triggered

This morning as I waited for my husband to get ready so we could go to breakfast he was listening to a podcast and a female surgeon was talking about the sexual harassment she and many others have experienced. What she described and talked about brought back my fear and memories of the times I've felt afraid and abused at the hands of medical professionals. 

Some minor moments of not being listened to, the lack of knocking on the door, the assumption that they can do things to my body without explanation and care. 

And the harder ones, the time I knew I was being sexually touched by a male nurse doing an ECG. I didn't know how to report it. The time I was treated like a slab of meat and my pubic hair shaved in a hurry without care to get the job done. Being hurt and told it didn't hurt  The moment I wondered why I had bruises in strange places after surgery. After my c-section having a man shove his hands inside me, remarking that I shouldn't be able to move my legs that much as I squeezed them shut, he hadn't warned me. 'A sweep' he said as if it was the routine I should have expected it. 

Perhaps I have more of these than most being a frequent flyer - I'm mostly very happy. 

The women said she hadn't experienced much in recent years, sighting that she had changed. I too became hardened to the system and found ways to protect myself. To ask for what I want and hold the gaze of the medical staff who thought they knew better. Until they could justify why they did. Asking why the door wasn't knocked, pointing out my rights. Requesting my family are informed and having someone with me. 

But still I cried as I explained my memories to my husband and felt it all again. My vulnerability each time I go. My need to meet the surgeon and know that he's (all but one have been men) a good guy. 

And the light is being shined on this - good. 

#metoo