I've written before about the fact that pain and depression are insidious partners. We all know that it's hard not to experience at least some depression when we live in pain day in and day out. I have recently felt myself slipping into a depression and I am fighting very hard not to let it consume me. As some of you know, I recently have been going through some health issues which are not completely related to my pain issues. I have been to the emergency room three times in less than three weeks, twice for dehydration and once because my blood pressure was through the roof.
I also went to see a new doctor. I had high hopes that this doctor was going to be a perfect fit for me. The doctor was a woman, which I liked, and she and I are the same age. The paperwork was very much in depth. It asked the usual questions about your health, but it also asked about your diet, exercise levels, and any past trauma. And of course, it asked about any surgeries that you have had. My brain surgery as an infant is always the first thing that I put down, and the one that usually elicits the most questions. I answered all questions honestly. Obviously, my diet isn't the best, and exercise is a distant memory. I also told her about my sexual molestation as a child and an assault that I suffered as an adult.
I really didn't expect the last two things to be a big deal. Not many doctors, with the exception of psychiatrists, dwell on that sort of thing. As usual, she asked me a great deal of questions, and she asked me to explain my brain surgery to her. I went through all of the details, including the fact that I wasn't expected to survive. And, then I noticed her smile, which was just filled with pity! I do not like pity! She actually looked at me, and said something like, "You just had an awful start and it didn't get much better, did it?" I didn't like that, and it didn't bode well for the rest of the questionnaire, in my opinion.
So, we came to the molestations and the abuse. I have made no secret about the fact that I was molested twice when I was around seven years old. A neighbors grandfather fondled me and then the 13 year old across the street raped me. I was 22 before I told anyone about what had happened, and luckily, I was believed. But back to the doctor. She asked me all sorts of questions about what had happened, and I told her everything about it. Once again, I saw that smile filled with pity. Next, she asked me about the assault.
I don't talk about that very much, not because I'm ashamed of it, but because it isn't something that I like to dwell on. This happened in 2003, approximately three months before my back surgery. A friend of Dale's was over at the house on New Year's Day. I could tell that he was messed up, but I assumed that he was still drunk from the night before. I hadn't been around people who used drugs, and I found out the next day that he was using meth. Anyway, I was tired of the way he was acting and I told him to either go sleep it off, or get the hell out of my house. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say! The next thing I knew, this man punched me in the face as hard as he could, and he just kept punching. I tried to defend myself, but it was almost pointless.
At one point, I passed out and fell forward. When I did, it moved him back just enough that Dale was able to dive out of his wheelchair and drag this man to the ground. My youngest son was on the phone with 911 and Dale had the bastard in a headlock on the ground. I stepped across them and got to the phone. The next thing I knew, the man got away from Dale and went running for the front door, slamming my son into the wall as he ran past him. Blood was streaming from my face, Dale was trying to wipe my face, and the police were running into my house. The man was arrested, and spent 8 months in jail for the assault.
I was taken to the hospital, where I discovered that my nose was broken, an earring was ripped from my ear, and I was deeply in shock. I had to have stitches to put my ear back together and eventually, I had to have surgery to fix my nose. Obviously, this was an incredible trauma, and it still comes back to me on occasion.
So, back to the doctor. She looked at me and that pitying smile was back across her face, replacing the shock that had been there while I was telling the story. She mentioned that I had been through so much trauma in my life, and I agreed with her, but told her that I had dealt with it through a great deal of therapy. She then looked at me and told me that my molestation was the reason that I am not in good health, including causing my chronic pain! I couldn't believe it! She went on to tell me that she didn't believe in pain medicine or anti-anxiety medicine, but that she was going to get me through it and that was that, as far as she was concerned.
I know that it wasn't her intent, at least I don't think that it was, but she made me feel that all my health problems were my fault. It was almost like she was saying that my back wouldn't be a mess, my knees wouldn't be shot, and my blood pressure wouldn't be out of control, if only I hadn't been through all of this. I was absolutely in shock over everything. I felt that I had dealt with all of this, and in less than 20 minutes, she brought everything back, including the shock and the depression. And all of this was before she even started to examine me physically! I was looking for a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist!
Needless to say, she isn't the right doctor for me, and I have to start the process of finding a new doctor all over again. I have trust issues, needless to say, and the ability to trust my doctor is essential for me. In one fell swoop, she destroyed my ability to trust her. I have to have a doctor, but I don't even want to think about seeing another one. And now, I am in the throes of a major depression, all because I tried to find a new doctor.
I know that this will pass, and I will get through it. I'm a strong person. I know this because many people wouldn't be able to live through all of the things that I have without being incredible strong. I just didn't need someone telling me that all of my health problems were the result of the things I have lived through. I don't believe this. If I did, I don't think that I could keep putting one foot in front of the other every single day. I'm going to get through this, because I don't like the alternative. Unfortunately, it's going to take me a while to get past this one.
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