Triggers

I recently started rewatching the TV show, House MD, for the umpteenth time.

It’s one of those shows that triggers mega nostalgia from inside jokes with friends to bonding with hubby over it when we were still very newly wedded.

Despite how big of the big role such shows played in shaping the early-twenties-me I came to avoid it (and other shows with medical themes and scenes) completely to avoid those triggers.

My self-preservation slowly consumed any rational reasoning. Even ridiculously impossible medical situations such as emergency surgeries in an apocalypse scenario or pseudoscientists experimenting on supernatural creatures would leave me on the verge of a panic attack.

With each character in a hospital bed, I felt myself terrified, alone and trapped in a hospital room. I was stuck again in that intense mental struggle at height the pandemic when visitors were limited to hospital staff.

With each doctor scrubbing in for a procedure, I felt myself anxiously waiting to be put under for one of the many procedures and fighting with my body to do it’s thing that I could go home.

With every scan done on screen I could taste and smell the barium contrast I needed to drink before each CT scan and the sick feeling that kept me bathroom locked for that afternoon.

With every needle, my brain flashed through every time a technician drew blood, a nurse set up an IV line or a doctor administered anesthetics. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes it didn’t.

These are only to name a few…

I honestly thought I was just broken and I would forever be triggered by any semblance of a medical facility, worker or procedure. And the more time passed the more emotionally and mentally taxing coming in contact with those triggers became.

Ironically, the vicious cycle of intense, chronic migraines was the “trigger” needed for me, but more so the people around me, to see I needed help… the unprocessed trauma had caught up with me and it was wreaking havoc in my life.

I was fading deeper and deeper into fight-or-flight. The fear and aftermath was slowly suffocating the warrior in me.

I thought this was just who I am now. I was so focused on just “getting through” the cancer journey and ended up leaving a band aid over a deep laceration and hoping for the best – but it festered.

At the prompting of loved ones around me (after finally noticing the denial I was neck deep in) I took steps to drain the infected wound.

I found a phenomenal counsellor who not only gave me a significant appreciation for mental health professionals and how far the world has come with spreading awareness of and caring about looking after this very important part of the pillar of holistic well-being.

She not only helped to recognise the triggers and identify the symptoms, but also practically deal with triggers as they come up in every day life.

After nearly three months of weekly sessions I am not magically immune to triggers. I would be triggered again or I sometimes still feel broken and removed from myself. Thankfully, I am more equipped to confront, manage and work through what a trigger brings to the surface.

Listen to your body and listen to your loved ones. Find a mental health professional and help yourself. You are worth the effort.