Hi All -

My 2nd hip surgery that I had last year which led to my infection is a year ago from today. I'm having lots of feelings that are bringing me back to what it was like last year and it's very uncomfortable. Has anyone else experienced this? How do you cope?

I do see a therapist & will be talking about it (more) today, but just curious what you all have experienced. Thank you!

Hi,

I'm a 27yo female. I haven't really received any healthcare except dental care since I was 13, and I have a history of feeling very violated by healthcare as a child, which has traumatized me.

Logically, I know that healthcare is a thing that I should do, especially now that I'm getting older. But the very thought just completely terrifies me.

I'm afraid of feeling physically vulnerable. I'm afraid of losing my ability to speak and advocate for myself out of fear.

Last year, I finally went to a dentist for the first time in a long time, and that was a big step for me. However, my blood pressure was sky-high when they took it (due to anxiety), and I felt frozen and unable to speak. And for me, dental care is and has always been way LESS anxiety-inducing than other forms of healthcare.

Usually, it's difficult for me to even bring myself to sit down in a healthcare setting. My whole being is screaming at me to stay standing, because that is a less physically vulnerable position. I don't want to change into a gown. I don't want to be touched. I could maybe tolerate non-invasive touch from a medical professional if it was at least explained to me first, but by that, I mean someone touching a casual part of the body, like limbs.

The thought of anything truly invasive is very distressing to me, because my trauma involved invasive procedures that were done VERY MUCH without my consent (and even involved restraint while I was in significant distress. I won't go into details here, but I do have posts that go into details). I can't imagine a pap smear or a pelvic exam. And it's not because I'm afraid of pain; I doubt I'd find them particularly painful. I just don't think I'd be able to handle them emotionally. Being given meds MIGHT help, but part of me is terrified I'd have an intense reaction AFTERWARDS if I was given meds to allow me to be able to handle them in the moment. Like, the thought of being "drugged" during an invasive/traumatic event...somehow doesn't feel very comforting. I'm afraid that when it wears off, I'll think of everything that happened and it'll be very triggering for me. Or, alternatively, if I don't remember what happened after the drug wears off, I'm certain that that would be even more triggering for me. That'd probably traumatize the shit out of me.

Another thing that makes healthcare seem so out of reach is that I don't actually know what happens during healthcare appointments for women. I haven't had one since I was 13, and that was a pediatrician appointment. Also, it was so long ago. I don't know what to expect. Because I don't have much of a concept of how appointments "typically" go, it's difficult for me to even think about how to advocate for myself or what accomodations I could even ask for.

It would be easy for me to just never receive healthcare, but I actually do fear cancer and premature death. So, does anyone have any insight or tips on HOW I might be able to access healthcare, how to advocate for myself, what to expect?

I had a really bad experience at the gynocologist today and I wonder what the doctor was thinking. Calling me stupid and incompetent isnt going to make me do what you say, its going to make me never go to a doctor again

This was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had, especially during one of the most vulnerable times of my life. I came to Tucker Pavilion at Chippenham Hospital during a severe mental health crisis hoping to receive compassionate care. Instead, I left feeling traumatized, unheard, and worse than when I arrived.
While waiting to receive stitches after seriously harming myself, I was left bleeding in a common area while people walked by. During that time, I heard a nurse make a humiliating comment about my injuries. I reported it to other staff members, but as far as I know, nothing was ever done.
Before agreeing to admission, I specifically asked if I would have a private room because I become easily overstimulated. I remember being told I would have one, but I was assigned a roommate anyway. The situation became overwhelming, and I eventually had to switch rooms.
When I later wanted to leave voluntarily, I believe incorrect information about my discharge plan contributed to me being placed under a Temporary Detention Order (TDO). I felt like nobody listened when I tried to explain what had happened, and security was called when I tried to advocate for myself. My TDO hearing was confusing, and I felt disrespected throughout the process.
The doctors spent only a couple of minutes with me each day, asking the same questions without having meaningful conversations about my treatment. I felt rushed, unheard, and left with concerns about my diagnosis, medication decisions, and constantly changing discharge plans.
The nursing staff was one of my biggest concerns. In my experience, many nurses were dismissive, ignored patients asking for help, and spent most of their time behind the nurses’ station except during meals or medication passes. Medication distribution often took an extremely long time. Ironically, I found the student nurses and CNAs to be much more compassionate and attentive than many of the regular nursing staff.
Mental health patients deserve dignity, respect, honest communication, and individualized care. Unfortunately, that was not my experience here. I hope the hospital takes patient feedback seriously and works to improve the way people in crisis are treated.

