Wednesday, December 26, 2012

It's Christmas...

I supposed it's technically Boxing Day now as it is after midnight.

I don't have anything terribly inspiring to say, nothing too heartfelt, but a couple of quick and super awesome things.

This year I did not have to:
- ask for a pass from the hospital or a program to spend time with my family
- be in photos with a tube hanging from my nose
- spend most of the day sleeping due to high doses of anti-anxieties or physical exhaustion secondary to starvation
- plan a tube feed or other schedule around any pass I might have
- stress about what meal came next and/or how to skip it
- sneak to the bathroom, backyard, or bedroom to throw up whatever I did eat
- take hundreds of laxatives now that I am home alone after a long day of eating and drinking
- regret losing the last year of my life to my eating disorder
- dread the year ahead
- wonder if this was my last Christmas because of the ED
- have to call and ask what exactly I should be eating for any given meal
- dread waking up to get on a scale
- feel guilt.  At all.
- feel regret.  At all.

I did, however:
- feel happy throughout the day complete with a few unexpected turns
- enjoy what food and drinks were offered, as I wanted them
- give and receive hugs freely
- maintain eye contact and engage in many interactions
- laugh and smile from the inside
- allow myself to be completely present in my moments, even slightly removed as a "spectator" at times, just to really take in the whole wonderful scene
- look forward to tomorrow's plans with friends
- refrain from giving material gifts as planned
- do what felt right to me as it pertained to religious traditions, without guilt
- get really excited to dress up and did not think about the size of the clothes I was wearing
- feel thankful for this wonderful opportunity to experience the season as the person I have become

What an amazing list, and I could go on.  The difference is so remarkable but feels so completely natural.  This is how Christmas was supposed to feel all along - joyful, peaceful, content, and loved.

Gone are the days of self-hatred so deep that I could not see past it; as are the days of years passing with me standing by, waiting for the strength, courage, and direction to change.

For all of this and much more that I cannot think to put words to because I am tired from this day - I am so thankful.

Merry Christmas.

Monday, December 10, 2012

Choosing your recovery


I've been thinking even further about the whole concept of recovery recently. Through observing my own process and a little of that of others', I wonder how much of our recoveries we do not define ourselves. When I left for treatment, I went with the intention of getting well and never going back to the eating disorder. I decided that despite stats and “facts” and all other external sources, I was going to achieve a solid and complete recovery.

When I indicate that I am “not there” yet in my posts, it is the very end of all this that I speak of. The end of MY journey towards MY idea of wellness. According to any diagnostic manual, I am recovered from anorexia/bulimia. I suppose I would have to maintain it for 6 months outside of a program for that claim to be supported. I will do that and six months from now I may have achieved what I want in my mind too. I know that a big part of the next while is practice of what I have been brought to understand.

There were times when I felt that I had “maxed out” my process; I would have settled and been okay with the degree of wellness I had at many points because it was just so drastically better than when I was sick. I felt often that different emotional places were “good enough” for me and I would just have to accept feeling really crummy sometimes in exchange for the really good days. True, I will have bad days just like any other human for the rest of my life. I will have days where I feel insecure and nights that I cry myself to sleep. I will be disappointed and heartbroken. I will not always love my body or all parts of my body everyday. The thing is: that's all okay!! None of those days mean that I'm relapsing or even at risk. I have been proving to myself since I've been home the kind of emotional resources I have developed and the strength I have. The biggest difference is that I allow these days without them really taking away from the peace/happiness/contentment that I feel inside. That is nearly a constant at this point. Moods come and go and experiences vary, but the good is never completely out weighed by the negative.

This does not mean that every moment of everyday is easy. I have days that are a mental struggle still, where I fight off self deprecating thoughts and making myself tired with efforts to affirm the positive and true. It takes effort still but just a bit less, and less often. However, because I have set my standards high for wellness, I take on these days as challenges. Can I do today better than the last time I felt this way? Will today be easier than last time? Have I learned anything recently that can help me get through this faster and more smoothly than last time? The answer is nearly always, yes!

I have my days of severe doubt but what I am proving to myself is that those thoughts have no place in my world. Sometimes I cannot even believe how much more distance I am putting between myself and the ED as days go on.

