IT'S MY BODY AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO
Adele Cox, MA
Youniversoul Thoughts: My Doctor's Visit
Itís been several weeks since my last entry, and itís been an interesting couple of months. Among other things,
for the second time this year (2007) I find myself battling the symptoms of cold and flu. While I suppose many
people would not find that news-worthy, I am someone who usually only gets sick a couple times a year total, so
this is a situation to which Iím quite unaccustomed.
For the past several years when Iíve gotten sick, itís hit me hard for about a day or so when pretty much all
I can do is sleep and try to drink water or juice to stay hydrated. After that, thereís been perhaps some lingering
congestion or a cough that lasts another day or so, but then itís over for months or even the rest of the year.
Iíve come to expect that, when I get sick Iím out of commission for a couple of days, but in less than a week
Iím feeling 100% myself again. So for me, two bouts of illness (each lasting a week or more) in the span of six
weeks is at best unfamiliar, and leaves me wondering if my body might be trying to send me a ďdeeperĒ message.
Perhaps because my past bouts of cold or flu have been so predictable, I donít usually go to the doctor or take
medication. But ironically my annual checkup happened to be scheduled the week after my first cold, so I mentioned
it to my doctor in case there was anything she thought I should be aware of. Not really expecting a response, I
was quite surprised at how quickly she began recommending different medications to address my symptoms Ė take this
for aches, take that for congestion. Part of me knew she just wanted to help me feel better fast, but for me as a
holistic practitioner, Iím always surprised when recommendations are given with very little knowledge or attention
to the wider context of the patient/clientís life.
For instance, what if my congestion symptoms were actually an allergic or biochemical reaction to all the sugar,
dairy, and fatty foods Iíd consumed over the recent holidays? Or what if the aches were simply a result of having
been sick in bed for two days? What if my flu-like symptoms overall were actually signaling hormonal or chemical
changes going on in my body? None of that could be discovered if the focus was on solely on removing the discomfort
of the symptoms; I'd miss the chance to listen to whatever messages my body might be sending me.
Another thing about my checkup appointment: my doctor has been urging me to get a mammogram since my 39th birthday,
and this year I finally conceded. I have many reasons why Iíve opted against having this test over the years, but
part of me theorized that perhaps I ďshouldnít judge something until Iíve actually tried itĒ, and it has been a useful
tool to many women in the past. So with as much an open mind as I could manage, I set off to radiology to join ranks
with so many 40+ women taking that responsibility for their health care.
But as the exam started, I kept hearing thoughts running through my head: "Are you kidding me? Is this for real?
People do this every year? Thereís no way Iím doing this ever again!"
It wasnít that experience was "bad" Ė the technician was as understanding as she could be, and while it was
uncomfortable, it was not excruciatingly painful or shameful. Yet I noticed my mind telling me that I should detach
my attention and essence enough from my body to just let the technician move and push and squish and stretch my
breasts and belly and shoulders and arms to make for the best picture.
But there was the rub: I do not want to detach myself from my bodyís experience. I strive for myself (and I
encourage my clients) to stay present in the body, to be aware, attuned, and attentive to whatís happening in the
body. So it presented me with quite a dilemma: part of me felt ďin order to get though this, I need to mentally
check outĒ, but another part of me wanted to be present and not check out but wasnít sure how to process this experience.
I found that I had to allow both of those parts to co-exist for a long time after the appointment in order to
understand my process. On the one hand, I kept chastising myself: ďOh, I should just stop thinking about it Ė after all,
itís over now, right? And yea, it was weird and somewhat degrading to have someone kind of pawing and handling my body
like that, but she was just doing her job and if I stop thinking about it Iíll stop feeling badĒ. But the truth was
I had to honor the fact that part of me did feel degraded, and did feel like someone was pawing me.
In honoring those parts of me, I got to let myself see that, no matter what the technicianís best intent may have been,
this was my experience and it was valid simply because it was my experience.
As I let those different parts of myself have their say, I came to realize that much of my emotional reaction to the
exam was related to touch. As a Somatic Therapist, touch is an essential quality to my healing work, but it can only
be healing when accompanied with patience, presence, trust, kindness, respect, and grace. I realized that my body did
not feel these qualities in my physical exam from my doctor, in the blood tests, or in the mammogram. Even though each
practitioner had wonderful "bedside manners", I noticed that in my experience, I felt poked, prodded, and pawed.
I draw that distinction deliberately to emphasize that my experience was not "their fault" -- it was no one's fault --
but my experience was still valid, and it was important that I acknowledge my experience simply because it was how I
I know now that if (or maybe when :-) I have my next mammogram, I'll know that "checking out" and leaving my body
in the hands of a stranger does not give me the experience of feeling touched with kindness and respect. Instead, no
matter how well-intentioned the practitioners are, it's most important that I treat myself with kindness and respect
by staying present in my experience -- speaking up for myself, expressing what's uncomfortable and saying what I need
to feel seen and validated, getting my questions answered, and so on. It's not enough to say "my doctor doesn't take
time for me" -- I need to believe that I am valuable enough to deserve feeling well-treated, and respond to my body's
needs appropriately. It may not make my physical examinations any more pleasant per se, but at least I'll know that
I didn't leave "me" on a stranger's exam table being poked and pawed.
I welcome your comments. Feel free to contact me directly at
AdeleCox@Youniversoul.com. Until next time, stay well.
Posted by Adele Cox, MA, CMT on Monday, February 5, 2007 at 2:43 PM.
Note: Click here to see all my blog postings at "Youniversoul Thoughts",