This review reflects my personal experience.

The worst part of having medical PTSD is having felt less than human in their eyes, being made to feel actually worthless and having them stab you in the back when you were at your most powerless and vulnerable

Just had probably the worst doctor's visit of my life. I went to establish care with a nurse practitioner, and we were going over my diagnoses. Suddenly she got very argumentative and wanted to know why I wasn't more active. I explained how debilitating my symptoms were, but she kept arguing that I should be more active and repeatedly criticized me for not being 'ambitious' enough.

I have at least four serious diagnoses, including CPTSD and severe depression.

She abruptly ended our appointment by telling me that I wasn't putting in enough effort to work with someone as 'hardcore' as her and snarkily told me, "Good luck with your life."

I cried for an hour afterward.

Anyway, I'm going to report her, but any advice on who to get people to listen to me would be most welcome.

Oh, the receptionist and another nurse saw me crying and comforted me. I got the feeling they've had to clean up after her before.

Hello

I am a very late diagnosed autistic/adhd. I am 50 now, was diagnosed at 48. I've lived most of my life not realizing that my actions, vocabulary, and decisions were alienating me from friends, family, and society.

I found out because of a hospitalizing injury. I had an injury from massage therapy. The diagnoses at 8mo into the injury were:
- hiatal hernia
- fat hernia around xiphoid
- moderate rectus diastasis
- celiac plexus trauma
- celiac artery compression; 90% stenosis. (MALs)

The pain was debilitating.

Despite many efforts to find treatment, doctors were at best unhelpful, at worst bullying and neglectful.

I had DR's in the ER tell me I "Just had poo, go home". I had one UCLA health DR scream at me I was "playing a victim" I've "never done anything with my life", and should see a psychiatrist.

This happened towards the end of the year. By this time, being left in debilitating pain, the injury worsened, causing trauma to my obliques and transversus muscles, that abruptly shut down.

This is why I had seen the DR who bullied me. I left his office in tears.

Going into 2023, the injury had advanced:
- trauma to trunk muscles causing foot to head instability
- global trauma to skin which felt like second degree burns under my skin

I have gotten confirmation from a Dermotopathologist, and a current facial specialist, that the large tear in a layer of connective tissue, and being left in horrible pain/stress, contributed to the global skin trauma. It felt like my skin was literally on fire, and lasted over a year.

Talking with therapists and psychologists about what was happening, as I was deeply traumatized, I discovered I had autism/adhd, and did evaluations.

Trying to seek justice through UCLA's interior burocracies proved a waste. No apology was ever given for what happened, despite having a witness in the room and a notarized statement. When I escalated with them, the lawyer assigned to my case claimed she would contact all witnesses during the investigation, which she didn't, and her final report claiming there was no evidence to pursue a case claimed she contacted all witnesses, which she didn't.

By the end of 2024 I had begged more than 50 lawyers to help, none of them did. I was in so much pain I was scream crying all night, un able to sleep, unable to eat, but still defecating on myself randomly.

I tried reporting to the medical board, while I was arranging my notarized statement from my witness. I had tried to send it to the agent working on my case, but the email was blocked and they never received my witness testimony.
Every attempt to work with the DCA and the MB to acknowledge what was happening resulted in more lies from the MB. I literally have the document that specifically says they blocked my email. Which is illegal and discriminatory.

I have recently met a DR who evaluated the damaged facia, and mine is now very bad. I ruled them out pots and eds

Talking with my therapist, this is not uncommon for neurodivergents to experience.

I even wrote a massive packet of legal information and sent to the HHS, other CA and national institutions, literally nobody helps adults with autism and medmal. nobody.

I am so physically and mentally broken, and feel like I lost all the fights, and I'll never be healthy again, and want to die. I have been diagnosed multiple times with PTSD related to the medical negligence and poor treatment.

I'm sorry if this makes anyone upset. I literally don't know what to do now.

- K

Absolutely no pressure at all to follow it, but I just wanted to see what kinds of posts you all would be interested in. I am a survivor of some pretty significant medical trauma. Already talked about VCUGs, and am planning to talk soon on other topics like birth trauma, the origins of gynecology, pain clinics, medical malpractice, and other medical trauma related topics.

