I'd made a mistake moving from Montreal to British Columbia in search of better health care. In one of the most beautiful places in the world my health took a serious downturn under the "care" of Doctor Nightmare, who seems to have enjoyed writing her non-medical observations and opinions ((i.e., "hennaed hair"; "loquacious"; "dresses dramatically") and referring to me as "the worried well" while failing to inform me of the results of an ex-ray that she ordered showing degeneration of my spine (along with a note that therapy should be considered), which was the reason for the terrible pain I was experiencing, the main reason I had sought medical care in the first place. The pain in my back and legs was accompanied by a severe depression. What I didn't know at the time (or I would not have gone to British Columbia) was that I was being undermined by people in my own natal family. The two most senior members of that family, my parents, were dead, my father in 1996 and my mother in the summer of 2006. It's ironic that the money I inherited from my mother provided me with the means to begin my first Journey of Healing in the fall of that year.
I had been working two days a week cleaning the Sunnycrest Mall in Gibsons, and living in a 10'X10' cabin on Mt. Elphinstone. The cabin was built as a guest cabin by one of the two self-described "mountain men" who were squatting the land. The encampment was approximately 1.5 miles up the mountain (I was told by one of the mountain men). The trail was steep and required some climbing skill. Having been diagnosed with osteoporosis, and not knowing that my spine was already damaged, I had undertaken some serious "weight-bearing exercise." Beside hauling heavy garbage and flinging it up into a dumpster at the mall, I was carrying 50 pounds of food up the mountain in my backpack, my weekly contribution to the common food supply, and helping to secure firewood.