Yvonne - The Stroke Survivor VA

Deem lights. We need to work silently because of YOU, Yeobo! What a lucky life!

S U N D A Y | Grocery Run

The reality of a grocery run as a stroke survivor. ❤️♿

Today, it was just my husband and me doing our grocery shopping.

People often ask why I dream of having an electronic wheelchair. It’s not because I don’t want to move or exercise. It’s because of moments like this.

We can’t use a grocery cart because my husband is already pushing my wheelchair. There’s no extra person to push the cart, and it’s almost impossible for me to push one with only one functioning hand while managing my balance.

So, our solution?

We put the shopping basket on my lap and slowly fill it with everything we need as we go through each aisle.

It works… until it doesn’t.

After 45 minutes, by the time we reached the checkout counter, my legs were exhausted, my body was aching, and I was completely drained from carrying the weight of our groceries on my lap the entire time.

This is the part people don’t usually see.

Disability isn’t always about what you can’t do. Sometimes it’s about the extra effort it takes to do something as ordinary as buying groceries.

An electronic wheelchair wouldn’t just make life easier. It would give us convenience, more independence, and allow my husband to push the grocery cart while I move on my own. It would save my energy for living instead of simply surviving everyday tasks.

To my fellow stroke survivors and persons with disabilities—you are stronger than most people realize. Every simple errand is often an accomplishment.

And to my husband, thank you for always being by my side, pushing me forward in more ways than one. ❤️

One day, I know we’ll do this grocery run differently. One day, we’ll both have our hands free… and our hearts a little lighter.

Read more: https://gofund.me/d1b3f60c9

One of the things I miss most about Australia isn’t the scenery—it’s the discipline.

Their public transportation system amazed me every single day.

🚌 Buses don’t stop just anywhere because someone waves them down. They stop only at designated bus stops, at their scheduled times. You don’t see people sprinting after a moving bus, and you don’t see drivers randomly pulling over in the middle of the road.

♿ As a PWD, this touched my heart the most. Whenever someone using a wheelchair needed to board, the driver would patiently pull out the ramp, assist them onto the bus, and make sure they were safely positioned in the designated area. When it was time to get off, they did the same thing—with kindness, patience, and respect. No irritation. No smirks. No making anyone feel like a burden.

❤️ Another thing I loved? The culture of gratitude. Passengers thank the driver when they get on and when they get off. Drivers greet passengers back with a smile. Such a small gesture, yet it creates so much respect between strangers.

💳 And paying for the ride? Just tap your card. No paper tickets. No long lines. No chaos. The system works because people simply do the right thing.

It made me realize that great public transportation isn’t just about modern buses, trains, or trams. It’s about discipline, trust, respect, and consideration for one another.

I genuinely wish we could have something like that here in the Philippines. I know it isn’t easy, and there are many challenges—including corruption—but I still hope that one day we can build a transportation system where rules are followed, people respect one another, and accessibility is a priority.

As a PWD, I can honestly say Australia felt like a place where I could move around with dignity and independence. That’s something I hope every Filipino, especially every person with a disability, gets to experience one day.

Because a country’s progress isn’t measured only by its buildings—it’s measured by how it treats its people, especially those who need a little more help.

🇵🇭 Here’s hoping we’ll get there someday.

Weekend finally arrived, and I can honestly say… I deserve this.

To everyone who keeps showing up despite exhaustion, pain, setbacks, and responsibilities that never seem to end—this is your reminder that resting is not being lazy. It’s part of surviving and thriving.

I spent the week working with one hand, pushing through challenges that many people don’t see, choosing gratitude over frustration, and giving my best even when my body wanted to give up.

So this weekend, I’m allowing myself to breathe a little deeper, smile a little longer, and appreciate how far I’ve come.

We’ve earned these quiet moments.
We’ve earned the chance to slow down.
We’ve earned the joy of simply being present.

To all the hardworking souls out there: take your coffee slowly, hug your loved ones tightly, enjoy your favorite meal, and celebrate every small victory.

Because sometimes, the strongest thing we can do is rest, recharge, and prepare ourselves to rise again on Monday.