I know people who stop at certain points and decide, like I did at various times, that enough is enough and that place will be good enough for them. They applaud themselves – with good reason – for all the positive changes they have made in thought and behaviours but they stop. I suppose no one can be truly stagnant but it seems that there comes a time when one needs to decide within themselves that despite it still hurting after all they have already endured, they need to push a little harder to get a little further. This comes along with a similar blind hope that got me to treatment in the first place. I had no idea that this was actually possible but it was worth a shot. Why does anyone involve themselves in treatment voluntarily? Because they want something more – somewhere within them is a drive and desire for something greater.

Not everyone wants to do that and I do not judge a single person who chooses to hold onto small aspects of their eating disorder be it in behaviour or thought. It is comfortable to an extent; it is familiar; and to be truly without it is completely unknown. Unknown, I have learned, does not have to mean impossible.  Unknown can also mean extremely beautiful!  I didn't know for a long time how things could get better for me. I accepted my bad days and looked forward to the better days and that was “good enough”. I had other people telling me that it got better yet and that was nice to hear but I believed I would only improve marginally over a very long period of time.

Then something switched again a few months ago. I realized that I was not accepting, I was resolving to slow change/progress and I had given up on my idea of wellness that I had arrived in Portugal with. When that came into my awareness, I gave myself a kick in the butt and chose to change my perspective. I brought myself back to the place of possibility and hope. As I said to a friend around that time: accept for today, hope for tomorrow. Then, I again allowed myself to notice my progress as it occurred. It's been completely different than concrete overcoming of ED behaviours/patterns/and some thoughts.  It's not about counting berries and measuring protein and making sure I'm drinking enough and exercising in moderation.  Though everyone seems to have to start there, eventually it becomes a lot more interesting and also less distressing (a long eventually after the behaviuors are gone).  It becomes far more about bettering myself as a person – the kind of growth I have written about that I believe will carry on for life! It is accompanied with slight lingering negative thoughts and that is exactly what intend to shake further.

The biggest part of this was allowing myself the value that I would extend to someone else. Would where I was at, emotionally, be okay in my mind for a good friend or sister? No - then it's not good enough for me. So I kept moving forward. At this point, I would want the place I am at for many people but not without the desire for improvement.

So the whole point of this, is to express that I haven't settled yet. I set out with the intention of becoming fully well and fully myself and I am going to attain that. Probably faster than I think, though I feel sometimes that I'm making very little forward movement. I think anyone can define the recovery they want and work towards it. If one chooses to place the bar low, they can attain that. There comes a time in the recovery process where we choose what our success looks like. I've placed my standards high in the most positive ways and I'm excited to keep working towards the awareness that I want, need, and can achieve.

I'm sure people will say, “It's not that simple”. Honestly, I believe that once one has been supported through the earlier parts of recovery, it really is that simple. Simple does not mean easy as I have written before. My process right now is not always easy and does not always feel good but it continues to be expontentially worth it. I choose to take what happens today, get through it, learn from it, and apply my knowledge tomorrow. In the words of Maya Angelou:
Choose your recovery, define it, learn and apply, and don't stop until you have exactly what you want.

<3


Edit: I suppose I need to clarify a little further. I should say, also, that it cannot be expected that one leaves treatment “cured”.  The thing about this time, for me, it is not a "struggle". It is a continued work in progress towards the same goal as day 1. Some days are harder than other in various ways but it is not necessarily a fight, more of a challenge. During this time of transition, I am faced with more choices – to keep walking down the path to wellness as I desire it with both feet, or to dabble in the old path be it in thought or behaviour a bit longer or even once in a while. There are more difficult and thus interesting questions: Am I happy with me? Am I happy with how I act/react in situations? Do I like how I interact? What can I improve on? What would I like to change? How can I make the changes? Is my way of being consistent with what I encourage in others? Is it bringing me peace?

I have to take all these questions and many more and be honest with myself even when I don't like the answer. Then I have a choice of what to do about it. If I cannot change something concrete, can I change my attitude? And so on...

So, it's just a few words to the concept that to get to recovered (however one defines that) is going to take some time. I still believe that the end result, my goal, is completely personal, chosen, and is going to be more wonderful than I can imagine.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Memories and disconnect


It has been very interesting to watch my reaction to my memories. There are many. Some I have/had predicted that I would react to and prepared. Some I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that I did not react and the others seem to come out of left field.

