Decompressing and deconstructing
It took over 36 hours for my emotional flux to calm down to something approaching manageable, but I think I'm finally able to look at how I reacted to the disaster at the hospital on Tuesday and analyze a bit of what happened.
I don't like my surgeon. I don't mean for what happened at the hospital, but in general. When I met him at my consultation he had my hackles up... just one of those people you meet and automatically rubs you the wrong way without it being anything specific. It's an emotional response, but definitely underlying. I also found him condescending and dismissive, like my complaints and wishes weren't valid. He didn't feel that 4 days of debilitating pain a month was enough to warrant surgery nor the ineffectiveness of other methods I had tried significant enough to want a better option. He was definitely reluctant to approve my surgery and I think this has fed into a fear for months that he would say no completely in the end. That is what the cancellation on Tuesday felt like, all my fears come true. Even now, I'm scared I'm going to turn up at the hospital tomorrow and be told he's reconsidered and is refusing to do the surgery altogether.
That leads into control. I have a massive need for control in my life. I live alone, I make my own choices and deal with things on my own. Giving up that control to someone else is hard, harder still when it's someone I don't trust. The rawest truth is, I don't trust my surgeon. That's a terrible thing, isn't it? The person I'm to let cut me open and tinker with my insides is someone I fundamentally don't trust. I can appreciate that he has skills most people don't and I know I need him, but I don't trust him.
I approached this operation from a purely cis-gendered perspective, because I didn't want to have to jump from the additional hoops of outing myself to the medical community as GQ. People don't get that and think you are broken and need months or years of therapy to know your mind. I have enough purely medical reasons to want my uterus out without trying to fight the Saskatchewan small mindedness on top of it. I had considered, pre-consult, telling him, but once I met him big flashing lights and sirens in my brain said NO! It's an instinct I trust. I still think that if I disclosed completely I would be the worse for it.
There is also the issue of touch. He patted my knee and my shoulder, twice. I DID NOT like this. At all. A visceral reaction. Even 5 months later, I still get sensory flashbacks to my pre-op exam, which was painful and triggering. Him touching me in fairly innocuous places was still triggering. I wasn't in a mental place where I could tell him not to touch me, though. I would think it was me being ridiculous, but the thing is, the nurse who did my IV and found me a quiet room to fall apart in and took out my IV... she held my hand and rubbed my back and it was fine. I don't think I would have felt the same about all of the nurses in the ward, though they were all kind, but her and the guy who had done my bloodwork at my pre-op were fine. I know I don't like much physical contact with people. I find it hard to get close enough to someone to find a one-armed hug comfortable. Perhaps the description the people I found alright have in common is professional and compassionate. I could tell that they genuinely cared and knew what they were doing and how to treat me. I had asked them to call me Rowan except when it was necessary to use my legal name, and she was so good about it.
So how to go forward... I still have some questions that didn't get answered, which was what I had initially thought my surgeon was coming to talk about when he dropped his miserable bombshell, but I don't want to see him before the surgery. At all. I really don't. I want to tell my mind that it is someone else who is doing the surgery and if I don't have to see him, then I can pretend it isn't him doing it. I will ask the nurse to be my go between if that isn't too selfish. I think I remember my nurse telling me she would be on the ward on Friday, so if it is possible, I will request her. I feel comfortable with her, even if she did have to stick me twice to get the IV in. I will also tell the staff that I don't like being touched and if they could please ask me first. It wasn't something I had thought of until I was triggered, but I really should have given all my apprehensions. Lastly, I'm considering coming out to my nurse... at least after the surgery is over. I'll be stuck in the hospital overnight and I'm considering the benefits of people knowing, at least those who will actually be in contact with me.
Thanks to everyone for their kind thoughts and thank you to whoever sent me the virtual cookie. It's silly, I know, but I'm super touched. Going through all this relatively alone where I am is tough and I know I'm not going to be getting flowers and cards from anyone. I made a post on the hystersisters forum I joined hoping for support and all it did was make me worse when they said, 'don't be by yourself' as if it was a state I could avoid. It's probably the wrong place for me, but I had to join to read all of their articles, which on the whole are pretty good.
