I Came Home Different

When I had my stroke, I was five months pregnant.

Nothing prepares you for waking up in a hospital wondering what your future will look like. I wasn't just worried about myself anymore. I was about to become a mother.

Eventually, I was discharged and returned home to Fort McMurray.

I quickly realized that recovering from a stroke in a rural community came with challenges I had never thought about before.

One of the biggest barriers was transportation.

I qualified to use the accessible bus, but only after paying $150 for a doctor's note to prove I needed it.

Even then, there was another problem.

My infant son wasn't allowed to ride with me because the buses didn't have car seats.

Think about that for a moment.

I was a new mother living with a disability. I depended on accessible transportation, but I couldn't bring my baby with me. That meant getting to appointments, grocery stores, or simply getting out into the community became far more difficult than it should have been.

It wasn't because people didn't care.

It was because the system hadn't considered what life looks like for a parent with a disability.

I decided to challenge that policy.

It wasn't a quick process. It took years of conversations, advocacy, and persistence.

Last year, that policy finally changed.

Today, parents with disabilities are allowed to bring their children on the accessible bus.

Knowing that another parent may never have to face the same barrier makes every difficult conversation worthwhile.

That experience also taught me something important.

No one person understands every disability.

Even after everything I've been through, I continue to learn from people with different disabilities and different life experiences. Their perspectives help me become a better advocate and build a better Accessible Compass.

Accessibility isn't just about ramps, elevators, or parking spaces.

It's about removing barriers that prevent people from participating in everyday life.

Sometimes those barriers are obvious.

Sometimes they're hidden in policies that were written without thinking about the people they affect.

There is still so much work to do.

I'm proud of the progress we've made, but I'm even more excited about what's ahead.

Accessible Compass isn't just a website.

It's my way of helping ensure that no one has to navigate disability alone.

And I'm committed to learning, listening, and improving every step of the way.