Yesterday I encountered paperwork filled out my by doctor that had “Anorexia Nervosa” written in the Primary Diagnosis section. That was all it took to feel like I had been hit in the stomach. I folded it up and put it away and went on to enjoy a wonderful dinner party with a couple of key people on my old “team”. It was a fantastic experience to sit next to those who at times sat with me while I was only tolerating tube feeds or sipping Ensure or gnawing nervously on grapes or celery sticks. We ate, drank, chatted. I felt relaxed, it all felt natural, and I thoroughly and truly enjoyed myself. What a blessing to have those opportunities!

When I got home, I decided to “poke” at myself and look again at my paper work. There it was again Anorexia Nervosa in that familiar writing.

*flash* Hospital admission papers
*flash* Smells, sounds
*flash* Fear, dread, shame.

How long has it been since I have seen that diagnosis near my name officially? I suppose approximately 18 months. Yes, about 18 months ago to the day, I carried my last set of admission papers up those hospital stairs, less than 72 hours from my previous discharge, and committed to the next weeks in hospital to stay stable so I could make the trip to Portugal.

It seems like a different life – it really is. Yet my hands still shook as I looked at the words on those papers less than 24 hours ago. Despite the next pages filled with a declaration of an excellent prognosis and indications for continued forward movement, those two words made me feel like I was drowning momentarily.

What an indication of how far I've come. I felt disconnected as a patient from that diagnosis, those simple words. The rest, “ongoing assessment” “consults with...”, etc. was all okay. I can't always predict what's going to hit me and cause an emotional reaction. I can feel on top of the world and like my past doesn't exist and one slight thing can flip me upside down just to test me. This flipped and shook me and yet today, here I am back on my feet. I am refusing to allow too much continued ruminating, I sent the papers off to who needs them today so that I did not have to see that again. It was a combination: the words, plus my doctor's familiar writing (and yes, I can read it quite well, it is very clear!) that got me.

As I keep living, day to day, I encounter various situations that set off alarm bells in my head but I believe I am overcoming my momentary emotional disruptions with more ease each time or at least as time goes on - sometimes it takes a few tries around the same time. It's still very exciting, but some days, some moments, some memories, are still very hard.

Days go by and I continue to heal. I really do feel blessed to be where I am at and when I focus on that, the memories hold much less significance for they are only that...memory.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

One month back in Canada!


It's a bit unbelievable how quickly the time has gone. It is clear from my previous post that I am back up north in my home town. I had a wonderful time in Vancouver and being here...is quite a change.

I am so thankful to be able to be with the people who helped me through so many horrible times. Working as hard as I did to attain the recovery I have has been worth it just for me. However, the congratulations from others and genuine acceptance of who I have been allowed to become confirms just how worth it this was.

This was the town where I spent the worst of my sick time and because of that, there are many memories that I would prefer not to have. Sometimes, certain places, sounds, smells, etc. can cause memories so strong I cannot see anything else. These are not often positive but I am working through each of these traumatic “flashbacks” (yes, they are that bad sometimes) and memories. I cry frequently as I allow myself to heal from the past. I am able to talk about it and, though not easy, try to allow people to comfort me through the difficult times.

Being in this town, has also brought me to a place of occasional self-consciousness in a strange way. The only way I can explain it is through an analogy that seems appropriate for the quickly approaching Christmas season:

It makes me very uncomfortable to open gifts in front of people, especially in front of the person giving the gift to me. I feel, in this town, like I'm in a room full of people who have given me presents and I need to unwrap them in front of everyone. What I would love to do is receive the gifts and thank them for the thought and then spend some time with each gift; with the wrapping, ribbon, and card; and with the sentiment each gift holds. After I have processed my experience of the gift, I would like to go back and thank the gifter or send a thank you card, and put the gift to its best use.

I know that this, in reality, is something I would like to be able to do with more ease - quite literally what I am speaking about. Metaphorically, the gifts I have been given are beyond thoughtful, they are life giving, and I need time to adjust to the fact that I was the recipient and that each day is an opportunity to open another and thank the giver in person.

So, I fumble through a lot of interactions at this point still, but not because I feel judged, analyzed, critiqued, questioned, or intimidated as I might have even earlier in the year; simply because I do not have the grace to find my words in all moments, or to reach out impulsively and hug the person in front of me. At other times, I have forgotten my past and step into interactions like nothing of the last years ever happened and that can end up creating unusual situations too.

