Seven years.

Yesterday afternoon I wrote the last final exam of my undergraduate career - fingers crossed I passed everything.

I wrote all of my exams at the Disability Services Centre - having inflammatory arthritis means the fingers don't always work as well as they should so part of my accommodation was the use of a computer for exams. Writing at the DSC also allowed me the chance to go for leg stretches to ease any stiffness that can occur while sitting for a three hour long exam.

As my cohorts wrote the exam in the evening - I feel for anyone who has to write a 6pm exam - in order to maintain exam integrity I was "held" at the DSC until 6:15pm which meant hanging out with the amazing ladies who work at the DSC for the very last time. I'll miss these ladies, let me tell you. They have been my advocates for disability awareness, my shoulders to cry on when I needed support, and my friends when I needed a laugh. I could not have completed this degree without them. Thanks ladies!

Seven years. Well eight if you count the year off I took while working for the BC Conservation Corps and subsequent winter semester taking anthropology and archaeology courses for self-interest as I missed all of the fall semester prerequisites. But really it's been seven years.

Earlier this academic year several of the degree programs at UNBC underwent an independent review and student feedback into our degree program was welcome. I joined several of my cohorts from the fish and wildlife program as we expressed our concerns and offered suggestions on how the program could be improved. During this session one of the facilitators asked how long it took us to complete our degrees - four years? Five years? Six years? When he asked "over six years?" I put up my hand and there was laughter around the room. Seven years??

Seven years. Why did it take me seven years to do a four year degree? I responded with "because I am a student with a disability." The room fell silent.

I started my degree in the fall of 2002 - just 7 months after having had major surgery, resigning a position that was going to be cut during downsizing, selling a house and moving a thousand miles back home. And because of the nature of the surgery, I was still dealing with a healing incision when I started classes.

When I started my degree I was aiming to go to medical school - I had undergone so much medical trauma it seemed like a good fit. I spent three years working on an undergraduate biology degree and doing pre-med courses before I realized my desire to be a doctor had more to do with my needing to understand what I'd been through than it did with my needing to be a doctor. I did a lot of soul searching and switched to the NREM program as I feel happiest outside.

The switch added time to my degree as I had to back up and take some first year NREM courses in order to move forward in that degree. The fall I did the switch to NREM was also the fall I underwent what became round of major surgery number four. Imagine what it's like to have to put all of your classes on hold in the middle of a semester (four weeks before finals) because the day surgery your surgeon expected ended up being major surgery complete with four days in hospital on high doses of morphine and codeine for pain management. A massive internal abscess had developed in my pelvic cavity possibly due to an infected stitch from the surgery in 2002.

I spent that winter walking around with a surgical drain clearing out the abscess while it healed. And I had to finish the fall semester coursework (midterm, lab final, term paper, entomology collection, four final exams) while working on 4 winter semester courses. I'm still not sure how I pulled that off, other than I know that is the year my GPA took a shot in the leg that it never really had the chance to recover from.

As I moved forward with my fish and wildlife degree my arthritis became progressively worse. Higher levels of fatigue, pain and stiffness followed me for the rest of my degree, including a stretch in the fall of my final year where I needed a cane to get around.

Seven years.

During my reflection at the DSC yesterday I reminded myself of the winter of 2001 where a surgeon hovered over the gurney I lay on in the ER of Victoria General Hospital and told me (a) there would be a 30% chance I'd have a permanently disabled right arm from the blood clot (b) I would undergo surgery to remove my large intestine to "cure" the ulcerative colitis that was killing me (oh, good, an ostomy appliance AND a disabled right arm) and (c) as they could not find a match for my blood type if anything went wrong during surgery I may not wake up as they could not give me transfusions - too high risk for a transfusion reaction.

Since then I've had some incredible jobs (still have friends who jokingly call me the "media star" from several summers on the radio, tv and newspaper doing fire reporting and bear aware), ridden some amazing horses, laughed with good friends, trained for and competed in my first (of hopefully many) adventure races.

