Why I Started NeuroCocoon?

Two years ago, I packed my bags and moved to a quiet island on the west coast Victoria, British Columbia. I came here to study biomedical systems, full of ambition and a million questions. What I didn’t expect was how much I’d change, not just as a student, but as a person.

I wandered a lot. In between long nights of studying, I worked a lot. I’ve had almost eight different jobs in two years, most in clinical and healthcare settings. From behind machines to right beside patients, every role had the same heartbeat: trying to make things better.

What stayed with me weren’t the textbooks. It was moments real, raw moments.

Like a wife, gently coaching her husband through a robotic treadmill session “locomotion training,” they call it. I watched as the machine lifted him, supported him, and she held his hand through every shaky step. It wasn’t just tech. It was love and resilience, powered by innovation.

Or the man who couldn’t remember how to play his guitar. Until someone found a way a new tool, a new method , and suddenly, music came back into his life. Not perfectly. But beautifully.

These moments cracked something open in me. They made me want to understand more , how we can rebuild what’s been lost, not just through science, but through care. Through better systems. Through design that listens. Through technology that lifts people, not just physically, but emotionally.

At school, we were often challenged to come up with big innovative ideas. But I always wondered , were they really solving the problems patients face every day? Were they practical? Did they make someone’s life better, even in the smallest way?

That’s what I want to explore with Neurococoon.

This space is about:

• Innovation that feels human

• Healthcare pathways that are smoother, kinder

• Rehabilitation that’s full of possibility

• Research that connects science to real life

I want to share the steps I’m taking, the things I’m learning, and the people who inspire me along the way.

This isn’t just a blog. It’s a cocoon. A space of stillness, growth, and quiet transformation. Inside, something fragile is being rebuilt , not rushed, not exposed, just nurtured. In time, when it’s ready, it emerges. Not the same as before, but stronger, more capable, and more alive. That’s what I hope this space can be: a cocoon for ideas, for innovation, for healing. A place where new pathways can take root , slowly, intentionally, until they’re ready to step into the world.

I’d love for you to be part of this journey.

Let’s see what we can bloom.

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