Overall, in many more moments than not, I find myself so full of love of life and excitement for life as I would hope anyone who had been given a second (third, fourth, tenth..) lease on life would be. I have my times, of course, where things are not awesome, and that is sometimes comforting in its normalcy.

On another topic, I longed for Canadian winter and I am living in it now. The darkness is a challenge but the fluffy white snow that decorate the mountains is just beautiful. I went for a drive yesterday to another town and saw a beautiful and giant eagle and three deer. Wildlife and nature are so magnificent here. I miss the city lights and traffic noise, but I am doing my best to make the most of my time here, with all that it has to offer me.

So with that note, I am off to spend a quiet evening enjoying further introspection about the last few days.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

In a little town, far far away...

I was into my local hospital today to visit an ill family friend.  I knew that I would run into people there who knew me, but I went with much less anxiety than ever before.  What a wonderful experience it was, as each time I have visited as I moved along in this process, has been.  I even saw the kitchen ladies today and that was extra delightful.  So to the staff at Mills I would like to say:

Thank you for your pride in me (it will always be "us"); for allowing me to see your tears that come because of my happiness/wellness; for seeing me as I am now and letting the past drop away; for your hugs, smiles, and little shrieks of surprise.

I am honoured to share my success with this little community that ultimately, became part of a world-wide team. My memory is still vague and names, sadly, sometimes escape me. I remember your faces though, and I remember my experience of your caring and warmth. I remember when, despite being run off your feet, you made an extra minute to sit with me, to remind me of why I was worth the effort. I remember when you helped me laugh at myself.

When I look back, I remember some things that went sideways and occasions when frustration overtook patience on all sides, but those are not the memories that feature in my recollection.

Overall, I regard our past with a bit of jaw-drop awe. I do not know one other person in a persistent position as I was, that has encountered such effort on her behalf. I acknowledge my efforts also, but it was you – the nurses, affiliated staff, and a remarkable doctor – who allowed me to keep trying. I knew I would be truly cared about and valued as Me, every time I hauled myself (and my things!) up those stairs and signed in. Even if every negative fibre in my body wanted to be left alone and had me hissing and scratching like an alley cat, you received me where I was at and helped me build on that even when it seemed like the same things over and over again.

To experience your reactions now, to what I have become is yet another blessing on top of my, already countless, heap. To know that it matters to so many of you to see the positive outcome that was enabled because of a team you were part of; to watch your faces light up as recognition sets in – it is an experience that is again, a privilege that I could have never imagined I would be so fortunate to have.

Thank you” is just a phrase, merely words and entirely inadequate for what I would like to express. I have discovered that the biggest thank you to everyone who has been involved, will be to carry on and live my life to the fullest with love and kindness.

So, for all that you were/did, and for continuing to be part of my life and my process - you all deserve gold stars.

You are heroes in my world.

With such respect,
Julia

Thursday, November 22, 2012

No words

I've been meaning to write something that adequately expresses my experience of being home and of life, currently.  I've sat, staring at a blank screen for hours; walking and thinking trying to find a way to sum it all up; searching for someone else's words even that might have gone before me, felt and been this way, and found a way to say it that might fit for me too.

I'm at a complete loss.  I posted this to a friend/on a forum of sorts yesterday:

"I haven't posted here for quite a while. I have found myself in a place where there are few words that do even remote justice to my current experience of the world in all it's wonder. The universe has showered me with wealth in the form of life that I never, ever thought possible, or could even imagine. I am so thankful."
What came to me yesterday is that, though words serve me well and I love them and will continue to write, the most appropriate expression of the light, life, and gratitude that I feel is through living it.
I will find a way.  I usually find the words with time.  Just know that, though far from perfect or always easy, life is so beautiful.
In very light news, I have a gorgeous cat now that I'm more settled and know I can keep her with me.  Her name is Callie.  :)  What a lovely companion.

With love.
Me.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Random Rant


So, I'm home, and I have lots to say about being back but today, I am going to go on a bit of a rant regarding the goings on for people seeking eating disorder treatment in Canada.

There has been an ongoing uproar from suffers about not being able to access out of province care for their illnesses. It makes sense to be looking beyond what one has tried and tried again in one's quest for recovery.

