Doctors, Doctors, Doctors

So, as you can probably guess from my post title, I've been seeing a lot of doctors lately. It has been crazy and I've paid a fortune in co pays alone. Besides my primary care physician I have five other doctors, all of which are specialists. I have a rheumatologist, a orthopedic physician, a gastroenterologist, a gynecologist, and a physical therapist. And guess what! I just found out last night that my old endocrinologist has moved from her old location, close to where I used to live, 100 miles from my current home, and has moved just down the road from me. Well yay, another doctor! lol I probably should schedule an appointment with her some time. She put me on Metformin, which caused me to lose like 10 pounds. However, around hectic finals time senior year of college I missed my follow up appointment with her and never saw her again because I graduated from college shortly after and had a crazy hectic PTSD and healing filled summer. I ran out of my prescription and my weight loss went with it lol. I gained the 10 pounds back too. Most of my current doctors are telling that if I'd lose weight it would help my symptoms, maybe not cure me, but it would definitely would help. Hmmmm, hard to do that when extreme weight gain and retention is one of my symptoms lol. But no doctor believes that.

I saw my physical therapist this morning. She said my strength and range of motion were pretty good. She gave me a series of knee exercises to help strength my knee muscles. Hopefully that will help my knee problems. I also learned that it's okay to exercise my knees. I freaked a little when my orthopedic physician told me I'm probably wearing away valuable cartilage in my knees. My logic followed that the more I exercised my knees, the more cartilage I would wear away. Now that I know that exercise is okay and an important part of treatment I'm not so afraid. I was having images in my head of me losing all my cartilage and having to have knee replacement surgery at a very young age. I definitely didn't want that.

Through all this medical stuff, I've learned something, and, even now, it sounds weird coming from me. I've learned that I'm strong. My friends have told me that I'm strong to have survived the abuse I went through most of my life. I've been told that I'm super strong and brave for facing my past and choosing to actively heal from it. I didn't believe them. All I did was survive. I thought that if I was strong I would have fought off my attackers, I would have had the courage to tell earlier, I wouldn't have PTSD. But now, I'm starting to see this strength they're telling me about. I've seen a lot of doctors lately and gone through a lot of tests and procedures. A lot of these crossed the boundary into triggering reactions from my PTSD because of my past. I've been poked and prodded and stuck with needles and much worse, invasive things. I can see now that going through all of this is very strong, given my past. I'm facing it though is scares me when any doctor touches me, even if its just on the shoulder. I've gone through procedures that were so terrifiyingly similar to what was done to me in my past that I've cried and lost sleep, but I still went through with it. I didn't hide from it. I showed up and faced what I had to go through to find answers to my health problems. That's both strong and brave. I've also started to stand up for myself. I am a sexual abuse survivor. We don't handle medical settings very well a lot of the time. There's such an imbalance of power between patient and doctor, sometimes clothes must be removed, sometimes you have to be exposed, sometimes invasive things must be done, and sometimes, doctors are callous and disrespectful. I've been disrespected and hurt by doctors in the past. I was afraid to stand up for myself. Now, I can see that they have no right to do that to me. I have the right to say no, to demand sensitive care, to be treated with respect and dignity. I've learned to be open about my past and proactive in securing what I need to feel safe for procedures and in informing doctors and nurses in what is okay and what is not okay when it comes to my care. Standing up for yourself is one of the most healing and self respectful things a survivor of sexual abuse can do. I directly contradicts the way we were treated when we were abused. In abuse, I didn't have any control over the situation and I was hurt. There was nothing I could do. Now, I can take charge and be in control of what is done to my body.

