Recently, I received a story from a friend, who wishes to remain anonymous.

She believes that health care professionals do not listen to the needs of those patients who have been raped.

The question was raised in my mind: Do we really listen to any of our patients?

May the following story remind us to "listen."

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I am a victim from childhood rape. I stay away from doctor's offices as much as I possibly can.

A trip to the hospital is out of the question. I found a dentist who "gets it" and simply knocks me out.

My medical doctors do the same.

But it is very very difficult to make the medical profession hear all that.

The big problem for me with the medical and dental community is that everyone thinks they can help me get past my fears. If that could be done, it would have been done long ago.

This is not rational fear, and it is not born of ignorance.

What I go through is Post Traumatic Stress and I can't do anything to stop my reactions.

The biggest issue is the dern "down their nose" attitude. One nurse in the hospital one time (I was there for tummy problems, and knew the nurse from the nursing home, but she had forgotten me).

She came in and very "down her nose" said to me "Mrs. Z, are you under any unusual stress?" I wanted to pop her one.

I said, "well, yes, I am. I direct five counties of volunteers for the United Way, I have two teenage children and my husband is blind and is a trucker. I'd say I am a bit stressed."

She left me alone after that.

The overall attitude of the medical community is "get over it." And I have been treated psychologically by the best.

I have led a good life. I have two beautiful adult kids, both happy productive members of society.

The only two things I cannot do without great difficulty are medical and dental. I have been told by therapists that those two things probably will never resolve.

I am a senior citizen now and all of that was very long ago.

So what do I want? I had a perfect doctor one time, who was an older fellow, who did not have to touch me to treat me. He did everything by running blood work, etc. (Needles are not my favorite thing, but I am not terrified of them and can do that relatively easy).

But he took the time to listen to me tell him what I could and could not do, and he worked with me from there. Sadly, he has now left town.

One more story.

One time I had to have a stress test and EKG, a horrid experience for me to try to get through. My doctor had talked to the heart doc and explained, but when I got to the office, somehow the tech had not gotten the message.

And oh, it was bad, very bad. I never even entered the room. She and I had serious words before I ever got back there.

When I realized the doctor wasn't there and hadn't said anything to her about me, I said, "Well, you are going to have to work with me on this."

(I started out smiling and pleasant as I could be with my anxiety so high.)

She said, "You are the one who has to cooperate with ME!".

I left.

Office staff chased me to the car to sign a dang release. It was a big scene. I went straight to my doctor's office and we rescheduled at the hospital, where the nurse /tech and staff were all aware, let me be in charge, and we did it my way and it all worked out just fine.

It's all about listening and being heard. I don't want some big emotional event, for me or for the staff. But I do know what I can tolerate and what I cannot. Most of them just simply do not take the time to listen and do not want to deal with anybody who has special needs. When I had gallbladder surgery, I talked very bluntly and directly with the anesthesiologist beforehand, and briefly told him my story and my needs. I had two special requests:

1) - I wanted to bring earphones and tape player to listen to angel music while in that holding room.

2) - I did not want to see or hear anything. Nothing. Especially not see any silver equipment, etc. I wanted to be out long before I ever left that holding room.

He heard me and he was agreeable.

I was not afraid of the surgery. I trusted the surgeon totally. I was afraid I would see something that would set me off.

Silver things do that (medical equipment).

No, I was not raped by medical people but they had to repair the damage of my 6 year old self with sterile metal tools.

When he came in, he could tell I was upset.

"Where is your tape player and earphones?"

Me: "Well, they would not let me bring that back here".

He ran out of the room.

He was livid, and came back quickly with my earphones and my little tape player full of angel music.

All was well. The surgery was a success! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Thank you, my friend for sharing what must be a difficult story for you to tell.

However if it helps our profession to "get it," then you have served a great purpose.