Essays From The Women's Department

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

By the will of fate, I ended up in the emergency gynecology department. Depressed state, fear and uncertainty … People in white coats, corridors in tiles, women in knitted robes and slippers in the last stages of pregnancy - sadness and doom. They put me in ward number 7 - I'm not even surprised that it is the seventh number, this number still haunts me through life, like “number 31”.

I do my last bit to be polite, greet the three inmates of the ward and go to an empty bed. The ward looks strange, and I notice it even in a stressful state. Very high walls, they are lined with tiles under the ceiling, respectively, in the chamber there is an echo from the slightest rustle. The windows are huge, and there is only one small square sash in the middle of the window, it is open for airing, the "sailor" pushes a fresh stream around the ward and it is chilly enough in it. But the strangest thing is that there is nothing on the windows, nothing at all, no tulle, no curtains, no blinds … they are completely empty.

Tell me why I even think about it now, why do I notice all this ?? and about the windows, and about the walls … … how is it arranged in the head? Thinking about the absence of curtains on the windows in such a stressful situation … I really need it - where are these curtains and why are they not on the windows ????

When the sun comes out from behind the clouds, the chamber turns into a huge glass-tiled lens, under it is unbearably bright and hot, and the fresh draft - "sailor" does not save …. I get a bed in the sunniest place in the room - by the window, here the sun is baking, and the wind is too cold, contradictory sensations, they exacerbate bare nerves even more. All other seats are taken.

I shove rolls, brushes, soap dishes in the corners of the bedside table and lie down facing the tiles. The girls speak quietly enough, and I am grateful to them that they do not disturb me with inappropriate curiosity and care. After a while, I get used to it a little, I start to hear what they are talking about.

They are all of different ages. Natasha, 23-24 years old, graceful blonde, looks like a teenager. Galya is 45 years old, with a curly head and a beautiful figure, she is strangely tanned for the beginning of March. And the third, Lyubochka, about 30 years old … that's around Lyubochka and the main conversation takes place. My attention is attracted by Lyubochka's regular benevolent tugs and calming. I listen more attentively, trying to understand the reason for such a bias in attention in her direction. I catch my irritation, which migrates from Lyuba to Natasha and Gala. Now I get annoyed at Lyubochkin's talkativeness, now at the protective intonations of the girls. Having caught the rising irritation, I contain it so that it does not interfere with understanding what is happening, and I remain only with Lyuba's voice and intonations. Lyuba speaks a lot, willingly. From her words comes a feeling of mistrust in the competence of doctors, grieving over the aborted pregnancy, bewilderment about the identified inflammatory process. Often Lyubochkin's Samsung trembles on "vibro", and she keeps talking and talking, trying to understand the cause of the miscarriage. A few minutes of observing what is happening plunge me into a stream of tension, in which you lose the ability to reason sanely and simply become infected with a feeling of impossibility of some kind. Judging by Lyuba's words, the pregnancy was very desirable and long-awaited. It also turns out that she is the wife of an Orthodox priest of one of the parishes in the suburbs. So she is a believer !!!!…. here it is, what's the matter …. I am even more imbued with Lyubochka's story!

I listen to the incessant stream of words and try to escape from this enveloping anxiety, something prevents me from fluttering and looking at the situation from above, I cannot understand what exactly keeps me in this viscous state. With difficulty, but I build up and manage to look from the outside at the balance of forces and means in the ward.

And suddenly a feeling of understanding comes - like a red thread through all these phrases between the girls and the telephone conversations, one pulsating thought: "Now, if Lyuba had not worried, did not fuss, did not worry, then everything would be fine." This idea is not framed into a thought, let alone a word. This idea has a life of its own. They are afraid to think or say it. They shy away from it masterly, if only it would not catch up and take shape. Do you know this state of trying not to think about something ?! It's a strange state, isn't it? Make an effort to "not think" some thought? !! Here you have to think about the good! And about the bad "not to think"! A strange and idiotic state of not thinking about the bad! You will laugh! I wonder what smart guy came up with this mechanism! How can you think only about what is possible or necessary ?! Ridiculous … absurd … whatever one may say, but you are "about nothing" in front of this idea! After all, in order to understand what you don't need to think about, you have to face this forbidden thought, because it will take shape in the brain and you will fly into it with all the foolishness … you will see it and immediately catch up with you and will be covered by the realization that you thought it …. and that's it! Lost! Now this thoughtlessness needs to be attached somewhere … behind the closet? out the door? …. where to attach it in your head, in a stupid head that thinks about the wrong thing.

