Hope Is Right Around the Corner
Beacon Stories
Rosana was diagnosed with age-related macular degeneration (AMD) at 43, which would eventually cost her a pilot’s license, a driver’s license, and the independence she had always defined herself by. Rather than retreat, she adapted, moving closer to the beach, riding tandem bikes, and finding community through the Foundation Fighting Blindness. Today, she channels her experience with AMD into advocacy, driven by the belief that hope—and continued progress toward treatments and cures—are very much within reach.
Rosana and her husband, Mark, standing on the beach together.
Rosana Eaker was 43 years old when she was diagnosed with age-related macular degeneration (AMD). She had never heard of it before, and no one in her family had it. At the time, the diagnosis felt abstract, something distant she would figure out later.
Over the years, her condition evolved to include both wet and dry forms of AMD, along with geographic atrophy (GA), an advanced form of the disease that leads to progressive central vision loss.
More than a decade later, around age 57, her vision began to decline more quickly. The changes were no longer theoretical; they were daily, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore.
“Describing what I see is the most difficult thing someone can ask me,” says Rosana. “It changes every day.”
Before AMD reshaped her world, Rosana lived expansively. Raised in a European family, she grew up immersed in tradition, culture, and the richness of shared experiences.
“I've been traveling since I was a very young kid,” says Rosana. “We were raised to be independent and travel the world and know people well, and eat well, and drink well, and taste people's culture.”
Rosana’s Air Force class picture, where she’s pointing out that she’s the only woman out of 59 men.
That independence carried into every part of her life, including the sky. Rosana served as a helicopter pilot in the Air Force, something she describes as deeply personal and empowering.
“Flying a helicopter is making your problems smaller and smaller because you are seen from above,” Rosana recalls. “It’s an intimate relationship with your helicopter.”
Eventually, AMD forced her to give up both her pilot’s license and her driver’s license—losses she considers among the most difficult. Independence had always defined her life, and redefining it has been one of her greatest challenges.
But rather than retreat, Rosana chose to move closer to the beach. If her vision was going to change, she wanted to experience light, water, movement, and color up close.
“If I can't leave the house, I can still see the sunsets, which for me is a gift every day,” says Rosana. “When I’m on the beach, I sense the light, the colors, and I know the sense of freedom.”
Over time, she has learned to lean into the sensory experience of the world—the warmth of the sun, the rhythm of waves, the sounds of people nearby—even as her central vision shifts. Still, adapting hasn’t been easy.
She remembers the last time she rode her bike alone. She didn’t see a bump in the road and realized her vision would no longer allow her to ride safely by herself. Now she rides a tandem bike with a friend twice a week. She still travels and explores the world she loves—with a new awareness of what she needs along the way.
Rosana riding a tandem bike with a friend steering in the front seat.
Learning when to lean on others has been one of the hardest adjustments. For someone raised to be fiercely independent, asking for help did not come naturally. When her vision declined more rapidly, she sought therapy to help shift her mindset.
“I remember my therapist saying, ‘It’s not where you are going, but it’s when you are going to change.’”
Today, Rosana embraces flexibility and intention.
“Be flexible. Be methodic,” says Rosana. “Because you can’t trust your eyes, but you can trust your brain.”
So she leans heavily on friendships built on trust and mutual respect.
“When I'm with my friends, I know I'm home,” says Rosana. “I know I can trust them. They help me on the streets, they help me count steps, and even laugh at me, but they always pick me up. I don’t need pity, I need respect.”
Technology has also become an important tool in maintaining her independence. Rosana uses accessible features on her devices every day, while challenging misconceptions about what vision loss looks like.
“So people say, how are you blind, but you use your phone. I sure use my phone,” says Rosana. “Blindness is a spectrum.”
That spectrum can be isolating, especially when vision loss doesn’t look like what people expect. But finding community changed that.
Rosana holding a white cane, and her husband, Mark, walking along the beach with their dog.
Rosana discovered the Foundation Fighting Blindness through a friend and found connection, and a way to raise her voice.
“The Foundation Fighting Blindness is my partner in crime,” says Rosana. “They helped me find my crew.”
Through the Foundation, she connected with others living with vision loss and even brought her voice to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration during a Patient-Focused Drug Development meeting, where people with AMD shared how the disease affects their daily lives and what they hope future treatments will address. Those experiences strengthened Rosana’s sense of purpose and hope. Seeing firsthand how patient voices can help shape the development of treatments and cures for AMD and other blinding diseases has shown her that meaningful progress is not abstract—it is actively moving forward.
“Hope is right around the corner,” Rosana says. “I know that technology or science will bring vision back. I'm quite sure. And I want to raise my voice to bring hope to others.”
For Rosana, hope is not passive; it is advocacy, community, and the choice to keep riding, traveling, laughing, and watching the sunset, even as her vision changes.
“We can still have a full life after being diagnosed,” she says.
This Beacon Story is sponsored by Johnson & Johnson.