If anyone has other ideas of what they’d like to see on a page like this, though, I would love to hear your ideas! Or, if you’d like to share a story with me that I could share on there (anonymously), please let me know!

https://www.instagram.com/medicaltraumasurvivorsalliance?igsh=MXJoZHZncXFnNnoy&utm_source=qtr

Hey I'm 34 I've experienced over 22 surgerys at u f m

2 heart surgery and a back surgery I have degeorge syndrome

Lost my mom at 15 in 2008

Lost my dad 2 years ago

And im only 34

And I feel like not going on sometimes

MLS

I was taking my meds at the mental hospital and the staff was clicking through tabs on the computer behind the pharmacy and there was a tab that was an ultrasound. What was that? Not to mention cameras in the bathrooms. This was at St Vincent’s in Westport Connecticut.

Has anyone else experienced abuse, bullying, cruelty and harassment by the NHS?

A lot of the staff really hate women and the medical violence I experienced by gynaecology and urology after sexual violence was extremely traumatising.

Sorry for some grammar mistakes cuz I’m not an English native speaker.🫡🫡
I’m currently an 16yo A-level student who willing to study in medical college and becoming a doctor in the future. I’ve made this decision bc I get attracted by its potential high earnings and job security, and also the kinda “cool”feelings.
But the reality is somehow hypochondria(more detailed is cancer hypochondria)and OCD started to bother me last year and my whole life and mood became shit, I spent most of my time panicking and heading to the hospital for examinations. Things get better after a few months and I was sure that I will definitely be ok for hospital stuff.
The thing is I’m currently attending a summer camp in an pretty large international local hospital(they get cozier environments and more organized system than most of the local hospitals)The first day was fine and everyone being so nice, the leader doc of our team showed us around almost everywhere of the hospital including mortuary.
But the second day which was yesterday we started to do department rotation which means each student will spend one day alone visiting one department, and I was delivered to the imaging department. During my tour in the CT control room I saw them taking CT for a 73yo patient with terminal cancer. I suddenly felt both thrilled and frightened, started to watch carefully what the docs wrote for report of the patient. And after a day finished I saw a rlly young cancer patient sitting on a wheelchair with a cervical gear and his father stood behind him. I couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to the patient and at the same time getting scared. After that I came home, felt extremely stressful, and thinking of everything related to death and cancer in the hospital. It seems like these kinda scenes triggered my memory of fear of cancer and death last year, so I also experienced panic attack at middle night.
As this is an international hospital, the high cost already drives away 95%of the local patients and cancer patients, but I still got so frightened only bc of 2 patients…It will be such a huge challenge for me working in hospitals in the future. I hate myself been so timid and sensitive, I always overestimate my abilities…but the feeling of the mixture of excitement and curiosity and fear still drive me to the hospital camp today even when I feel so much stressed.Is this feeling common or normal at the beginning of get in touch with medical field?
Should I consist my dream of being a doc and apply for medical college, or should I switch to other major like biology technology?😥
Sincere gratitude for everyone who have read till here, thank you for spending time reading my rambling words:)hope u have a nice day and take care!

i am just wondering if anyone else withholds (or even lies) to their provider and why?

i do it to have control over my encounters. plus, i hate the fact that if i go to a specialists i don't want them seeing my other docs. if i am not up to date with screenings (say colonoscopy), i don't want my adhd doc wasting time pushing stuff not related to my adhd.

also, as so many posts on this sub, a provider makes an incorrect assessment and puts difficult patient, then that label will follow you for ever. how does one ever correct that? they promise privacy, but they don't deliver.

Please read …

A relative of mine was going through menopause when she started experiencing severe abdominal pain and discomfort. During her annual exam, her doctor performed an ultrasound and found what was described as a grape-sized cyst. She was told it was most likely a normal cyst related to menopause and nothing to worry about.
But the pain didn’t stop. It got worse.
She went to the emergency room twice. Both times, she only received an abdominal X-ray. She was told she was constipated, given medication to “clear herself out,” and sent home. She repeatedly said, “I’m not constipated,” but she followed the instructions anyway because she trusted the medical advice. Trusted her doctor who agreed with constipation.
Her symptoms continued to worsen until her family took her back to the ER and insisted on more advanced imaging. This time, an MRI revealed that what had once been thought to be a small cyst had become a grapefruit-sized tumor.
She underwent emergency surgery, was placed in a medically induced coma, and was ultimately diagnosed with Stage IV ovarian cancer.

Imagine having your best friend die and being forced to sit in the room where she died for 5 days. Would that send you crazy? Would that be so inhumane.