And this is an eternal story. Probably not all. But I very obviously fly out into a sense of guilt and despair! As if it was the stupid head that was to blame for the absence of the child! This time it won't! He left. And you lie here in the ward under a glass-tiled lens and do not know why he left you? Why a miscarriage? What did I do wrong ?! Didn't you go there? Talking to the wrong person? Did you eat or drink? What is the inflammation and why did it happen…. There is a circumstance that severely aggravates Lyuba's emotional state - she is a believer! Orthodox, father's wife! In this case, it is not a resource for a young woman! The search for reasons and the endless analysis of events and circumstances plunges even deeper into the abyss of feelings of guilt! Lyuba is already in the frying pan under an accusing gaze !! Understand whose view this is impossible. And it seems to me that she wants to shout to this look, that she tried to do everything right! And walk, and sleep, and pray, and think the right thoughts…. Lord, well, after all, I took it into account! She took care of everything!

But Lyubochka, like a spindle in the hands of an experienced spinner, scurries and scurries between the thoughts of her relatives and girlfriends unfortunately in ward 7! She can neither shut up, nor stop worrying, nor stop analyzing. Anxiety is like yeast, it ferments and ferments! And Lyuba smiles and tries to speak quietly, tells some stories, but constantly jumps off into the “Nukakzhetak” and “Avdrugonioshibli…” and each such congress to the danger zone is recorded by Natasha and Galya! Right there, softly or not very softly, they reflect to her: “Well, why are you so worried? Well, here you are again! Watch how you wind yourself up? What did you want? After all, you are constantly twitching?”…. and Lyuba is again guilty and looks a little inadequate, she smiles and justifies herself, tries to change the subject, or explains that she is not very nervous and is not very nervous. He begins to tell something different, but again gets lost on a sore subject and the guardian / accusing intonations of the “fellow-prisoners” sound …

I lie in silence, but the need to protect Lyubochka from herself and from the girl's help is growing in my soul. I understand that this is none of my business and there is no request for assistance ….. But! Can't I offer help ?!

Trying to figure out how exactly to help Lyubochka? There are several painful topics - guilt, fear, anxiety. These feelings are strung on a strong steel thread, and change each other without stopping. It is such a necklace of self-accusation and self-flagellation. I continue to be silent, tracing the train of Lyuba's thoughts. And the irritation in the ward is growing. Tips don't work very well. Lyuba is not very hearing at the moment.

I can't stand the strain and gently turn my face into the ward. I can no longer think about my problems and switch to someone else's! I get involved in a group process. Of course, I can grab it to the fullest, but there is no strength to be silent.

Quietly I ask one of the girls and draw attention away from Lyuba and the hanging theme of her anxiety. The conversation is not very active, we ask who, with what and after which he found himself here. Suddenly a doctor comes in and tells me that they will soon take me to the operating room. The vata-fog of fear fills my head again, and I run away from it in a conversation with the girls. I talk about my fear and finally take the attention of the three women to myself … it's understandable, because this is a good opportunity to live through my story, something of my own unlived and unreacted. Well, let. At this time I receive attention and sympathy, it becomes easier. I relax a little, and at this moment Lyubochka activates in conversation. And the girls are silent.

I already have the right to bring myself into the conversation, and I check with Lyuba the diagnosis. It turns out that there was a miscarriage, as I understood earlier, the reasons for the miscarriage are not clear to the doctors. Along the way, another diagnosis is found out - a chronic thyroid disease, autoimmune thyroiditis! How ?! Of course, one can assume here the contribution of the thyroid gland to the failure of pregnancy! This is the physiological aspect of the disease. Most likely, the woman's "second" heart worked crookedly, and there was a failure in the reproductive system! And then a miscarriage is the consequences! But where did the young woman get the thyroid disease - this is definitely important!

