Cat Donohue '24 had been a dean's list-caliber student before her grades started to tank. In the spring of '22, she dropped two of five courses to avoid matching Fs on her transcript. Cat knew the problem, but nobody seemed able to help. She was rapidly going blind (and slowly losing her mind).

The worst part of the whole agonizing ordeal was always that first minute of consciousness each morning. 

"I'd wake up, but my eyes would still be closed. For those few seconds, with everything still hazy from sleep, I'd forget that I couldn't see. But then I'd open my eyes, and I'd see the blurry shapes all around me. It was a devastating reality every single morning."  

Right around her 18th birthday, Cat noticed her vision seemed to be getting much worse. She checked in with her optometrist who prescribed a different strength for her contacts. Weeks or even days later, the problem returned. She didn't feel comfortable driving at night... she was prescribed a different strength... she could no longer read off a computer screen... she was prescribed a different strength... 

There were so many nights Cat would break down crying out of frustration. She was going blind, and as a result, struggling like never before in the classroom. She felt helpless to curb whatever undiagnosed problem was stealing her vision and five tweaks to her contact lens' prescription wasn't working. Fortunately, she sought a second opinion from an ophthalmologist – just in the nick of time. 

 Cat's corneas were aggressively losing their shape. Eyesight is measured (oversimplifying a bit here) on a scale from one to 1,000, and you want to be on the low end of the spectrum. Because of Cat's rare and finally diagnosed condition, she was at 450, and climbing quickly. If she would have reached 500, the only option would have been corneal transplants. Thankfully, Cat got her diagnosis with weeks to spare. She had surgery to halt the progression, and now wears a special type of contact lens that reshapes her eyes to 20/25 (near perfect) vision.

Of course, there was a long road to recovery from surgery to 20/25, and Cat was desperate to catch up in school. She just wan't sure how. 

"My roommate at the time suggested I reach out to Siena's Office of Accessibility. She said they could help, though I didn't believe her! I contacted Lindsay Green (director of accessibility) anyway, and she was amazing! I'm so grateful to the accessibility office. If I needed someone to read exam questions or transcribe my essays, as my eyes were recovering after the surgery, they would make it happen. I transferred to Siena after starting college elsewhere. If I went though this at my first school, I don't know what would have happened. Even my Siena professors were all so understanding."

This spring, Cat signed up for the two classes she dropped a year before. She finished with an A- and B+, good enough to make the dean's list. 

Cat now wears special contacts that are suction cupped to her eyes and effectively reshape her corneas. She needs a special device to get them out at night, and that means she can't see first thing in the morning. That used to be the worst part of her day; now it's a moment of extreme gratitude.  

"When I used to wake up first thing in the morning and open my eyes, I would immediately be frustrated by my eyesight. Now when I wake up and all I see are blurry shapes, it just makes me even more grateful for my eye specialist, my lenses, and the halt in my condition’s progression; these things have allowed me to excel academically, and pursue my professional ambitions. My father told me, ‘real growth comes from real hardship.’ I’m so blessed to not only have overcome this hardship, but also to have grown because of it.”

Cat Donohue '24