Imagine waking up every day knowing that something as simple as taking your prescribed medication could become a frustrating battle—especially when technology designed to help often falls short. This is the stark reality for many visually impaired individuals, and it's a challenge that's not just inconvenient, it's potentially dangerous. But here's where it gets exciting: a young innovator from Vancouver is changing the game with a clever solution that empowers independence. And this is the part most people miss—the way everyday barriers like this can spark groundbreaking ideas from unexpected sources.
Meet Brett Devoo, who lost his sight at age 16 and now depends on daily medications to manage his health. He relies on advanced glasses meant to help him locate the correct pill bottle, but as he candidly shares, they're not foolproof. 'I’m kind of always finding that I have found my own way of making things accessible,' Devoo explains to CityNews, describing how he uses different types of tape—like the sticky fabric kind from hockey sticks—to tell bottles apart by touch. It's a resourceful workaround, but it highlights just how vital and often overlooked these accessibility issues are.
His friend, 15-year-old Elvin Nguyen, witnessed Devoo's struggles firsthand. 'I saw one of the things he was struggling with most was medication adherence following his like disorder, so he wasn’t able to really see the labels well,' Nguyen recalls. This inspired him to tackle the problem head-on for the Science Fair Foundations Youth Innovation Showcase.
To put this in perspective, over 70% of Canadians with vision impairment regularly take prescribed medications, and while there are plenty of digital tools available—like apps that scan labels via smartphone—these aren't always practical or readily accessible. Tommy Leung, spokesperson for the Canadian National Institute for the Blind, emphasizes the importance: 'Having these kinds of technologies will definitely be very helpful in guaranteeing independence.' Yet, in pharmacies, things aren't always so straightforward.
Devoo points out the limitations bluntly: 'Honestly, it’s not accessible at all.' Pharmacies often hand over medications in plain bags, saying, 'Here you go,' and while they might verbally identify bottles if asked, the shapes are identical, making it hard to distinguish them reliably. This raises a controversial point: should pharmacies be doing more to ensure basic accessibility, or is the burden unfairly placed on individuals to navigate these gaps? After all, medication errors can have serious consequences, and not everyone has the ingenuity of Brett Devoo to improvise solutions.
There is some progress, though. About 20% of Vancouver pharmacies offer a service called Script Talk, which provides talking labels that vocalize information when placed on a special reader. These readers are free for those with vision loss, but awareness is shockingly low. By 2020, only 2% of prescription users in Canada were utilizing Script Talk, with many unaware it even exists. But here's where it gets controversial—why isn't this life-enhancing tool more widely promoted? Is it a failure of education, or does it point to bigger systemic issues in healthcare accessibility?
Enter Nguyen's game-changing innovation: 3D-printed labels in Braille, something no Vancouver pharmacy currently provides. As Nguyen demonstrates, 'As you can see here, I just plugged in a bunch of words like ‘Hi CityNews’ as an example, and it would convert it into Braille.' These labels attach directly to bottles, allowing users to feel the raised dots with their fingers—no extra devices needed. For beginners learning about Braille, it's essentially a tactile writing system using patterns of raised bumps to represent letters and words, making it readable by touch. Nguyen hopes this makes medication management simple for anyone, anywhere, without relying on phones or fancy gadgets.
'Learning Braille promotes independence,' Nguyen notes. 'Do you want to take your phone every time you want to take a medication, or do you just want to drag your fingers across and take the medication?' It's a powerful choice, empowering users like Devoo to handle their needs autonomously. When Devoo's high-tech glasses fail, Nguyen's invention ensures he can continue managing his medications on his own terms, just as he's always adapted to do.
This story underscores how innovation can bridge gaps in accessibility, but it also invites debate. What if pharmacies were mandated to include tactile labels on all medication bottles? Or, on the flip side, should individuals learn Braille as a standard skill, even if it's not always easy? Do you think Nguyen's solution could inspire broader changes in how we think about disability and independence? We'd love to hear your thoughts—agree or disagree, share your opinions in the comments below!