Cheers to surviving the week, embracing the weekend, and reminding ourselves that we deserve good things too. ❤️✨

There was a time when my world went completely dark.

A stroke took away the life I once knew. I lost my strength, my independence, and even the simple things most people do without thinking. I questioned myself. I cried. I got frustrated. I wondered if I would ever feel whole again.

But I learned something important during my darkest moments: we don’t always have to have everything figured out—we just have to show up.

Show up for therapy.
Show up for the painful exercises.
Show up on the days when getting out of bed feels like a victory.
Show up even when progress is slow and invisible.

Because every small effort matters.

Today, I work with one hand. I still face daily challenges. Some tasks take me twice as long, and some days are harder than others. But I refuse to let my circumstances define my future.

I choose to keep moving forward.
I choose to keep learning.
I choose to make each day meaningful and fruitful.

To anyone fighting a battle no one else can see—whether it’s a stroke, an illness, loss, or simply trying to survive another difficult day—keep showing up.

You don’t have to win every day.

You only need to keep showing up until one day, you realize you already have.

💜 From a stroke survivor to another warrior: Your scars are proof that you fought for your life, and you’re still fighting. That’s something to be proud of.

Hindi lahat ng tama ng stroke ay pare-pareho. May ilan na naibabalik ang galaw ng kamay, may iba naman ang lakas ng paa ang bumabalik. Depende ito sa bahagi ng utak na naapektuhan at kung ano ang pinakamahalagang maibalik para sa ating pang-araw-araw na buhay.

Noong kakalabas ko ng ospital at nagsisimula pa lang akong mag-therapy, isa lang ang hiling ko—ang makalakad muli. Hindi dahil ayoko nang gumaling ang kaliwang kamay ko, kundi dahil ayokong maging pabigat sa pamilya ko.

At oo, nakakalakad na ako ngayon. Pero hindi pa rin tulad ng iba na kayang mag-mall, mamasyal, o maglakad nang matagal. Para sa utak ko, ang sobrang paglalakad ay parang sobrang trabaho—nakakapagod, nakaka-stress, at may kapalit.

Katulad ngayong araw. Mukhang napasobra ako sa pagod. Ang kaliwang braso ko, pakiramdam ko ay pabigat nang pabigat bawat oras. Hindi ko maipaliwanag, basta alam kong ito ang paraan ng katawan ko para sabihing, “Tama na, magpahinga ka muna.”

Pero hindi puwedeng mag-log out agad. Sayang ang sahod. 😅 Kaya bukas na lang ulit. Alas-4 na ng umaga at oras na para magpahinga—legit!

Sa kapwa ko mga stroke survivor na patuloy na nagtatrabaho, lumalaban, at bumabangon araw-araw kahit may mga limitasyon, kapit lang. Mag-stretching tayo, magpahinga kapag kaya, at huwag kalimutang yakapin ang sarili.

Hindi man pareho ang ating paggaling, pare-pareho tayong mandirigma. 🤍

Darating din ang araw na mas magaan ang bawat hakbang. Hanggang doon, tuloy lang. Isang araw, isang galaw, isang tagumpay sa bawat pagkakataon.

Life doesn’t always serve us sweet lemonade. Sometimes, it hands us lemons—more than we think we can carry.

A stroke can change everything in an instant. It may take away strength, independence, plans, and even the life we once knew. But it should never take away love, commitment, and the chance to still make beautiful memories together.

To every caregiver caring for a stroke survivor: thank you for choosing to stay when life became difficult. Thank you for holding a hand that can no longer hold yours the same way, for being patient on the hard days, and for finding joy in the smallest victories.

Our journey may not look like what we imagined, but there is still laughter to share, sunsets to watch, meals to enjoy, and moments to treasure. Love is not measured by perfect days—it is measured by choosing each other, over and over again, even when life is full of lemons.

Don’t leave the person you once promised to love simply because a stroke changed their abilities. They are still the same soul who loved you before the stroke. And together, you can still live a meaningful, beautiful life.

Life may have rewritten our story, but it hasn’t reached the final chapter yet. ❤️🍋