I'm now into 7 months of therapy. It is fucking exhausting and painful and slow and rewarding. Between therapy weekly, house hunting, a promotion at work, taking a college class, and training/starting a second job I feel constantly tired but that's a whole other problem.
A few weeks ago I had built up and worked hard in and outside of therapy towards going to the doctor myself and going to the doctor with my husband. He has kidney disease and was meeting with a new specialist.
My appointment went well. I made it through having my blood pressure taken (extremely triggering for me) and the only bad part of the appointment was when the doctor touched my inner arm. The big running theme I'm finding is that the underside of my arm being touched or exposed, especially doctors and nurses is a huge trigger.
My husbands appointment didn't go as well for me. The appointment started off well. I had chamomile tea before hand and when the nurse checked his blood pressure I did some deep breathing to stay calm. The specialists assistant came in and we went over the background. I got up once to use the restroom and to calm myself down. I came back and lasted a few minutes before I started getting lightheaded. I excused myself and decided that I should go to the lobby waiting area. The hospital we were at is known for how large it was and I quickly made two wrong turns and couldn't even find my way back to the room we were in. At this point I caught a glimpse into a patients room, saw something, and started to blackout. I made it through a hallway where I found two nurses. The only thoughts going through my head were that I was about to pass out, I was going to end up with an IV (my worst nightmare), and that I didn't have identification on me and my husband wouldn't find me. All of these sound far fetched but not when anxiety has taken over. I approached the two nurses and mumbled something about having anxiety about doctors and hospitals and started to collapse. They were able to take me into a side room and lay me down with a pillow. When I came to they had found a doctor. They took my vitals and monitored me. Even the passing out wasn't that bad and I almost feel that it was meant to be. The doctor complimented me on seeing someone about the anxiety and said she could tell I was doing controlled breathing even while passing out. She also talked to me about how therapy is great but sometimes with anxiety meds are something to consider until you can use the tools learned in therapy in the environment that causes anxiety which is something I am now considering. This is all pretty forward thinking for a doctor because I still get doctors that act like I'm making up my anxiety issues with doctors.
Another thing that has come up in therapy was a memory I had clearly blocked out. My therapist was asking about how I feel about going to a dentist as my next homework. I started talking about the therapist I had seen growing up and how he had pushed for my mom to sedate me for visits because I had been difficult. In that moment I remembered the first time I saw a Novocain shot. I had freaked out. The memory I had blocked out that came to me was that the dentist had then held my nose and lectured me about being good and that if I didn't stop I'd have to come back and do it all again. I don't remember if he finished the procedure or if I passed out or what. I do know that I never told my mom and he never told my mom. I continued to see him all through my childhood and even recently. It makes me extra angry because my mom still feels guilt about giving me the pill to be sedated. She felt the pressure that I needed this work done for my health and that I was just being difficult. I ended up telling my mom about this memory coming back and she said "I hope you at least bit him."