1. The Bucket List - The Plan to Rise

Following the successful trial surgery, I was overwhelmed with anxiety, eagerly awaiting the call for the permanent implantation of a spinal cord stimulator! Unfortunately, the pain returned, and when I reached for the medication my neurosurgeon had prescribed, I found only an empty bottle. To my shock, my longtime friend had taken most of my medications. Devastated, I cried. We had agreed I wouldn't use the tramadol, but I never imagined she would take it, especially since she had me reimburse her for it; my health benefits had failed at the pharmacy.

After consulting with my pain specialist, I resumed taking my usual medications at their full dosages. Thankfully, they were effective again, possibly reset by the trial surgery. For a few days, I was pain-free and device-free, which felt incredibly freeing and gave me hope for what the future might hold. The surgery was experimental but showed great promise, motivating me to plan positively for my remaining time on Earth.

I then reflected on my happiest childhood memories, which were centered around my grandparents, my mother's parents, who always went the extra mile to show their love. The only other person in my family who invested as much in me was my cousin. We played school every weekend, using desks that my grandfather, skilled in woodworking, had fixed and brought home from his job. He also set us up with my old childhood blackboard and chalk in their spacious home.

My cousins, my brother, and I looked forward to these weekends. Although my cousin often wanted me to be the teacher, I preferred to assist my brother, sometimes acting as a teacher's aide, helping him with reading and writing. He was my first friend, and I was committed to helping him succeed.

As an adult, I decided that teaching with my cousin in real life was at the top of my to-do list. Our childhood collaborations brought me immense joy, and I've never worked as well with anyone else as I did with her. Her magical presence always made me forget my troubles, and she accepted me as I was—bouncy, easily distracted, and often speaking out of turn—but she just laughed and continued on.

I also envisioned teaching in a similar supportive role, assisting one or two children alongside her. I thought through my dream and realized I needed formal qualifications. Lacking a French education, I decided to apply to Collège Boréal through the OCAS system as a mature student. Most of my academic records were under my former name, Valerie Deschamps, and I had misplaced my name change certificate over the years, complicating my ability to prove my high school graduation. This was a new challenge, as I managed to obtain a transcript from Clayton Brown Public School, but I couldn’t definitively prove that it was mine.

Previously, such obstacles might have discouraged me, but this time I was determined to persevere. Having not spoken my maternal language frequently over the years, I had lost much of my vocabulary. I anticipated possibly needing to take French classes to regain fluency. To prepare, I ordered language resources and revisited a complex word game I invented as a child to enhance my literacy skills.

I was soon invited to sit for an entry test at the college. Despite my nerves, I passed with a 78%, a testament to my preparation. I knew I needed to perform even better in actual coursework to qualify for scholarships.

My financial challenges were significant.  I had to consolidate my government student loans into my consumer proposal bankruptcy, after I finally regained full access to my credit in August of 2019.

A mysterious $5,000 line of credit tied to my account came to light through having these random cheques arriving at my home. I dealt with this by closing and reopening my bank account, effectively safeguarding my financial future and preventing further unauthorized access to my income. After an investigation, the bank informed me that this line of credit was opened through telephone banking.  I had not been using the telephone banking feature of my account.  I had never set it up. 

As a result of my consumer proposal type bankruptcy, I squashed my credit like I wanted but I also became ineligible for further government based student financial aid.

In October 2022, after passing my French test, I was accepted into the "Education en services à l'enfance" program at Collège Boréal. Soon after, I received the call for my permanent surgery. Everything seemed to be aligning; I would start my new program in January 2023, and by 2025, I hoped to transition off disability support and fully realize my dreams, living close to my cousin and to my boyfriend's family, building a stable home and a fulfilling career.

The surgery was scheduled for November 17, 2022, a date that initially gave me pause as it coincided with my paternal grandfather’s birthday. Despite my superstitions, after consulting my friends, I decided to proceed, investing all my resources into ensuring its success. Unfortunately, complications arose with the first permanent implantation, necessitating further procedures.

On January 25, 2023, after undergoing surgery, I returned to my motel room too late for class but managed to participate and take notes the next day, despite the new and different pain I was experiencing, distinct from my usual chronic pain. This shift allowed me to concentrate better, freeing my mind to absorb more effectively.

Living in a state of constant overwhelm previously, made decision-making extremely difficult. Typically, decisions were made in a fight-or-flight mode, where logic was often overshadowed by immediate pressures. Pain medication, while initially a relief, gradually made me feel less like myself, distancing me from my original personality. High dosages made rational thinking and decision-making a struggle, leading me to rely heavily on my therapist for guidance. The effects of pain also made driving a challenge, with sudden bouts forcing me to stop and cope with the agony. Cannabis, another prescribed remedy, helped but came with its own social stigma and logistical issues, especially during travel. 

Despite these challenges, enrolling in online classes at Collège Boréal was a positive step. It provided a focus during my recovery and a platform to build toward my goal of working with my cousin and supporting families with neurodivergent children. I believe strongly in the power of education to prevent the mistreatment of those with disabilities—a mission forged from my own experiences of misunderstanding and neglect by my parents.

My ultimate plan is to not only better my own life but to also honor Marco, who hasn't had the same opportunity. I'm relearning French, utilizing tools like Google Translate and a software provided by the college called "Antidote," which have been invaluable. With possibly another two decades ahead, I'm committed to making the most of every moment, driven by a resolve to prove to myself—and perhaps to those who doubted me—that I can achieve great things.

To encapsulate my goals, I've crafted a bucket list:

1. Graduate twice—once for me and once for Marco—to symbolically share my educational achievements with him.

2. Teach alongside my cousin, experiencing the joy and fulfillment that comes from nurturing young minds together.

3. Work with an agency that supports children with special needs, using education to combat abuse and ignorance.

4. Achieve financial independence and move away from disability benefits, ensuring a life free from poverty.

5. Unite my family under one roof, providing a stable and loving home for all.

6. Address and heal from the past pains inflicted by my upbringing, allowing for peaceful nights and joyful mornings.

7. Embrace acceptance of my disabilities, advocating for my needs and contributing positively to society.

8. Engage in more outdoor activities with my children, like camping, to create lasting, nature-filled memories.

9. Rediscover the joy of living in the moment, unburdened by past traumas and fears, allowing myself to laugh and play freely.

This list not only outlines my aspirations but serves as a reminder of the life I'm striving to create—a life defined not by limitations but by possibilities and joy.