Seasounds
MyPTSD Pro
Have you been through something like this?
I did my best to tell the staff in an ED visit that I needed to go slow due to anxiety; “engaging one person at a time and/or doing one thing at a time.”
Unlike other staff members, the main nurse ignored my boundary, taking my blood pressure when I told her not to take it; assault number one. After taking the blood pressure cuff off-while it was in progress, she threatened me; assault number two.
I never thought an ED would be the source of assaults, let alone add to the load of 3 assaults that I’ve already endured in last six months on the city bus system.
The recent bus assaults turned my interpretation of my experience into to being strapped down-by the blood pressure cuff and being gagged-by the thermometer in my mouth, liken unto being held prisoner by my parents and not free to leave. The nurse’s dominance added to the remembrance of torture.
After leaving a comment card, both the supervisor and manager called me. In years past, I wouldn’t have been able to speak of my boundaries, recognize assaults, stand up for myself by expecting respectful treatment-defined on my terms instead of the hospitals terms (aka “This is how we do it here.”). Too boot, I was able to advocate for myself before I went into the ED, two weeks later.
This forum was pivotal in my growth and living with PTSD.
I did my best to tell the staff in an ED visit that I needed to go slow due to anxiety; “engaging one person at a time and/or doing one thing at a time.”
Unlike other staff members, the main nurse ignored my boundary, taking my blood pressure when I told her not to take it; assault number one. After taking the blood pressure cuff off-while it was in progress, she threatened me; assault number two.
I never thought an ED would be the source of assaults, let alone add to the load of 3 assaults that I’ve already endured in last six months on the city bus system.
The recent bus assaults turned my interpretation of my experience into to being strapped down-by the blood pressure cuff and being gagged-by the thermometer in my mouth, liken unto being held prisoner by my parents and not free to leave. The nurse’s dominance added to the remembrance of torture.
After leaving a comment card, both the supervisor and manager called me. In years past, I wouldn’t have been able to speak of my boundaries, recognize assaults, stand up for myself by expecting respectful treatment-defined on my terms instead of the hospitals terms (aka “This is how we do it here.”). Too boot, I was able to advocate for myself before I went into the ED, two weeks later.
This forum was pivotal in my growth and living with PTSD.