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