God is healing me in amazing ways. I wouldn't be where I am without Him. He's the one who has shown me my value in His eyes and He's the One who has made me strong. I can be brave because my bravery comes from Him. I am strong because He is my strength. One day, not long ago, I heard Him speak directly to me. I heard His voice, not with my ears, but with my heart. I was receiving communion at a friend's church. It happened suddenly and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it didn't come from my own mind or imagination. I heard God speaking to me and His voice sounded like He was smiling as He said it. He said: "You are Mine. I love you and I am sooooo proud of you." I was so shocked to hear this. Not only was I hearing the voice of the King of Kings, the Creator of the Universe, but I was hearing Him say that I was His, that He loves me, and craziest of all, that He's proud of me. There's this huge sense of awe that overwhelms you when God not only speaks to you so clearly, but He tells you that He's proud of you. I was so confused. I didn't understand what I had done to make God proud of me. But I've realized I don't have to do anything to make Him proud of me. Because of Jesus, in God's eyes I am perfectly sinless, innocent, and beautiful. I love God and I'm trying to follow His will for my life. That has led me down some painful paths and to some rough places but I haven't quit. I haven't quit because He is my strength and He leads me, but at the same time, He's proud of me for following Him. There is no one else on the face of the planet that is worthy of all the trust that we are called to trust God. But when we do trust Him, He is proud of us. Though He does all the hard stuff (making all things work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28), He is proud of us when we walk by faith. We walk by faith, and don't get me wrong that is a super hard thing to do, but when we walk by faith, God is the solid ground we're walking on. I'm not downplaying how hard life is. To human beings, just living on earth is the hardest thing you can ever do. We don't have it easy, but God does things that only God can do. We can't help ourselves, we can't save ourselves. We don't have that strength or power. But God does and He saves us. It's just so amazing that God does so many awesome things that are beyond my ability and comprehension. But when I step out and trust in the Creator of the universe, the One who controls gravity itself, He is proud of me. That just blows my mind.

SimplyLifebyFaith

-J

Lexington, Changes, and Grief

I know it's been a very long time since I posted. That was due to several factors. First of all, I didn't have my computer. I lent it to my college roommate because her computer stopped working. I didn't have internet at home and I visited her a lot at the dorm so it made the most sense. However, without my computer at home I stopped writing. All the times I felt like writing were times I was home away from my computer. Another reason was that my PTSD got really really bad after my last post and I kinda dropped off the face of blogging. I hurt so badly and I reexperienced my trauma so vividly over the rest of the summer that I was in no shape to keep up a blog. I was honestly doing good to get in one solid meal a day.

Now, I'm not sure that I'm doing much better. I've gone through some really stressful and emotional days lately. I just moved 100 miles away from home. I went from a tiny town to the big city, far away from what I'm used to. My college roommate moved with me and we're splitting the rent and expenses on a little apartment in the heart of the big city. I decided to take a year off school. I couldn't handle moving to the big city, finding a job, working, going to school in another town, and dealing with the level of PTSD that I was going through. It has taken a huge load off my shoulders and I thank those people who helped me make the best decision for me. I am still not fully unpacked. I'm living off my savings and the help of family. I'm looking for a job, I don't care if I have to scrub toilets. I'm satisfied as long as I can pay the rent, utilities, and keep food on the table.

The day after I moved in my great great uncle passed away. Now, he wasn't as old as that sounds. He was around the same age as my grandpa. He was one of the very best people I knew. Even with my past and having PTSD, I NEVER felt unsafe or in danger with him. I always trusted him 100%. I knew I never had to fear this man, though I feared every other man on the planet. He was truly one of the best people in the world. He was so kind and loving and strong. When I think of what a real man and real strength looks like I see him. He's one of the people who, through his example, taught me that not all men will hurt me, that in fact there are good men who will protect me instead of hurt me. I couldn't thank him enough. I didn't see my uncle a lot but God has been showing me how this amazing and wonderful man helped heal pieces of my heart that I thought would never be whole again. In the hospital I couldn't find the words to express to him how I felt and what he had done in my life. I was there with him and his immediate family up to an hour before he passed away. He was so aware of what was going on. He knew it was his time and he faced death bravely. Though he couldn't stand physically in that hospital, I believe he faced death standing. I will miss him so much. I can close my eyes and see his smile and hear his soft voice saying "Hey Hun!" That's how he always greeted me. I don't think he every really called me by my name, but I didn't mind. His soft "Hey Hun!" made me feel cherished and loved for who I was. He always made me feel safer and happier. He was one of those people who, when he walked into a room, everyone felt more at ease. I am honored to call him my uncle. I have been blessed so much having him in my life and I will miss him terribly now that he's gone. However, his courage inspires and strengthens me to face life bravely and meet the challenges I will face standing. So look out big city! Look out PTSD!

-Jerelle