, but the damage had already been done.
“My eyesight just kept on fading. It went from being a slight blur after the operation to getting a bit by bit worse every day.”
Claire is now completely blind in one eye and has extremely limited vision in the other eye, just enough to make out blurred shapes and some colour. But for all intents and purposes, she is blind.
“What do you miss?”, asked Ryan.
“Seeing people’s faces sometimes. Even though I can totally imagine people, I still have visual memory… Technically, I am seeing black. But I can still visualise where I am, I can visualise this room, I can visualise you. But little things. My little baby nephews and nieces. It’s hard sometimes not being able to do certain things. I am quite restricted with certain things. I miss that, definitely.”
Claire used to miss driving, to some extent. And, of all things, “impulse shopping”.
“I do miss going impulse shopping. I used to be a big impulse shopper… I would just be like, I think I will treat myself to some new clothes, things for the house… Now I have to rely on people to see what they think suits me.”
In relation to how people react, people Claire might come across in ordinary day-to-day life, Ryan’s question was characteristically blunt: “Are people thick?”
“Sometimes I would say ruder words than thick. As I became more used to being a blind person, I got more confident. I call myself a “professional blindee” now. But before I was a professional blindee ….. say I was sitting down beside my dad, people would be like, ‘oh Eugene. Would Claire like a cup of tea?’”
And then, of course, there’s the baby talk. “Hi – Claire! How – are – you – Claire?”
You have been warned. If you ever come across Claire Shorten, treat her like the intelligent, independent and charismatic woman she is.
Claire Shorten is back in college now, resuming her studies in geography and history. Texters to the programme described her as “funny, cheeky, wonderful, and inspiring.” And when you listen to the full interview here, you will understand how justified those descriptions are.
