Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

My New Gyno, the Sniper, Grieving for My Dad, and...My Childhood Sexual Abuse

Do you guys know why people are paying so much money for old firecracker labels? I like them, the graphics are cool and I used to buy them from time to time, but I was just browsing Ebay and I was amazed at the prices they are getting for these tiny labels, one hundred eleven for a one and one half inch label.

I don't really know what to say about the sniper except that I'm so relieved he was caught and no one else was injured. I was so surprised he turned out to be an African American man, I was sure he would either be some kind of Al-Caida terrorist or a really screwy white guy. I still don't get that it was two guys, I think the kid was caught in his thrall or something. Freak, murderer, bastard. I heard his ex-brother and sister-in-law on Larry King tonight, they weren't exactly interesting or forthcoming but the one thing that stuck out that they did say was that they always thought he was really arrogant. That makes sense and it seems like you can see it in his face.

It's really sinking in that Art Bell is leaving. I feel so sad. I go through this every time he leaves, even though I try not to let myself love him again when he comes back. God damnit, I'm going to miss him so much. I really love the guy. I'm glad George is going to be taking over the show because he seems like such a sweetheart and he isn't as big of a showman as Art is, but I'll miss that, the excitement Art brings to the show. Although it's nice to have already been liking and listening to George for so long now that it should be a somewhat easier transition than last time. Does anyone know what happened to the old host? I can't remember his name right now. There was a serious Big Brother vibe the way he left.

I went to my new gynecologist today and the whole experience was markedly different from the old doctor. So different it made me wonder why anyone would want to go to the other doctor if they could come here and get so much more attention and care. The doctor's nurses were so kind, what a huge difference from the other office, where everyone acted so cold, rushed, and businesslike. It seems pretty obvious to me that the attitude of the nurses and office staff towards the patients is a direct reflection of the doctor and her own attitude towards her patients.

From the minute I walked in I sensed the difference in the quality of care. The room was bigger and more comfortable than my old doctor's was, (Although she sent me a note telling me that she had moved so she could make room for her new spa services. Spa services at a GYN? What do they do, give your vagina a mud mask and a massage?) and it was loaded with current magazines, which as Jen will tell you, says something about the attitude towards the comfort of patients. And there were books, lots of books about things that anyone visiting a gynecologist would want to read about.

I also liked that the nurses were happy. They were all joking around and teasing each other and me. They were asking me about why I had left the other doctor, and I told them I would explain why if they promised not to tell her. So they agreed. I told them I was sick of her cold, busy, star-fucking attitude, and one of the nurses pretended to answer the phone and said, "Oh Hello Dr. X, I was just talking to one of your patients, Jacqui Hyland, who thinks you're too into the whole celebrity thing to look after your regular patients." I was so worn out and frightened about being at a new gynecologist that I fell for it, and my mouth just dropped open. I really thought my old gynecologist was on the phone and this nurse was ratting me out to her.

Everyone laughed and started swatting her and clapping. They told me that she's famous for teasing people and "being bad". I got even with her by teasing her back every chance I got after that, it was gloves off for the rest of the visit. Hey I'm not my funny cynical Father's daughter for nothing. Sigh, I've been missing him a lot lately. Deep grief is so perplexing in the way that it plays itself out, the ebb and flow of it. I wish there were one person left on this planet who I could share this loss with, one person who knew him and loved him the way I did. I just called my Mom and wept into her answering machine, but it won't do much good, she's so self protective and walled off from letting herself feel anything about this. At least I got to express some of it.

The doctor herself was very real people. She had me sit in her office, not like my old doctor who had me sit on the examining table for the duration of our first visit. I used to look in to her office like it was some kind of forbidden territory, wondering who ever sat in there with her. This new doctor, Dr. Amy Rosenman, specializes in a few of the things that have gone haywire in my bod, particularly my Interstitial Cystitis. She told me that Fibromyalgia often goes hand in hand with IC, which was news to me, and she put me on Elmiron and really seemed sympathetic when I told her I have to get up a dozen times a night to pee. For birth control she gave me the latest patch. I'd never thought I would want to try something like this but now I'm feeling kind of special about it because she said this one is so new there isn't that much info about it on the net yet. She also invited me to a lecture she was giving with a couple other doctors on painful bladder problems tonight. All in all it was a super experience, scary, because change is hard for me, having a stranger reach into your most private places is daunting, and I don't exactly dig having my blood drawn, but I'm so glad I went, and I feel like someone is looking after me now, and I don't have to live in this land of hormonal weirdness anymore.

This next part is super personal and a bit hard to write or read so I'm putting it behind the live journal cut for the faint of heart.

The worst thing about my visit to the gynecologist today was having her slide a finger up my butt without enough warning for a butt-traumatized gal like me. She just said, "You're going to feel a little pressure...rectal exam," and shoved it in, hard, deep, and fast. I'd never had a rectal exam, never. I won't let anyone near me. I always warn doctors about this, about my past and how squeamish I am about this level of intimacy with anyone in authority. The last time a doctor entered that forbidden territory was twenty years ago and that was last time I saw her. I was so upset I never went back. I know people need to have rectal exams, I know it's important and can save lives, but I am realllllly reallllly freaked out about having anyone other than my lover mess around with my bottom.

I don't know if I've written about this here before, maybe a little bit, it's hard to write about, one of the most personal things about my past, and I want to censor myself because it all seems so personal and ooky, and I worry about what it would feel like to read this, to someone who is just browsing through my journal. I was sexually abused by my governess/nanny when I was a child. Her name was Josie and she was this strict uptight Swiss/German woman who took care of me because my parents both had businesses to run and were never around much until I was older. We also had Mexican housekeepers and sometimes a cook, depending on how well my parents were or weren't doing. But I was mostly left with Josie. I loved her in the way that most abused children love their parents or primary caregivers. I adored her and wanted so much for her to love me. I remember she did these amazing things like one year she knitted tiny sweaters and dresses for all of my dolls and teddy bears, and set them under the Christmas tree as a surprise for me on Christmas morning. I liked to be with her. I liked to go into her room, look at her things, and listen to her talk with her friends, but she could be unpredictable, she had a cold temper and would hurt me. I was afraid of her and spent a lot of time hiding behind the curtains in my room. I thought she couldn't find me back there.

Josie used candy as a reward and various forms of anal insertion as a means of punishment. If I was defiant in any way she'd hold me down and take my temperature rectally, or insert a suppository, or give me an enema. The same thing would happen if I was excited or happy or did anything that threatened her feeling of control and dominance over me, or if I had a friend over, or if someone was paying attention to me, which usually made her jealous. She would do this in front of other people as well, put me over her lap, pull down my pants and shove the thermometer in, and it went on for years, until I was nine. She also slapped me, made me eat soap, and locked me in my little closet.

I complained about it to my mother but she never listened, never took my part, and it all felt like just another piece of my frightening, grim, lonely lot as a child in my home. Obviously I've been kind of messed up around this for a long time. When Beau was born I was so careful not to do anything remotely like this to him. He's never had his temperature taken rectally, not even as an infant, I wouldn't let anyone touch him. We used under arm and ear thermometers. When vets want to take the cats temperatures I have to leave the room. That's how traumatized I am around this. The only person I've ever been comfortable with letting anywhere near my anus is Scott and even that comes and goes.

Oh God, I'm so close to deleting all of this...I think I'll just spell check it and let it ride. Yuck.

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