My mum passed away in the hospital on the Tuesday, I had to return every day to that hospital for 4 days after because I was 40 weeks pregnant with pre ecoampsia and had to go in daily for BP checks because they couldn't induce me.

I was finally induced on the Saturday. They didn't give me any information about inductions prior to it. Made me sit hooked up to machines constantly which I wasn't informed or asked if I consented to. The midwife made me pee into a comode and only left the room when I asked her. I also had a student sat in front of me watching me constantly whilst having contractions. A midwife told me they might need to do a c section which I told her I couldn't have (I was still aware of my surroundings at this point). After hours of fetal distress the doctors came in again and said I needed a cat 2 emergency c section. They threw a piece of paper in my face I couldn't even read it. I managed to sign but couldn't date it because I didn't have the capacity to at that time. I had to undress in front of 10 + health professionals, take all my jewelry off including my mother's ring ( I wanted to wear it when I had my baby to feel close to her I couldn't have that). I don't remember much about the birth I think my brain blocked it out because it was so traumatic.

I was then forced onto the maternity ward which was next to the ward where my mum had passed days prior. My son then got a chest infection and they insisted he stayed and I stayed. They could see I was in significant distress I cried 20 + times a day constantly telling them I was discharging myself, but they said I couldn't. I told them I had to get away from the hospital and that my son could stay and I would visit him or his dad would stay with him. I also asked if he could come in when his antibiotic was due ebery 24 hours, but was denied. They did not accommodate what was best for me or my baby and I have nightmares every night and I can't sleep. They made us stay 5 days and I really wanted to die.

We finally got home and the next day the midwife came round to the house and because my bp was high insisted and bullied me into going back to the hospital even though I told her I wasn't going. She said I could have a stroke, I accepted the risk, but chose not to return. She was at my house for an hour and wouldn't leave so I said I would go, but then stayed at home. This happened for another 2 days whoch I actually went to the triage unit and told them I refused to be admitted. My bp was high because of the significant distress they caused me. I needed support and kindness and just received judgement and midwives rolling their eyes.

Due to my significant distress I have discharged myself from all NHS services including perinatal services. The NHS has changed the way I view healthcare. I will never go to the gp again or any involvement with the business. The thought of my son having vaccinations at the gp makes me feel sick. The NHS failed me and my mum (they neglected her when she needed them) and I don't want them to hurt my precious boy. My partner is bulling me into vaccines and that I should compromise, but when they can't even give you a leaflet woth side effects or be straight up about the vaccine how can you ever trust them. When I die I know it will be a relief to know I never needed the NHS. People should be allowed to make their own choices in life.

Just want to vent here, if you guys don't mind. Story is long and happened just yesterday, so bear with me. I still can't believe my last 48hrs and hope that venting here will help me process it.

During a trip I was very much looking forward to, my once thought hemorrhoid developed into a perianal abscess (I know, just my luck). It popped naturally during a music festival and I was in absolute agony. Went to the hospital to get it checked, a small town hospital in Slovakia. Luckily my partner is Slovakian so he could help with the translation.

Got there in pain, but I had no idea that I was about to have the worst experience of my life. They saw me right away, explained the situation, main doctor (female) tells me to lay down and take off my underwear. The area was already super sensitive and I told her so, but she didn't seem to care. They cleaned the area and I saw them unwrapping a scalpel. I start to panic and ask them "you're going to give me anesthesia right? RIGHT???", to which she replies "calm down" while jabbing my infected abscess. I screamed and cried in pain. Then she introduces a drain into it. More scream and tears. I beg her to stop. Then, when I thought it was over, they open the would and stick a small strip of gauze into it (packing). At this point my body is in shock. They wrap it up and send me on my way. I say I'm about to pass out, they tell me to "drink a Coca Cola" and to return the next day.

I was like no way I will go back to the same place, so we head to Bratislava where my partner is from (we both live abroad). Today I go to another hospital to get the wound checked out. They were slightly nicer this time, at least would let me know what they were doing. I thought it was going to be fine. I was wrong. They shove the gauze inside the wound AGAIN, despite my crying and screaming. They call my partner. I say I don't want packing done to me. They say it's necessary. I hold him and scream. They finish it up and send me on my way. I am absolutely destroyed, mentally and physically. I feel so violated, handled like a piece of meat, when I was in absolute distress, in a different country, when they speak a language I don't understand and were literally TORTURING ME.