Last year, the Ministry of Health, many health authorities, and the provincial ED program took quite a beating as people with anorexia and bulimia bravely brought their struggles to the spotlight. The situation in BC infuriated me and continues to – to an extent. One thing I need to clarify, and finally have the public words to support what I knew of BC to continue this discussion, is that it is anyone's right to seek out of province care in another hospital. It is Canada, and without any sort of specialist's input, one can get a referral to, and access hospital-based care outside of their province of residence.

When I said this last year, supported with my own experience, I was attacked as badly at the ministry if not worse because it was so personal. Who was I to say anything when I had been sent to boutique treatment in Europe, right? Right. Poor little rich girl who was already getting what she needed. Rich? Who are you kidding? Desperate, and fortunate to have family and friends that were willing to sacrifice more than I will ever know to give me the opportunity to get well in the environment I needed, is more like it. I eventually shut up, then, because it wasn't a battle I needed to fight. Despite speaking from experience and with knowledge, I was told I was wrong. I still don't want to become too involved in all this, but there needs to be clarification and credit given to the people who really are trying to help the best they can. So, I quote from a canada.com article, the rest of which regards the personal story of someone else and is not pertinent to my discussion today.

“Ryan Jabs, media relations for the Ministry of Health said the ministry recognizes the tremendous challenges individuals cope with on a daily basis dealing with complex medical issues, such as an eating disorder.

"It is important that any client receives the most appropriate treatment to meet their needs, whether that is in an outpatient, residential or inpatient setting, as determined by clinical experts," said Jabs. "The ultimate goal is to help people recover and live in their own communities - and we need to ensure supports are available for people close to home.

"Clinicians work closely with all their clients and their GP to develop and maintain a care plan to maintain a healthy lifestyle, which includes psychological support, health checkups and dietician support. However - and while we will not speak to individual cases - we cannot force people into care; clients need to be willing to continue to participate in their care."
Jabs the ministry is not denying anyone the option of seeking treatment outside the province.

"Anyone can access hospital-based care for an eating disorder in another province, as long as they have been referred by a BC physician and accepted into the program," said Jabs. "B.C. will cover the cost of this treatment through our reciprocal billing agreement, and no pre-approval from the ministry is required.”"

Within these few paragraphs there is a bit of jargon and towing of party lines, but let me speak about it from my experience again.

First in Vancouver, the provincial program did what they could for me. Eventually, like Jabs mentions, they worked closely with my GP and decided that to keep me in my community was better because it allowed me access, with the frequency I needed, to inpatient care. I also had frequent access to affiliated health staff such as counsellors, an OT, and an RD. I saw my GP weekly at the very least, usually more frequently.

The “clinical experts” involved through the provincial program did their job. They admitted me to their program when my name came up on the waitlist; a couple of times they personalized it as best they could in that they gave me a longer stay or options regrading passes and/or feeding schedules. They continued to see me for follow-up clinic appointments that, although I felt were unnecessary, were part of their communication regarding my care with my GP. I was offered the residential program that is available here, they worked to prepare me, physically, for it. In the end, it did not fit for me and we all agreed on that. Though my experience and discharge were traumatic, we all tried our best.

Jabs goes onto say that they cannot force people to participate in treatment. For the 3 years I spent largely in my wee northern community, very rarely was I certified in hospital and never in the community. My GP understood the importance of having me feel like a part of the team and not governed by said team. As needed, he drew on the support he saw in the community. I was doing no one any favours by participating, except myself. I knew, that despite my emotional mind not understanding what was going on and despite how uncomfortable the ideas that were being posed to me were, I needed to let someone else know better.

Within what we had to work with, I tried. I needed to eat, we arranged individual meal support. Was it optimal? Probably not. I “got away' with many negative things but we all tried. Even when I refused to eat or tampered with my supplements, the people involved in my care knew that the regular contact with me was essential. If I was trying to put the wool over one person's eyes, I might be too exhausted in a day or two to keep up the act and therefore, someone else was able to assess my status and possibly intervene at the right moment. The commitment by those involved with me, despite the tricks I tried to pull, sent me a subconscious message that they cared about the me that was really there, inside – masked by all the negativity of an ED. Just because meal support was labelled as such, it went beyond that.

