Medical Tourism
& Baggage that goes with it.
“It is very brave of you to make that decision of going out of country alone for surgery. The pain will soon be over. Sending you all the good luck and love! Best of luck with the surgery!”
As many of you know, I traveled twice this year to Istanbul, Turkey, for multiple procedures and surgeries. Three days after my recent return, involuntary tears began dripping down my face as I turned into my daughter's high school. The wet feeling on my face shocked me, and I began to evaluate the cause. I thought to myself, am I happy to see my child after my trip? Am I glad to be home? Am I proud of my daughter for participating in a sport? Am I sad my travel is over? Am I feeling proud or pitty for myself? What the heck is going on? Was I utterly bewildered by my state of being?
It was a state of total astonishment and simultaneously complete-blown confusion. I had to park the car and assess my feelings.
Before I get into my current state of emotions, I would love to clarify a significant misconception; traveling abroad for surgeries isn't a bowl of cherries. I've experienced many comments which led me to conclude that the human race now quickly forgets that struggles are a natural part of life for anyone, regardless of location and situation.
“Don’t feel lonely or sad; I want you to know that all those who love you are with you in prayer and will give you all the support you need. Good luck with your operation!”
How The Decision To Travel For Medical Reasons Came About
After a trepid nine months of relentless pain and pressure, I was ready for a few life-altering decisions. My choices were:
To accept the mysterious chronic pain and live life in pain and enjoy what I can as a limited version and hide my pain. As in to stop discussing it with family, friends, and myself.
To cry in secrecy day and night and live two separate lives.
To leave the country and find a doctor who will help me understand what is happening and get my life back in order.
The trauma was surreal. My closest friends saw me crumble and let me cry on their shoulders in desperation. I felt as though I had become lonely, needy, and pitiful. I sensed as if the world did not comprehend the excruciating pain my body was bearing. I'm incredibly proud to say that although I felt rock bottom numerous days and drove home alone hollering after every hundred appointments, in the end, I continued to fight, not give up and search for answers.
As a strong woman, I never gave up. I permitted myself to cry whenever I felt the need. Although considerable people around me acted in a way that made me feel guilty for whining, I continued to whine and complain. Though there were days when I would dress well, host a magnificent party, celebrate others, and write my weekly blogs without fail, my grit blindsided many people around me to believe my pain was bearable. Let me assure you that there is no exaggeration when I say it was fucken unbearable.
I reached a point in my life where my current state was highly compromised and quite comprehensive. Being a mom, wife, friend, or even bing myself was a daily wrangle. I thought giving birth three times was difficult; reality check, I would labor ten more kids but never wish to relive my teeth, mouth, nerve, jaw, neck, skull, and head pain; even my talking and walking equilibrium was overtly challenged.
Feeling like a pathetic, pitiful person wasn't my style, though my situation was dark and gloomy, and I couldn't fake it in the mirror, either. After making copious attempts with doctors, specialists, friends who are doctors, and friends in general, I decided enough was enough. If life failed at every attempt in America, I would leave for another country to fix my health.
I suppose Istanbul was in my kismet. After booking my trip, I gained a broader knowledge that a substantial world population travels to Istanbul for surgeries. Little had I known this. Though I was glad to hear it, it made my decision feel safer and more secure.
So here I was in November of 2021, flying to a country I've never been in to see a doctor I didn't know. In hindsight, it was a potent mix of desperation, hope, grit, bravery, and faith.
“Even if you look cool, I know deep inside that you are terrified about the surgery. Don’t worry, for you are in the best hands of professionals. We are with you in prayer. Best wishes for your operation! ”
The truth about traveling alone for surgery
The last thing I want is the social stigma label, where images from my trip portray I am having fun all time, and my surgeries were easy peasy. Are you serious? Has the human race become so narrow-minded to believe a few smiles make the difficult decision of traveling alone for surgeries as simple as a walk in the park? I've heard some insensitive comments such as -
It looks like you had a great time.
