After childhood sexual abuse and years of medical torture (aka being chronically ill), going to the Dr now terrifies me. Last time I had a panic attack and cried in the corner of my house before I had to call to make an appt. The past 2 times I went, I brought my favorite stuffed animal with me. It was such a help, I seriously don’t think I would’ve made it otherwise! I just told the Dr I’m a trauma survivor and they really couldn’t care less about me bringing a plush friend. One even asked if it was a boy/girl and was sad to find out I didn’t have a name for him lol (note: always name your plushies). I should probably look at it that I’m actually doing the adult thing by taking care of myself so I don’t have a panic attack, and they can do their job. And I’m proud I even told them I’m a trauma survivor. But I’m so embarrassed. It’s humiliating at my age.