I drop out of the conversation, shut up and try to understand what comes first, a miscarriage or a thyroid disease? Well, given the chronology, most likely the thyroid gland is probably closer to the core of emotional trauma. I ask Lyuba some moments from the history of her family, she, not wondering why I need it, tells. He looks at me attentively and willingly, moreover, interestingly, tells me about grandfathers and grandmothers. Natasha and Galya are intently listening to our conversation, and I understand that the case is clearly becoming more than a chatter of four women. To continue speaking in the same vein, it is necessary to legalize and ask permission for further continuation. But the girls are already helping me and asking with a smile: "Are you a psychologist?" …. "Psychotherapist" - I answer, in response the girls nod their heads and say that they understood so.

I have great respect for the laws of the formation of psychosomatic diseases. I have lived through them, no, I have suffered through them on myself. Both my daughter and my son - all of them at different periods of their lives walked with me from doctor to doctor for quite a long time, looking for the smartest and most correct, the most attentive and responsible. And the doctors came across the most different. As do people. And someone could not cope with my fears for the life and health of children, went too far and I left them. And someone withstood. Pediatricians, therapists, neuropathologists, allergists, gastroenterologists, etc. It’s scary to remember how many specialists I was involved in servicing my fears for my children and myself. I was losing strength and mind. For some reason I remember now Evgeny Aleksandrovich Sadaev. I smile! Thanks to him! Something in this pediatrician from our Novorossiysk ambulance just stopped me … … I wonder what exactly ?! I just exhaled at his reception. After him, the children recovered on the "Ingalipt" and "Mukaltin". I would have my knowledge and my experience there, in those years. And I would understand that the state of my children was based on my state - if I was mad with fear, if it is important for me to be a very, very good caring mother, my beloved children will definitely help me feel it day and night literally. I remember with pain, while still with pain, childhood illnesses of children. The children were very sick. Even then, I understood that it was necessary to change the very approach to childhood diseases. My journey into the world of psychosomatics began over 20 years ago.

I remember how, after studying at the PSI2.0 School of Psychosomatics, I dragged their handbook on diseases with me everywhere - and it weighs just like a Soviet encyclopedia. I just broke up with him recently and I feel quite comfortable when he is in my office.

So, back to autoimmune thyroiditis … According to the theory of psychosomatics, the so-called "lumpy conflict" triggers a thyroid disease - in other words, what you considered yours was taken away from you! Somewhere in the past, there was a traumatic story that seemed to be forgotten. For some reason, there, in the past, it was impossible to either defend "ours" or give back to the offender. But the psyche is caring. Life goes on. And the psyche hid all the unlived in the body (Freud called this process repression into the unconscious). Dr. Hammer said there is no unconscious. The unconscious is our body! This is all that our poor body has kept in itself, or rather hid from us, so that it does not interfere with our life, work, breathing. As insulin drags all carbohydrates to its depot, so the body attaches all our misunderstood - unbearable emotional experiences in places where they are less noticeable. This is a complex biochemical and physiological process. But nothing, never disappears anywhere. Remember the law of conservation of energy from physics ?! Energy cannot disappear, it is transformed into another type of energy. Well, for example, an old emotional trauma has become a medical diagnosis. So much for the process of psychosomatics!

I raise my eyes to Lyubochka and ask her if she wants me to continue the conversation. She worries. It can be seen that it is difficult for her to decide, but she takes risks and agrees. Such moments can easily be called a demo session, and here it is important to be extremely careful and realize that you are alone, you are responsible for the client, and that there are two untrained listeners who can contribute something to the process. I, understanding all the risks and realizing my physical weakness, begin work. It should take about 10 minutes, no more. I won't have time anymore, and it will be an intervention. Rather, it will be an ambulance.

I am making a short introduction and explaining how I can help. And then I ask Lyuba to remember when she lost something that she considered hers? Lyuba is very interested and not very safe. She thinks over, recalls stories from her childhood aloud. Begins to speak in a more focused and concrete manner. Goes into memories and it is clear that she remained only with them. After trying on a couple of children's stories, she dwells on the memory of an 8-9 year old girl. Well, what does it mean now is what you need. In this story, Lyubochka's beloved doll, a very beautiful and expensive doll, was taken away. Parents took it for sale - there was a very difficult financial situation, and the doll was a souvenir. I listen and think, what should have happened in the family, that parents decide to sell children's toys ….. It is clear that there is some kind of drama. It is clear that parents are forced to take such extreme measures. With the money raised, it was possible to solve some kind of family problem. They took the doll not rudely, explained everything and promised to buy another one. But Lyuba still cannot forget this story. And even once, already being an adult, she told her mother: "Well, why did you sell this doll?" She said kindly, very correctly. Lyubochka, telling a story with a doll, intonations and something else, non-verbal, with a slight hint, pays special attention to the fact that she does not take offense at her mother, that she understands her. Then he adds that my mother later bought another doll instead. What are these explanations and corrections in relation to the "attitude" to mother's actions … What prevents from letting go of that story? It is clear that the parents did not want to offend or injure the child, it is clear that they took care and explained everything and then compensated for the loss of the baby. But something is still alive in my memory. For some reason, Lyubochka is now explaining to me, an unfamiliar aunt, that she is not offended by her mother, that she understands everything … and several times emphasizes this moment. This place in history is charged.