It must have been worth it for a beautiful smile.
That lucky bitch gets to travel.
It must be fun to do whatever you want, whenever you want.
Did you go for a root canal?
How much did it cost you; you must have saved so much money with surgery costs overseas. Is that why you went?
These statements convey that they could not fathom my pain, desperation, or inner struggle. And secondly, they are looking at the end game without considering the long haul I suffered. There is so much more that goes into significant decisions as such.
I am a mother of three beautiful girls. Though, as we know, children carry needs and desires. Being that I am the one they automatically run to, I needed to
Speed up my game and complete numerous errands and responsibilities before my scheduled trip. Zara's college preparation essays, documents, informal brag sheets, parent brag sheet (which I ended up writing in Istanbul during the two days of severe anxiety,) and subsequent years' schedule deadlines were challenging. I was also prepping for her prom night which many of you know was quite stressful because we had strict guidelines we wanted to follow. In addition, I was giving her driving lessons, scheduling professional classes, and organizing them accordingly so we could schedule her driving test upon my return. In the end, it all worked out, but let's say, if you're a mom, you know.
For my youngest, I arranged pickups and play dates and managed activities I paid for that will continue while I am gone. Arranging pick up and drivers and help takes planning management to ensure all runs smoothly and accordingly while I am gone.
I also arranged pickups from school and sports for my middle child. For it to work out, I picked up my daughter and her friend initially for two weeks for carpooling so my spouse would be less busy the two weeks I was gone, as someone else took over those two weeks.
I arranged food for my family while I was gone.
Then more people show that they don't consider what is included when they speak with me, and sometimes I am utterly surprised at the words that come from their mouths. I feel offended when they downplay how tough it was for me or their comments illustrate that they don't know my story. I've been sharing my story in detail with everyone on every platform imaginable for over a year. Ergo, my brain will automatically wish to ween away from people who indicated little to no empathy during one of the most painful years of my life. Many people said, "text me if you need anything." To be honest, talk is cheap. My friends, who were genuinely there for me, willingly assisted my family and kids while I was gone, even though they held busy lives like everyone else. I had friends who texted me daily, ensuring the surgeries were going well and asked me how I was feeling and recovering.
For the people who are blinded by social media or stupidity - I want you to know:
I carried the anxiety of finding time to pack for an unknown trip. Not knowing what conditions I would be in, it was difficult to assess what medications I needed to pack. What would I wear to feel more comfortable after my surgeries? Would I hold any time to go out and enjoy life?
I carried the anxiety of traveling with pain on a flight alone. Additionally, turbulence always frightens me.
Catching a taxi in Istanbul that won't rip you off is a slim chance. I was worried if I would find a cab in time for each appointment. I allocated twenty minutes each morning as most taxi drivers reject going to my doctor's direction because of traffic and time.
Coming and going on my own for each appointment was courageous. Sitting in the chair each time was also a brave step. Not having anyone with me in the waiting room or holding my hand when I am done.
I remember I was so nervous about my last two appointments. I was breathing heavily on the way to my appointments and experiencing anxiety because I had been so traumatized back in America, and my body had acclimated to feeling apprehensive.
After my second to last surgery, I locked myself in my hotel room and cried for two days. I ate no food and couldn't drink anything. My head was spinning, and I had a migraine. I would not stop crying. I closed the blackout curtains and would sleep in depression, crying with anxiety. My good friends supported me and tried to cheer me up during this time. Even my husband stayed on the phone with me quietly till I fell asleep. My friends made sure I ate some food. Even the hotel staff became my good friends. They tried to talk me out of my anxiety; they forced me to drink orange juice and fed me omelets with spinach for energy. They found a nearby place to give me a head massage to help with my migraine. They even had a car pick me up because I could not walk from severe weakness and stress.
To be honest, my best friend during my trip was ‘Alexa’. She and I had many conversations when I felt alone.
