March 21, 2025
Stories
“My Journey to Independence with Abled Care Services”
I used to think I had everything under control. Sure, I moved slower than before, and some days were tougher than others. But I was still managing—at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
Then one day, I just… couldn’t.
It wasn’t anything dramatic. No fall, no injury. Just me, standing in my kitchen, staring at the dishes in the sink, feeling completely exhausted. My body was tired. My mind was tired. And for the first time, I let myself admit: I need help.
That was the hardest part.
Finding the Right Support
I didn’t want a service that would take over my life. I wanted support that actually fit into my life.
When I first called Abled Care Services, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I thought they’d immediately start talking about schedules, carers, and assessments. But instead, they asked me, “What’s important to you?”
That caught me off guard.
I mumbled something about being independent. About wanting to stay in my own home. About how I didn’t want to feel like a burden. And they just… listened.
Support That Feels Like Family
The first person I met was Emily, an occupational therapist. She wasn’t pushy. She didn’t come in with a list of changes. Instead, she asked questions:
"What’s the hardest part of your day?"
"Where do you feel unsafe?"
"What’s something you wish was easier?"
Together, we made small tweaks—grab bars in the bathroom, a better chair, reorganizing my kitchen so I wasn’t stretching for things I couldn’t reach. Nothing major, but enough to make a difference.
Then came Daniel, my physiotherapist. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of doing exercises—I’m not exactly the gym type. But he didn’t push. He showed me little movements that helped with balance, small things I could do while watching TV or brushing my teeth.
It wasn’t overnight, but one day I caught myself walking from the couch to the kitchen without thinking about it. That was a win.
Support That Changed Everything
I was nervous about having a support worker. I didn’t want someone hovering over me, making me feel incapable.
Then I met Grace.
She wasn’t just there to tick off a checklist. Some days, she helped with cooking. Other days, she drove me to appointments. And some days, she just sat with me, made a cup of tea, and talked.
It was nice. It was normal.
And when she mentioned the art therapy group, I hesitated. I hadn’t painted in years. But I gave it a shot, and now? I don’t miss a session. It’s not just about painting—it’s about laughing, sharing stories, being around people who get it.
From Struggles to Strength
Looking back, I don’t know why I waited so long to ask for help.
I thought support meant losing my independence. But I was wrong. The right support gave me my independence back.
I still have tough days. I still have moments where I wish things were easier. But now, I don’t feel like I have to do it all alone.
And that, honestly, has made all the difference.