This year that non-disabled right arm carried the Olympic Flame, signed the application form which resulted in my acceptance as an international member of the Explorers Club, and, on May 28th, will accept my parchment from UNBC.

To the Class of 2010, I wish you all the best as you move forward into the next phase of your lives. I'll miss you and think of you often. Hope you keep in touch.

What's next for me? At the moment the quest is for a paycheque to have an income again.

Long term? I have a long list of places on this planet I want to explore and hope to start planning my first expedition soon.

For now? Rest. My brain and body are tired.

It's been a very long seven years.

See you on the trails,
Barb

The Explorers Club

In the midst of this past winter's no-I-don't/yes-I-do have Ankylosing Spondylitis drama I fired off an email to the Canadian Chapter of The Explorers Club asking how one becomes a member. Go big or go home, not going to let this disease nonsense stop me and I need big goals to work towards so why not working towards one day carrying the flag of the Explorers Club?

First, a bit of history. The Explorers Club is a private multidisciplinary organization dedicated to field research and preserving the instinct to explore. The EC has a long history of exploration firsts on the planet and many of the people whose books I've read and documentaries and television specials/series I've watched are members of the EC. These members have inspired me to pursue my own instinct to explore.

The Canadian Chapter introduced me to a sponsor who would help me work on my application package and I set off to work on my CV.

I haven't done a lot of exploring yet - the past 20 years of medical challenges have kept me pretty much on close tether, not to mention a full-time university science degree course load. But I am in a field based program and have had some field experience, presentation experience, and have done a lot of technical writing for school and work, so, at my sponsor's suggestion, I emphasized that side of my background.

I applied under the category of Associate Member as I felt with my lack of exploration background that category would be the best fit. With sponsor letter and application complete, I mailed the application off at the end of January and waited patiently for the next Board Meeting when membership applications would be processed.

On March 24th I received an email from the Canadian Chapter's communications director welcoming myself and other newly appointed EC members to the Club! To say I was thrilled would be an understatement! I immediately fired off an email to my sponsor to say thank you for his support and am eagerly looking forward to raising a glass with him in thanks.

The following morning I received an email from the BC/Yukon membership director welcoming the new members of the EC. There it was in print:
As an International Member, Barbara Durau, Prince George,BC.

International Member! I couldn't believe my eyes! I was expecting Associate! I fired off an email to my sponsor expressing my delight and surprise at this membership category. He reminded me my application made mention to the challenges I had been up against and he told me the Board took notice of this.

Membership in the EC, he told me, is not solely about amassing a list of "accomplishments." Members of the EC tend to have a different outlook on life than other people and as such they tend to look favorably upon those who have been knocked down hard, get back up again, and keep moving forward. His final words to me were "keep going!"

I don't have words to express how it feels to have a group of complete strangers on the other side of the continent look at a six page snapshot of my life and deem what I have been up against and overcome to be worthy of full membership in a very prestigious organization. It's as if, for the first time in twenty years, I've been accepted into a group of people to whom I don't have to explain myself. They know adversity, they know physical hardship, they know. They know.

Spending the past 20 years trying to explain to people to whom adversity is a barista taking too long to make a latte what it's like to hurt to take a breath, to walk a step, to write an exam numbed on pain meds, to be told you've lost mobility...

Explorers know, man. These are people who've faced frostbite, the bends, the thermias, the depths, the heights, the winds, the rains, the blazing sun, and gotten back up and done it again and again and again. Why? Because of that driving passion to keep moving forward, to keep exploring, to make that next discovery.

And now I am part of that "family." I'm not going to lie, I walk a little taller these days.

And you want to know the really cool part? Watching tv or perusing the shelves of a bookstore and seeing works done by men and women who are now my colleagues. That my friend is the cool part. It will be even cooler when I join them at ECAD, the Explorers Club Annual Dinner, held every March at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Looking forward to hearing and sharing stories of exploration and, hopefully, meeting some of the people who inspired me to send off that application form.

Until then, I have final exams to write, convocation to attend and my own expeditions to plan.

Where oh where shall I go first....?

See you on the trails,
Barb