When Suzan Kewan was critically wounded in a Syria bomb blast, her husband was told he could bring her to Canada to get the surgery she needs.

After all, she required specialized treatment which could not be accessed in Syria. A piece of shrapnel had entered her left shoulder and exited her back near her spinal cord, and a second piece blew out her left eye.

But after bringing his family to Windsor in 2015 Kewan's husband, Walid Al-Rebdawi, said he received unexpected news from two medical specialists who expressed little hope that anything could be done to improve his wife's condition.

"We cannot do anything because having the treatment is not yet approved by the government to be done to people," said Al-Rebdawi via a translator, recalling the words of one doctor.

The day of the blast

Three bombs went off within minutes of one another. It happened in September 2012 while Al-Rebdawi was working in the storefront he owned in his home country of Syria.

One bomb went off within an audible distance of his store, prompting him to run to his nearby home about "500 metres" away where his wife, son and two daughters lived.

A second bomb went off 10 min​utes later — this time, near the home where his sister, aunt and uncle lived about "200 metres away."

Waled Al-Rebdawi says he didn't want to move to Canada back in 2015, but was convinced to do so after refugee camp interviewers from Canada told him they would take care of his wife's surgery. (Sanjay Maru/CBC)

Al-Rebdawi said he immediately headed over there, but within 100 metres of his trek toward his relatives, a third bomb went off.

It had struck his own home, critically injuring his wife and killing his eldest daughter who was 16 at the time.

"She was standing [outside] to save my mom ... She came in front of her to not get my mom injured" said Al-Rebdawi's 10-year-old daughter Bayan who was spared from the blast because she was sleeping inside the home.

Cross-border promises lost in translation

The bombings displaced Al-Rebdawi's family to a refugee camp in Jordan, which sits along the southern border of Syria. He said moving to Canada wasn't in his plans, but he was convinced by interviewers at the refugee camp to do so.

"They said, 'No, if you come to Canada. We will take care of her and all the surgery required we will do for her," said Al-Rebdawi's translator, adding doctors in Syria and Jordan had already told the family they wouldn't be able to help.

Today, Kewan sits bedridden in the family's apartment unit — a far cry from the image Al-Rebdawi expected to have of her three years after moving to Windsor.

"There's no assurance that this surgery will work on humans, so that's why they can not help. They can not give them any help," said Al-Rebdawi's translator.

Christine Frangione, nurse practicioner at the Multicultural Council of Windsor-Essex County, says many of her clients suffer from chronic health events and are connected with the right health providers as soon as possible. (Sanjay Maru/CBC)

The family, which supports themselves solely through disability benefits, reached out to a number of organizations to find a nurse for Kewan back in 2015, but none was approved.

Christine Frangione, a nurse practitioner with the Multicultural Council of Windsor-Essex County, said false promises given to newcomers from overseas may not be fulfilled in Canada.

"I think a lot of times when clients come, we don't know what information they've been given. But we do try to set very realistic expectations and discuss what the care is going to be like here in Ontario," said Frangione.

"We do connect them as best as we can with the appropriate resources so then they're able to get that care."

Since learning about Kewan's medical condition about a month ago, the Syrian Community Centre has started helping Al-Rebdawi look for a nurse who can care for his wife. The goal is to free him up to become employed so he can start earning a decent wage for his family.