Following Through

  "Patience can persuade a prince, and soft speech can break bones." Proverbs 25:15

  I sent a letter to the hospital. There's been no response but the patient advocacy office could be busy. They might need to do their own investigation while being concerned with the potential of wrong doing by one of their doctors. I tried to not blame the doctor or the hospital, that's not why I wrote them. It was to simply question why there was a lack of any sort of anesthetic for the removal of a large polyp.

  Like always, the ole second guessing part of me ends up running full tilt. Should I have said anything? Have I offended anyone? What if the doctor wasn't prepared to find what he did? 

  What I find most interesting is these questions are part of an age old understanding that speaking up for myself is a punishable offense. It has left me feeling very fearful but of nothing in particular. It's a general sense that there will be pushback and punishment.

 On the heels of that lay a far more disturbing question. Why on earth didn't I stop the doctor from continuing the procedure in light of the excruciating pain he was inflicting? Why did I feel I wasn't allowed to stop him?

  What is wrong with me?

  

  Because feeling pain is for my own good. Like when I had my appendix out as a teen. After spending the day home from school with an uncommonly sore stomach, my mom took me to the doctors when she got home from work. He had to assess if this was the issue so he investigated the area. The pain exploded in my belly. 

  What happened after that is pretty vague but I do remember every single pothole in the road and speeding over the train tracks on the way to the hospital. My dad was driving. The speed limit didn't matter. 

  I also remember being wheeled down the hallway to the operating room. Christmas balls and tinsel adorned the ceiling. 

  Because my pain and discomfort is considered an inconvenience, an exaggeration. 

  Because there have been people in my life who enjoy inflicting pain. 

  Because my role was to take it.

  Because any sort of attention was better than no attention at all. 

  Because tattle telling is one of the biggest social taboos on the planet: a child's code of silence.

  Because being grown up means keeping things to yourself. It means sucking up the pain and getting the job done.

  Because there is nothing worse than not being believed.

  Oh, yes there is...it's being blamed for being in pain regardless of what caused it in the first place.

  It's no wonder I couldn't stop the gynecologist, the doctor, this male authority figure because my stop button has been crushed under the footsteps of experience.

  It isn't completely unsalvageable though. 

  It's simply going to take some repairs to get it operational: sandpaper to remove all the corrosion, oil to free the movement, a polishing cloth to make the lens shine, and a new light bulb. Rewiring the button is the most complicated thing of all but I rest in the assurance that Jesus will help me sort all that out.

  I think I'll add some sort of sound to it...a foghorn claxon so people can actually hear me when I say, "Enough!"

  Because Jesus says I am worth it.

  And the held back, silenced tears finally begin to fall because this whole experience has been far more traumatic than I cared to admit or even address.

  This sucks.

  

 

Advocacy

   "Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow." Psalm 25:6

  A new laptop is up and running for the most part. Apparently I need to purchase a Microsoft package to get Word, etc. to be able to use their programs. It's a bit frustrating because I need to write a letter. It's an important letter. To a doctor. 

Warning: The contents of this post may be disturbing for some readers.

  In mid October I had a small procedure to remove a large polyp. It was growing in a place unnoticed until I had a long overdue physical. My family doctor found it during her internal exam. She assured me it is a common occurrence in women but would require the services of a gynecologist for its removal.

  I had to wait a few weeks to see him but before I went I returned to my family doctor to request something to "take the edge off." I don't do well riding the stirrups especially if a male doctor is involved. She was more than willing to prescribe something because it would appear this is a common request.

  My appointment was at our local hospital so I showed up on time with the friend who drove me there. Most of the edges had been smoothed by the magic pill. The gynecologist was on time, too.

  Before he started, I told him I had taken something to help me stay calm. I also informed him I was a sexual abuse survivor and that being exposed is very difficult for me. He thanked me for sharing this information with him.

  He explained what he was about to do. 

  A small tool with a grabber on the end is used to pull the polyp tight then a scalpel cuts it free. My family doctor had already told me what to expect but it was good to hear it again.

  There was no freezing.

  The pain went from knees to armpits as he grabbed and pulled and sliced. Because it was a large polyp, about the size of my thumb, he struggled to get all of it.

  There was no freezing.

  I sobbed and couldn't help but cry out as I lay there.

  My cries triggered a part of my past I had hoped was laid to rest.

  Yet I never moved. I never said, "STOP!"

  It's taken me the last couple of months to be able to think about all that happened on the examination table.

  The doctor apologized when he was done. I've had that kind of apology before, " I am sorry, I never meant to hurt you..." It's not about me at all.

  I want to write to him because I have a slew of questions. 

  I live in a first world country. Dentists use a topical spray to numb the gums before using a needle to inject freezing. A mole isn't removed without freezing. Stitches aren't administered without it either. So why was there nothing used in this most sensitive part of a women's anatomy?

  Am I angry?

  Yes. 

  Is it because it was only a woman's procedure that there was no consideration for the pain being inflicted? Is it because the Doctor wasn't prepared for the scope of what needed removing? Is it because his time is far too important to put the brakes on to get what I needed? 

  Is it because I'd taken something to ease my nerves he thought that was sufficient?

  If this happened to me, how many other women have suffered?

  How many other women have accepted this type of treatment because we are, after all, just women.

  Oh. The Lord just reminded me: the hospital has a patient advocacy office. I'm going to give them a call.

  You know what scares me the most?

  The polyp might grow back.

  

  

Obey

   "How great is the goodness You have stored up for those who fear You. You lavish it on those who come to you for protection...You shelter them in Your presence, far from accusing tongues."Psalm 31:19-20

   My laptop fan has decided to stop working. Which means the machine won't stay on so I am using my cell phone to do today's post. This merely slows the thought processes down which is a good thing especially when things are rising up in a flood.

  There have been a couple of situations lately that stirred up a whack of resentment and a deep sadness. I've been left feeling unheard and trapped by other's demands and expectations; expectations where I feel I have no choice except to toe the line like I always have.

  This is nothing new. What is new is the realization that obedience is so ingrained into my behavior, it leaves no room for self determination. Obedience obliterates my ability to choose.

  The bigger issue is not having my decisions respected when I summon up the courage to actally say what I need or want. 

   It's not easy to voice these things. Historically they were of little to no consequence to the important people in my life. A child must do as they are told. A wife must obey their spouse.

  But I am neither a child nor a spouse...so why does the injunction to obey still have such power? 

  I think I have been brain washed and gaslit and controlled until obedience is  automatic and unquestioning. 

  It's a good thing I am writing today because awareness is the first step of change.

  Those who are used to holding all the power aren't going to like this one bit.

  

  Lord, protect me. In Jesus' name, Amen!