I decide to test my fantasy and ask Lyuba: “Why are you now talking in such detail about the reasons for that mother’s act and your attitude to selling the doll? What kind of importance is this? " Lyuba is suppressed and actively repeats once again that she does not hold a grudge against her mother, that she understands everything! And here I clearly imagined the figure of a small, very upset girl, from whom the doll was taken away, and how they explained to an adult that this is right and necessary, that the situation in the family is difficult and you need to understand this. And the girl is simply forced to be silent and endure, because you can neither get angry, nor ask, nor demand, nor freak out! After all, the parents are not to blame, because such a situation, what can you do! The doll was sold. Everything is clear to everyone. And Lyuba is silent … and does not even cry. How can she cry? She's a good daughter and a serious girl. And the girl's psyche has to take care of her and drive out pain, annoyance, resentment, anger, grief, because how can you be angry with your beloved mom !!!! Impossible! What can not be done - Lyubochka knows (as we all know this), but what "zya" - she does not know. Nobody taught.

At the age of 2-3 years, the child can still sincerely shout to his mother in hysterics: “You are bad! I do not love you!" It is good if the mother is conscious and calmly meets the child's discontent: “I see you are very angry with me! But now I cannot do otherwise. " And if mom is confused, offended, angry, pulled up, driven into a sense of guilt ??? Well, in general, what can I say, how we can, and we react. Well, we do not know what the consequences of our educational measures will lead to. This is alchemy! This is witchcraft! It is impossible to raise a child and not injure him !!! Although … I'm certainly a very hypocrite now! There is no alchemy, no witchcraft, everything is quite predictable, unfortunately. Later, at the age of 5-6, the child will not allow himself to shout such things to his mother! He will become more socialized. And most likely he will already be able to hide anger or discontent on close significant people. To hide such intense feelings not only from adults, but also from oneself … They then become the causes of psychosomatics.

I - “Lyuba, this idea comes to my mind now, or you can say a fantasy that you are embarrassed about something…. You look guilty, your head is down and there are some justifying notes in your voice. What do you think it can be from ?!"

Lyuba listens to the chain of my assumptions, freezes and is silent.

With signs, I ask the female co-workers not to disrupt her processes, to keep quiet, they are imbued, quieted down, went into something of their own.

There is no time at all. The door opens and the nurse calls out my unspoken last name. In ten minutes I’m on my way out.

And Lyuba is silent and looks away, but this is a look turned inward. I get out of bed, go into the shadow of the room and only now I notice the sensations of my body - from heat to chill. I squat in front of Lyubochka, look into her eyes: “Lyuba, for whom is the little girl to blame? What has she done there that there is still no way to say a word? " I beg the girl with a look to say if my assumptions are correct, do they respond ?! Lyuba looks at me, it is difficult for her to articulate something clearly, she is still in the past, she was "blown away" … but she nods to me. I quietly, not even in a whisper, but simply with my lips utter the whole essence of the internal emotional conflict - a small, well-bred daughter experiences strong negative feelings, and knowing that only bad, ungrateful girls are angry with mommy, she displaces this anger into the unconscious. But resentment and anger are still alive, and meeting with them shocks positive Lyubochka. In the same soundless voice, I tell Lyuba that her feelings are natural. Anger is a normal reaction of a healthy psyche, it is normal to experience the full range of emotions, from minus to plus. All relatives know how much Lyuba loves and honors her mother and what a wonderful daughter she is. If I had the opportunity, I would definitely disassemble the “curve” logical chain that the girl had formed at that moment. We ought to find out how they took the doll and what they said to each other, and so on. But, unfortunately, there is no time for that now. Lyuba is crying in silence, and does not look up into my eyes. Intensive inner work is going on. I smile softly and tell her that we need to finish the minisession now. I say that mentally I am with her, I ask you to sit still quietly and let your thoughts and feelings settle down in a new, more comfortable way. After all, the girl there was simply very sorry to give the doll. Of course she was angry. Who caught this anger there and how did he explain it?

