Colleagues started turning their faces away when passing me in the hall. Epilepsy Toronto came to a meeting to discuss the situation, but didn’t get anywhere. My duties were changed. I was no longer working directly with patients, but was instead given a lot of paperwork to do.

Then, a group of my colleagues called the College of Medical Radiation Technologists of Ontario to report that Jean Gobin has a medical condition and is a danger to patients. The College, whose job is to protect the patient, called an inquiry. I needed a lawyer.

I felt like I was going to lose everything in my life, everything I had worked for, everything that meant something to me.

A lot of people asked, why didn’t I just go on disability? That really bothered me. Since coming to Canada, I had never been on unemployment insurance and I did not intend to start. I thought society was trying to integrate persons with disabilities into the workplace, so we won’t be a burden on taxpayers. My neurologist told me: “You’re one of my few patients who can lead a normal life, and you’re not being allowed to.”

Despite my neurologist’s assurances that I was not a danger to patients, the College decided that I could not work in any patient area. I was given a new job— one with no patient contact whatsoever—performing computerized planning of patient treatment. And for the rest of my career, whenever I change jobs, I have to inform the College.

My doctor and lawyer convinced me that accepting this decision was the least stressful solution to my employment problems.

At first I didn’t like the newly created position. But then I began to accept this new job for what it is. I’m now my own boss, and can manage my day and the pace of my work. I have been given the responsibility for ensuring that everything is properly completed at least 24 hours before the patient arrives, and can perform calculations of the amount of radiation that the patient is to receive.

The irony is that today, a lot of people in my department would like to have my job, believing that I have more authority than before, with a real impact on administrative procedures and efficiency. I feel that it has worked out for the best, and most of the time, I feel lucky.

Clearly, our society still has a ways to go before people with disabilities are fully integrated into the workplace. But if I could talk to the 10 year old with epilepsy today, my message would be quite clear: Don’t get discouraged!! It might be difficult, but your dreams can come true. Just look at my life: an excellent education, a good job in my chosen field, and a home of my own in my chosen country. I have both the independence and the economic security that I always wanted. And I have no reason for regret.

It’s true: the future belongs to those who dream.