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A Doctor Told Me to Chill While I Was Having a Panic Attack
I’ve always been afraid of doctors.
Seriously, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t dread going in to the clinic. I hated telling my parents I was sick because I worried that they would make me visit a doctor. When I was a kid and my clinic mailed my family notifications that I was due for my yearly checkup, I stole them from the mailbox and hid them so that my parents wouldn’t notice. Sometimes I was rude to the medical professionals that treated me or got defensive when they asked me questions. I hated the feeling that my privacy was being invaded. I hated when they touched me.
I am a sexual trauma survivor, and I feel like my fear of medical settings comes with the territory.
Still, I have worked to address these fears. I knew I could not live my whole life avoiding medical settings. So last spring, I forced myself to schedule a checkup.
I could feel my anxiety coming on the minute I stepped through the doors. And when the nurse called me in, I felt my heartbeat begin to quicken, a telltale sign that my panic attacks were about to begin. Stay calm, I told myself. This is temporary. You’re going to be okay.
The nurse sat me down in the room and took my temperature, asked me a few questions, then took my blood pressure. When she assessed…