I'm going to try this one more time tomorrow. I hope everything goes smoothly this time. I'm really not sure what I'll do if it doesn't, but I think 'bit not good' would certainly cover it.
I don't like my surgeon. I don't mean for what happened at the hospital, but in general. When I met him at my consultation he had my hackles up... just one of those people you meet and automatically rubs you the wrong way without it being anything specific. It's an emotional response, but definitely underlying. I also found him condescending and dismissive, like my complaints and wishes weren't valid. He didn't feel that 4 days of debilitating pain a month was enough to warrant surgery nor the ineffectiveness of other methods I had tried significant enough to want a better option. He was definitely reluctant to approve my surgery and I think this has fed into a fear for months that he would say no completely in the end. That is what the cancellation on Tuesday felt like, all my fears come true. Even now, I'm scared I'm going to turn up at the hospital tomorrow and be told he's reconsidered and is refusing to do the surgery altogether.
That leads into control. I have a massive need for control in my life. I live alone, I make my own choices and deal with things on my own. Giving up that control to someone else is hard, harder still when it's someone I don't trust. The rawest truth is, I don't trust my surgeon. That's a terrible thing, isn't it? The person I'm to let cut me open and tinker with my insides is someone I fundamentally don't trust. I can appreciate that he has skills most people don't and I know I need him, but I don't trust him.
I approached this operation from a purely cis-gendered perspective, because I didn't want to have to jump from the additional hoops of outing myself to the medical community as GQ. People don't get that and think you are broken and need months or years of therapy to know your mind. I have enough purely medical reasons to want my uterus out without trying to fight the Saskatchewan small mindedness on top of it. I had considered, pre-consult, telling him, but once I met him big flashing lights and sirens in my brain said NO! It's an instinct I trust. I still think that if I disclosed completely I would be the worse for it.
There is also the issue of touch. He patted my knee and my shoulder, twice. I DID NOT like this. At all. A visceral reaction. Even 5 months later, I still get sensory flashbacks to my pre-op exam, which was painful and triggering. Him touching me in fairly innocuous places was still triggering. I wasn't in a mental place where I could tell him not to touch me, though. I would think it was me being ridiculous, but the thing is, the nurse who did my IV and found me a quiet room to fall apart in and took out my IV... she held my hand and rubbed my back and it was fine. I don't think I would have felt the same about all of the nurses in the ward, though they were all kind, but her and the guy who had done my bloodwork at my pre-op were fine. I know I don't like much physical contact with people. I find it hard to get close enough to someone to find a one-armed hug comfortable. Perhaps the description the people I found alright have in common is professional and compassionate. I could tell that they genuinely cared and knew what they were doing and how to treat me. I had asked them to call me Rowan except when it was necessary to use my legal name, and she was so good about it.
So how to go forward... I still have some questions that didn't get answered, which was what I had initially thought my surgeon was coming to talk about when he dropped his miserable bombshell, but I don't want to see him before the surgery. At all. I really don't. I want to tell my mind that it is someone else who is doing the surgery and if I don't have to see him, then I can pretend it isn't him doing it. I will ask the nurse to be my go between if that isn't too selfish. I think I remember my nurse telling me she would be on the ward on Friday, so if it is possible, I will request her. I feel comfortable with her, even if she did have to stick me twice to get the IV in. I will also tell the staff that I don't like being touched and if they could please ask me first. It wasn't something I had thought of until I was triggered, but I really should have given all my apprehensions. Lastly, I'm considering coming out to my nurse... at least after the surgery is over. I'll be stuck in the hospital overnight and I'm considering the benefits of people knowing, at least those who will actually be in contact with me.
Thanks to everyone for their kind thoughts and thank you to whoever sent me the virtual cookie. It's silly, I know, but I'm super touched. Going through all this relatively alone where I am is tough and I know I'm not going to be getting flowers and cards from anyone. I made a post on the hystersisters forum I joined hoping for support and all it did was make me worse when they said, 'don't be by yourself' as if it was a state I could avoid. It's probably the wrong place for me, but I had to join to read all of their articles, which on the whole are pretty good.
I'm going to try this one more time tomorrow. I hope everything goes smoothly this time. I'm really not sure what I'll do if it doesn't, but I think 'bit not good' would certainly cover it.