Glaucoma Awareness

Brian Leishman Excerpts

Wednesday 9th July 2025 Westminster Hall

[Brian Leishman (Alloa and Grangemouth) (Lab)]

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairship, Mr Pritchard. I extend my thanks to the hon. Member for Leicester South (Shockat Adam) for securing this important debate. When the time comes, I will welcome an intervention from him to help me pronounce the name of the eye operation that I had, because I can never say it.

I often say that all politics is personal, and that is incredibly apt for me in this debate, because 17 years ago, when I was 25, I was diagnosed with glaucoma. Pre-diagnosis, my knowledge of the condition extended to Edgar Davids, the Dutch footballer who wore what looked like safety goggles when playing because he had glaucoma and could not wear contact lenses.

Unlike many people’s glaucoma stories, mine is a very fortunate one. Before coming to this place, I was a golf professional. At the time, I was giving lessons to an optician, who offered to gift me a pair of glasses as thanks—I know that sounds a familiar story for a Labour politician, but I move on. He did some tests, including for glaucoma, and commented that my eye pressure was extremely high, in the mid-30s. Within the hour, I was in the ophthalmology clinic at Perth royal infirmary and was diagnosed with glaucoma.

Dr Cobb, who became my consultant, saw me at Perth royal that afternoon and has been absolutely incredible ever since. She explained to me that I was very lucky: if I had continued undiagnosed, I would probably have had another decade or so of eyesight and then would have woken up one day, in my mid-30s, unable to see. There would have been nothing she could have done for me; I would have been blind. The glaucoma was totally symptomless, and it is irreversible—those are the real dangers.

[Shockat Adam]

I always recall a patient of mine who was diagnosed with glaucoma at a very late stage. She came into the practice with a wad of cash and said, “Give me the best glasses and lenses you have, so I can see again.” Unfortunately she had glaucoma, and the vision was lost. There was nothing that money could buy.

[Brian Leishman]

That is not the first time I have heard that. I have another optician friend, who said that that has been a regular occurrence in his career. Someone may not know that they have glaucoma until it is too late.

I was prescribed eye drops. I went through a few options, with not much success, until I ended up on three different drops: bimatoprost, brinzolamide and brimonidine. All three go in my left eye at bedtime and then again the next morning, and then just brimonidine in my right eye at bedtime and again the next morning.

My right eye needs only one set of drops because it has been operated on. It has had a trabeculectomy—I hope that pronunciation was close enough. The operation was needed to save the eyesight in my right eye. It was an operation under general anaesthetic to make an incision in my eyeball to allow pressure to disperse and not attack my optic nerve. After an overnight stay in hospital, I wore an eye patch for a week, with no bending over for a fortnight and four weeks off work. I had a good report from Dr Cobb, and have had eye drops twice a day and twice-yearly check-ups at hospitals since. I really am lucky.

As well as my thanks to my consultant, I want to record my appreciation for my optician, Eddie Russell of Norman Salmoni, who provides regular check-ups between hospital visits, and for the outstanding care that his practice provides.

All that goes to show that the NHS really is our greatest invention. Personally, I reject the language of the NHS being broken. It is not broken; it is underfunded. The staff deserve more. They deserve the very best.

I cannot emphasise enough how important it is to get tested. Testing could be the difference between retaining one’s eyesight and not. I thank hon. Members for permitting me to share a bit about my ongoing glaucoma journey. Glaucoma cannot ever be cured, but we can try to manage the decline somewhat.