When I lost my breasts and the doctors found another infection during the first attempt at reconstruction (see my post on Losing A Part Of My Identity As A Woman), it was pretty traumatizing for me. I had looked forward to having small bumps for breasts, at least it would have been a start. Instead I had to wait an additional eight weeks to try again as I had to be completely healed from the first try. This meant I had to start my new job bussing tables before my second attempt at reconstructive surgery happened. My chest still appeared to be somewhat caved in where my boobs should have been so I stuffed a bra and went to work.
Lately it seems that with each new specialist/doctor I see I inevitably start crying. I did it with the arthritis specialist, the dentist, the periodontist, OBGYN and the urologist. I was talking to my thereapist about it because it was fairly new behaviour (last couple of years) where I had always been so stoic before. She chalked it up to having had to go through the medical trauma with my breasts and that they still look weird with scars across each breast and no nipples. What she said made a lot of sense to me, and I know I can’t be the only person who has experienced medical trauma; I know I can’t be the only one to cry with each new doctor and/or test.
Currently I am having some reproductive and incontinence issues, hence the specialists. I have multiple uterine fibroids and I am constantly leaking urine. One of the reasons I could be incontinent is the uterine firbroids but since there were also a couple of very small, very minor cysts in my bladder the OBGYN sent me to a urologist for a second opnion and possible biopsy of one of the cysts. Because of past trauma (my breasts started out as just one cyst in one breast) I was acutely anxious and it was obvious enough for the nurse to ask me if I was nervous. Taking my therapist’s suggestion, I started to explain that I have had medical trauma in the past and, of course, I started crying.
The nurse and doctor were great and calmed my nerves but even now and until that biopsy comes back I am still imagining the worst. I watch for the mail every day as I am waiting for my next appointments with the urologist and OBGYN for follow up, and with each day that goes by I need to remind myself that these things take time, especially during a pandemic, and that this isn’t my breasts.
My Phoenix Rising 