Isn’t that a dandy name for a blog post. How about dental cleaning, dental work, x-rays, mammo, or anything where someone is coming at my body. Can’t wait for cataract surgery, which I hope to be a few years off.
Though I may have forgiven my ‘brothers’, or at least moved on and found peace, I’m still left with the effects and damage from what they’ve done. I face many challenges and I guess that will be continue life-long. It seems to get harder, not easier.
We are all left with wounds from childhood. As adults it’s our work to heal from them best we can. But I can’t make everything as it might have been had I not been touched. Parts of me were forever changed. My work goes on.
It takes more sedation than most to lie back in a dental chair or on a stretcher while someone comes at me to hurt me, even if it is for my own benefit. Try telling that to the little girl inside me who still can’t allow the memories to surface. But the repressed memories are there, and/or the ones I do remember which are traumatic enough. My instincts kick in, fight or flight, and they say, “RUN!”
I can advocate for others, my kids for example, and for the developmentally disabled when I worked as an RN, but not myself. But I’m learning. After more than one bad or needless procedure, I am learning speak up. It’s not easy finding the right doctor with good staff, with ability, kindness and compassion; the whole package, a rare commodity, and hard to find these days.
But I found one. And I advocated for myself. She readily understood and agreed to a higher level of anesthesia. There is one available that is a step down from general anesthesia. One that is effective for me. Medications that usually are used for this procedure and knock most people out, don’t touch me. My adrenaline eats it up. I may appear calm, but the stream of tears coursing down my face, releasing my terror, tells a different story.
But tomorrow I’m ok, even receiving sedation prior to the procedure to quell my panic while I wait.