My regular readers know that I have been saying for months that the only thing I have left to do is one more round of areolae tattooing. The first round ended up being too light after it all healed. I have been putting it off, making excuses, using my so-called “busy” schedule to make even more excuses not to do it. After all, it’s only tattooing, right? What’s the big deal about that?
Well apparently it’s a huge deal because as I was typing the email to Dr. Elliott’s office inquiring about the tattooist’s schedule for next month, I started tearing up. Thinking about sitting in that chair again made me start shaking. Before I knew it, I was curled up in a little ball on my husband’s lap, sobbing and having a flashback to the day I had the debridement.
It was then that I realized that it’s not the tattooing. I have two decorative tattoos already. That doesn’t bother me at all.
It’s the chair.
More precisely it’s the memories of what happened in the chair in the original PS’s office. Even though there was no pain during the debridement, what happened to me was pretty severe. It was severe enough to cause flashbacks on a number of occasions.
Along with the debridement, there was also the time he tried using cadaver skin as a bandage by sewing it on to me. Adding to the creepy factor and my total lack of understanding about precisely what that was supposed to accomplish (AND his lack of explanation beyond “This is a very expensive treatment that I’m giving you”), there was one additional factor. As he was sewing the cadaver skin on, he hit a couple spots that still had sensation, so I screamed. Either he or his nurse (I don’t remember which) told me to stop because I was “scaring people in the waiting room”.
Thus I spent some time this evening huddled in my husband’s lap having PTSD flashbacks and begging him not to make me go back to that place. Fortunately Ken has dealt with this before and he reassured me that I never have to see that man again.Except to, perhaps, piss on his grave one day. Ken is a good man and he deals with an amazing amount of crap.
Yeah, it was pretty bad.
I think now that I finally understand the source of my fears, I can begin to deal with them. Now I can remind myself that 1) I never have to see the original PS again and 2) That is NOT the original PS OR his office. it is Dr. Elliott’s people, who have always been kind, caring and gentle with me.
Being able to remind myself of those things if or when I start to panic will help see me through any possible flashbacks when I get the tattooing done. Once I hear from Dr. Elliott’s office I’ll post the scheduled date here. And, of course, when I get the tattooing done, I’ll have Ken take pictures of the process for this blog.