Tomorrow, despite the pain, we're going back to my country of residence. Today's doctor told me I had to go to the hospital to get this procedure done everyday. I was like ABSOLUTELY NOT. I'd rather die, and I'm a tough woman. Talked to a doctor friend from my country and she was horrified to hear that they didn't discuss pain management with me. She also said the whole packing thing is not necessary.

I am just completely disoriented right now. Just want to go home. I guess I hadn't processed that I suffered medical violence not once, but twice. Now I've scheduled therapy to deal with the aftermath.

Thanks for listening/reading, and I hope we all go through this.

I was brought to the ER and met with a psychiatrist. They weren't my normal psychiatrist, just one that primarily works in the ER.

This psychiatrist wrote something awful about me on the certification to hold me as an involuntary patient. I accepted the whole involuntary patient thing, but not the statement she wrote (I don't want to dox myself, so I'm not saying exactly what it was).

I filed a complaint against the psychiatrist. She then proceeded to lie and say that in the ER interview I confessed to doing drugs in my home, self harming in my home, and saying awful things about my family. None of this is true.

It didn't matter though. It was my word (patient with mental illness) against hers (psychiatrist). They completely believed her.

Now I struggle to trust any psychiatrist, including my own. I know that they can literally say anything they want about me, and they will be believed. It is a relationship where I have zero power. That is so frightening for me.

I’ve been wondering if anyone else has experienced something like this.

I’m 25 now, and over the last week I’ve been requesting all of my childhood medical records and reading through them. I thought it would just satisfy my curiosity, but instead it has completely changed how I see one of the biggest events of my life.

When I was 13, I was diagnosed with scoliosis.

My curve progressed incredibly fast. In about six months, it went from around 26 degrees to 57 degrees during a huge growth spurt. My spine had started compressing nerves and was even causing bladder problems, so my orthopedic surgeon recommended spinal fusion surgery as soon as possible.

Oddly enough, I wasn’t scared. I was actually excited.

I was tired of watching my back get more crooked every month, and I couldn’t wait to finally have a straight spine again.

The surgery itself went well. I came home thinking the hard part was over.

A few days later everything changed.

I became extremely tired. I was vomiting, couldn’t stay awake, and my lips started turning blue. My mom immediately called 911 instead of trying to drive me herself.

Looking back, that decision may have saved my life.

After arriving at the emergency room, I deteriorated incredibly quickly.

From what my records describe, I had a rare postoperative complication. My breathing became severely depressed, I aspirated stomach contents into my lungs after vomiting, and I developed catastrophic respiratory failure. Shortly after arriving at the hospital, I went into cardiac arrest.

The doctors were able to resuscitate me after about two minutes.

I was intubated, placed on a ventilator, and spent about five days on life support in the pediatric ICU while my family waited to see if I would survive.

I don’t remember any of that. What I do remember is waking up days later.

I was hallucinating because of the ICU stay and sedation. I saw people who weren’t there, thought elevators were buses, and experienced things that felt completely real. At the time I had no idea those hallucinations were a common ICU phenomenon.

Eventually I was extubated, slowly started recovering, and somehow made it home.

At the time, I never really thought of myself as “traumatized.”

I was 13. Kids don’t usually sit around thinking, “Wow, I almost died.”

I was mostly focused on getting back to school, hanging out with my friends, and moving on with life.

Everyone around me celebrated that I survived. I did too. Then I just…kept living.

Now I’m 25.

I’ve been reading physician notes, ICU records, operative reports, lab results, and seeing words like cardiac arrest, mechanical ventilation, life support, acute respiratory failure, and reading about how critical my condition actually was.

For the first time, I’m realizing how close I came to not being here.

I’ve also been thinking about what my mom experienced during those days. As a teenager, I couldn’t fully grasp that she was standing beside my hospital bed wondering if she was about to lose her daughter.

I couldn’t truly understand how terrifying it must have been for my family because I simply didn’t have the emotional maturity yet.

I do now.

It’s strange because this happened 12 years ago, but emotionally it almost feels new.

I’m grieving something I survived. I’m processing an event that technically ended over a decade ago.

Sometimes I’ll look at old pictures of myself from that time and think, “She had absolutely no idea how close she came to dying.”

Has anyone else experienced this?

Have you had a major childhood medical event that you didn’t fully understand until years later? Did reading your medical records or learning more about what happened change the way you viewed your experience?

I’d really appreciate hearing from anyone who’s gone through something similar! Thank you for reading my story.