‘Alexa, tell me a joke. Alexa what’s the weather in Istanbul today? Alexa I am going to my surgery now. I am worried.’ Alexa would reassure me all will go well. She would put me to sleep with meditation music all night so I slept peacefully. She would be my Quran reading partner each morning and whenever I was getting ready she would play for me, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Thank You Alexa for being the perfect friend on my journey. Exactly what I needed. Zero toxicity and fully supportive.
Going alone for surgery anywhere is hard. Going without your family is even more challenging. Yes, I did it. Yes, I would do it again. But no, please don't assume it's a piece of cake. I am proud of myself for going twice a year to improve my health. I am much better than where I was last year. Had I not taken this decision, I would have still been at home suffering tremendously and complaining pathetically.
THE GOOD PARTS OF MY TRIP
As much of the trip was challenging, I am also blessed in many ways. I am an individual that continues to fight the fight. So after any fall, you will see me rise back with a smile.
I made sure to greet myself well each morning. I would meditate each morning (and night), take selfies on the rooftop, and enjoy a hearty breakfast before my day every day.
The hotel crew has become very dear to me. They took such good care of me on my first trip and this trip; let's say they became family to me. They allocated time to help me through my emotions when crying in my hotel room. They tried to cheer me up and ensured I had everything I needed. Staying in a hotel where they know you so well, preparing your favorite breakfast, cheering you up, and showing you love and support is comforting. Before and after each surgery, I felt so comfy that they would be the first faces I saw and returned to after surgery. I knew I was in good hands.
My dentist won my heart multiple times. He took me out of devastation and misery. So once I arrived in his office, I always felt calmer as I trusted him wholeheartedly. He was very patient with me. He spoke to me during the entire process, and he kept me calm the whole time. He carries much empathy. I could not imagine ever being in anyone else's chair. He is very well knowledged, and the work of his hands is remarkable. I admit surgery is complicated..but with Dr. Mehmet Eskan, it was more relaxed and trustworthy. I am truly blessed. God is good.
After my last surgery, I spent two days walking around different mosques and staying close to the hotel. I enjoyed my peace of mind.
As hard as the anxiety was, I made many new friends and spent quality time with friends I made last November. Having friends around you makes it a whole lot easier.
I exchanged many smiles and enjoyed some beautiful days out there. I completed everything on my to-do list and more.
I am sure my good friends would want me to enjoy myself where and when I can rather than experiencing anxiety for all two weeks. That's no way to live. We have to learn that our right to smile is already earned.
So Back to my INVOLUNTARY tears
So what happened? Why did my body burst out, tearing without my understanding or knowledge?
Because my lengthy treacherous traumatic chapter was coming to a close, it was the end of my grieving, and while I should have tears of joy; there were much rather tears of bravery, proudness, and astonishment, that I 'ANEELA' held firm and in the end, I accomplished my goal to be healthy once again.
The pain was hard; the mental torture was more brutal
The decision to risk surgery going to another country was hard
Missing my family
Surgeries
Learning new ways and cultures
Meeting new people, creating and strengthening new relationships
Building a more robust version of myself
Learning to solve my problems alone
Dealing with anxiety
Assessing who was there for me during my most horrid times
Traveling there in fear
Traveling home sick as a dog and ending up in the emergency hospital
Fulfilling my list
Remembering to smile during it all, the whole fucken year and a half: that's what made me cry involuntarily.
BECAUSE I WAS SO PROUD OF MYSELF FOR REACHING THE FINISH LINE REGARDLESS OF THE HURDLES. I DID IT!
p.s. (I am still in recovery pain as my body went through a lot. And I can still see who understands I need rest, feeling slow and experiencing sensory overload. I am very comfortable now weaning off those that were selfish/absent during my tumultuous year.) I don't need to say anything to anyone. The world shows you the truth.
Those who stood by me and cried with me, uplifted me, stayed in touch, worried for me, and prayed for me; are my only future. I love you in a capacity no words can depict.
Forever indebted to my health success,