I warn the girls not to violate Lyuba for at least half an hour, let her process and appropriate the raised material. They nod.

Probably, in different conditions, and in a different setting, I would have consulted differently. I would be softer, more measured, I would reflect on Lyubochka more about her. I would not be in a hurry. But it turned out that way, urgently and suddenly. Not the fact that it is less effective. And, of course, as usual, I don’t know how this story will end for Lyubochka herself. What she will take from the session, and what she will not even notice. And something will remain unclear forever. I am used to the fact that people come to me, touch their grief, together we format their past and they quietly leave. But I miss, sometimes even miss, and remember their stories … I have no idea how it works in my head, but I remember almost everyone !!

The anesthesiologist picks me up. A tall, large man with a cold face and a minimum of emotions - a professional mask. Now I am left alone with an unfamiliar man in a dressing gown, we are sitting in an empty corridor with high ceilings, he asks stupid questions, collecting anamnesis: how old I am (and I fussily count my age from the year of birth in my mind), how many times I gave birth, how many times and what did I hurt ….. Mom !!! it's just a gynecological confessional … Doctor !!! Yes, all my life I dream of forgetting the answers to these questions of yours, and you keep asking and asking !!!!! He warns about something strictly and makes him sign under a strange paper. In short, if I bend, then I was warned about this and I am to blame. I am afraid of him and at the same time wildly hope for him.

Here is the operating room! It's a strange fact, but it is in gynecology that you go to the operating room with your own feet, in all other departments you are taken on a gurney! That's interesting !! Is it just me such things happen, or with everyone ?! You take off your clothes in the dressing room, put on a paper robe and shoe covers. Very cold. Teeth chattering either from fear or from cold. A metal cutting table, a cold shiny tool, twilight (and this is strange). Lord, how did I get here? So smart, special in psychosomatics, so strong, courageous, I help everyone, I understand everything, your mother !!!!!! And suddenly on the surgeon's cutting table. I am furious with myself, and only one thought soon remains in my head: "Tatyana Nikolaevna, dear, I beg you, do not touch me while I am conscious, let me" drive away ", and only then work your work." I am always wildly afraid that they will start cutting me until the moment the anesthesia takes effect. I ask all the doctors like a fool, lisp and beg to wait for me … they nod, assent, but I'm still afraid. The body remembers being operated on for appendicitis twenty-two years ago under local anesthesia. And at that moment I was pregnant with my son, 4 months old, a neat tummy. God forbid, once again feel the doctors talking about something, digging in my guts, simultaneously demanding that I recite poetry to them. They argued that general anesthesia is still very harmful for the developing fetus, but I listen to all this … then they argued that it would be better if I had cut out appendicitis earlier. How is it? How could I have foreseen this ?! "Why are you silent, girl, let's count the lambs or tell us poems, you can't be silent!" What nafig poems ????? Are you out of your mind ?! Then I began to pray out loud, and for some reason they gave general anesthesia.

The anesthesiologist finally took my hand, I feel a needle in the bend of my elbow, curses that the vein is deeply gone. Then a request is made to count to ten and immediately a growing dizziness rolls over, but instead of counting, I suddenly flirt - I smile at the anesthesiologist, I say to him "bye-bye." Everything.

Then suddenly again the tiles in the ceiling, the ward and strange sensations. I am ashamed. As if I got drunk yesterday and played tricks. I ask the girls if I behaved well when I was recovering from anesthesia? They laugh at me and calm me down. The body doesn't feel anything. I just lie there. I endured everything, once again I survived and endured. And, probably, this is more about emotional experiences than about physical sensations.

We never returned to the previous topic. And I went home in the evening. I hate hospitals and run away at the first opportunity. As I left, I wished Lyuba all the best. But the story about a girl who suddenly, 20 years later, met with negative feelings suppressed because of love for her mother, I took with me. Into my professional collection of psychosomatics stories.

Lyubochka …. female happiness to you and a happy pregnancy!