4.7.17

About Me: Phobias

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Phobias are a bitch, you have two voices sitting on your shoulders, one is rational but the other tells you to run as fast as you can. I can pin point the very moment my phobias were triggered, in a dentist chair I was refused my Mothers presence in the room and was held down whilst I cried. I was left with zero trust in medical professionals and as I grew up I became more and more wary and anxious.

I’m the person who faints in the waiting room. I’m the person who breaks down in tears when I can’t cope and feel overwhelmed with emotions. I fear pain and needles, I fear not being in control, I fear having no one to rescue me and I fear not being able to escape.

I’ve been told I should be embarrassed at my behaviour, I’ve been told to grow up and I’ve been mocked for crying. I’ve had a nurse scan my records, ask me if I have children (I don't have any a decision I made a long time ago) then tell me “I can tell you don't as no parent would act as you are now”. I was fuming and insulted, I never spoke up for myself I was so ashamed.

I’m currently recovering from surgery. I made it. My heart is pounding.

This point has been a year and a half long journey. I self diagnosed but put off seeing a doctor because I knew I would face surgery if I was correct. I eventually had courage to make an appointment, my diagnosis was confirmed before Christmas and then I refused treatment. The pain and sickness came again and I had to face my fear, I was referred to the hospital. Four months later I saw a surgeon and then I was officially on a wait list. I started to have panic attacks. The stress had become overwhelming, the date was looming. I freaked out, my appointment was threaten with cancellation, my surgeon was mildly understanding, I was offered medication which I refused. Ironically I was anxious about anxiety drugs and I never took them. Phobias don’t make sense to outsiders. 

The night before I didn’t sleep, I was exhausted. I sat in the car and refused to get out. I made the walk to the hospital door, I got into the waiting room, I made in to the bed and I put on a gown. I cried on the operating table. I woke up with my husband beside me. 

I’m anxious about recovery, I’ve cried out in pain and I am not a good patient. 

I am looking forward and trying to stay positive. My surgery was routine, no need to worry, a walk in the park they told me. I was never facing serious illness, it was a common problem and my body had simply malfunctioned with age (the joys of reaching 40!). My day in hospital re-plays in my head like a bad movie, rewind and repeat but I desperately want to delete it.

No matter how routine the procedure it was a huge step for me. I gave myself a pat on the back then a massive sigh of relief and a vow to never do it again.

Sarah x

5 comments:

  1. It seems that you went through some tough times Sarah, sorry to hear that. I wish you a good recovery.

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  2. I'm so very sorry to hear about your harrowing journey with this surgery. I work in healthcare (in the US) and can say from the inside that there are many caring professionals. I can also say that there are those who make awful comments, do things without thinking and respond poorly to patients who are anxious or angry or both. They are very uncomfortable with vulnerability and strong feelings. I'm glad you are on the road to recovery. Be compassionate with yourself and take it a say.

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  3. Must be such a relief the hospital part is over with for the meantime. Sending healing wishes your way x

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    Replies
    1. a huge weight of my mind, thank you for reaching out to me beforehand that was appreciated x

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