There were frustrating times. There were attempts to have me abide by contracts that told me what I needed to do to stay out of hospital. There were days where I tried to give them all the middle finger and walk away. Regardless, when I inevitably came back (sometimes hours later, days at most), they were there to help me.

Is this a common occurrence? I'm not sure. I hear people saying they've been “dumped” by their counsellors or dieticians and I have to believe that is their experience. But why? Is it that key component to being a willing participant? Was it the flexibility/fluidity with my care that kept me engaged? Partially, I expect it was. I also know that a huge part of it for me was that my team was not sticking by me just to keep me alive but to get me well. None of us knew how to do it. We did know that there was no text book answer or algorithm to follow for Julia, so we were creative – they in positive ways, and me more often in negative ways to protect my ED.

They seized the moments when more of Me was showing and worked with that. They got to know, as time went on, who was speaking at any given time – Julia or her eating disorder. They were tough years for us all, but we did it – together. There was very little force. The only thing that I felt was forced was that no one was going to give up on me.

Lastly, the ongoing saga of people applying for out of province care and declaring they have been denied funding. It is Canada. We can access hospital-based care in any province we choose if we have a referral from a doctor of any sort who feels strongly that we would benefit from something different. There are no special funding requests needed. To be clear, this is just for hospital-based care. As Jabs says, there needs to be the referral and the acceptance of the patient by the program referred to. If either of these parties feel that there is care within the province that could be tried first, one needs to go through the motions.

When people saw me going off to a world-class treatment centre overseas, of course they had emotional reactions. So did I, as I felt so completely unworthy. Part of me knew, however, that it was the last stop for me. It was going to work or I was as good as dead. I also knew that I had done my best within my country and worked as hard as my sick mind would allow me. I tried the provincial program repeatedly inpatient and the residential program. I tried community based care. I tried out patient in Vancouver. I requested to try the program in Edmonton and that was facilitated within 6 weeks from referral (from my GP and acceptance to the program by the director there) to walking through the doors of the U of A hospital. Nothing fit or provided lasting change/relief from my illness.

I look back with pride in myself for working as hard as I did with the little strength I had. I applaud the teams in each place that worked with each other to provide the best care they could for me. I sometimes proclaimed that x, y, or z would not help me but even with that resistance, I knew I had to try because I was aware that I couldn't not try something new/different.

Hospitals in all provinces do the best they can to treat these complex illnesses. I know that not everyone has access to the degree of compassion I received from my practitioners. I do know that every Canadian citizen regardless of diagnosis, has a right to the provision of care that best suits their needs as is available. A key part of all of this, is the willingness that Jabs speaks about. I have heard it referred to as “readiness” and for me, that was the wrong word. I never felt ready because I had no idea what was on the other side of the hell I knew I had to walk through but I was willing to try and to try again. Yes, eventually I reached a very hopeless place but it was at that time when I was able to access when I needed and what worked. For someone else, to keep trying something new, to keep working with whatever few resources they have, something might click sooner or in a different way. What works for them will manifest itself as the time is right.

The purpose of my rant, today, was to bring light to the availability of hospital-based care for all Canadian citizens but also to encourage people to work hard with whatever they have. Keep communicating even if the possible result scares you. I've been there, I've had to tell people exactly how I was feeling emotionally or physically with the understanding that I could lose my rights to anything in a flash because of my honesty; I've had to do the same thing over and over with little tweaks to try and achieve a different result; I've worked with creative teams to try and make things different with the resources we had.

There is not a person out there who cannot say I didn't try everything I could. Yes, I bailed on treatment a few times because I knew (the real me) that it was not for me but that didn't stop my search for something that might work and even trying what I was fairly sure, wouldn't. I believe it was partially that commitment on my part that kept my practitioners engaged. Also, please don't fall prey to the idea that only “specialists” know how to deal with people with eating disorders. That is far from reality. My team learned from me and with me about what might work for me and that kept me going.

If one really thinks that a set of four different pastel coloured walls are going to make a difference – possibly. There are a few variations in programs around the country, yes. Beyond the program is the possibility to meet people who will work for any individual. I also believe that those people are available in any program, hospital, or community. Those people are available in day to day life – let them be there.

So, yes, keep exploring options and remember, it's not always as difficult as some people make it seem, to access different treatment. The actual process is difficult and painful; lonely and can feel unbearable – but that doesn't change with location. In the end, willingness is key and from there, the possibilities are endless.