Where Is The Sting

This morning something I was watching jogged a memory, one that was filled with such pain that I thought I would write it down.

Probably 2010 or 11, I was in my mid 40's when my OB diagnosed me with HPV. She warned me not to jump to conclusions, saying that the virus could lie dormant in the body for decades before showing up.

I did not jump to conclusions, despite the very long odds, I trusted. It turned out to be misplaced trust but I did not know that at the time.

The treatment for the virus was something called a LEEP procedure. It was done in office. It was painful and shame filled and, well, heartbreaking. I can't explain it...those were just my feelings.

During the procedure something happened. I'm am not exactly sure what. It may have been a panic attack, it may have been my body reacting. My chest hurt, I couldn't breath, laying there I saw myself detaching and it was ok with it. All the sudden, I hear the doctor calling my name loudly, she got up and shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked at her, "I can't breath, I can't breath" was what I tried to say but could not. She took control, helped me to breath, comforted me, eventually allowing me to compose myself.

Afterwards, I sat in my car realizing how alone I really was. The man who had once been my partner, husband and friend had exposed me to this virus. He did not show up to support me. I was alone.

This memory, while still painful, no longer holds the sting it once did. I am learning to take better care of myself and one of those things is by no longer telling myself how stupid I was for trusting.

The other thing I have learned was that he did not do this to hurt me. He was in his own pain, his own hell and it was way too deep for him to be there for anyone else. That's good for me to know... it was not personal.