Three Throw Up Exposures In One
I came in and she commented we are wearing almost the same color. I looked. Mine shirt was more pink and hers more purple and I also told her hers was pretty. I asked her how she was feeling motioning to my bag. She asked me what it is and I told her my husband’s concoction. I asked her if she felt up to doing a throw up exposure. She said she’s a trooper. I said how it’s very strong smelling. Probably the vegetables especially the broccoli – you know how that gets. She nodded.
I told her that my daughter called Monday night wanting to warn me that my grandson had a sore throat and his tummy hurt. He sometimes throws up with strep. She gave him my granddaughter’s Zofran because she said her and her boyfriend aren’t good about cleaning up throw up. I told her she’s 100% better then I am. I turn away, I run. My therapist said no one likes to look. Everyone looks away when they clean it up (she showed me with her hand and looking away). But my daughter and her boyfriend aren’t afraid like I am and are more normal about it. That’s what she knows I want to be like. Yes. So I told her what I wanted to do. I have an extra bag to split it in two and I had some chuncked up pieces (it was granola bars but I didn’t say). I already had a plan. We’ll go to the bathroom and do this by first spilling some on the ground for me to clean up and then down the toilet. And then we’ll go outside and throw it on to the ground.
She said how well prepared I was. She wanted to know what we had to do to talk about it first. I said that I have to think that it’s real and not just food. It would me more authentic that way. She wants me to stay with it and look at it. Also to pay attention to the sound. I can’t remember what else we said but soon we were ready to go. I mentioned to grab my coat because we are going to be going outside. She jumped up and got her green coat with blue inside and maybe a hood, out of the closet in the hallway. I followed behind her. We were walking out and I commented that the massage therapist must wonder where we go. She asked me if I ever share with her the things we work on. Oh, no.
She said we’ll go to the bathroom down the hall because more people are around the one downstairs. Not many people use the one upstairs. So that’s what we did. She put her coat on the sink counter. I did, too on the opposite side. I got everything out of the bag (had told her I had double bagged it because of the smell) and said it’s even worse because it has that freezer smell, too. First I asked her to hold the extra bag so I could pour half in. She did. Then she gave me it back to put the crunchy stuff in. I told her I feel like we are cooking something. I put the crunchy stuff in both bags. Then I poured water inside the first one. First I asked her if it’s too much water. She said no. I commented I should look at it. Yes. I did but not very long saying how gross it was.
Now … where to do this. We looked around on the floor. She said to do it inside the bigger stall in case someone comes in. So in I went and she stood just outside looking. I squatted down and leaned against the wall. First I looked at it. Then I had to pour it out (not all of it) on the floor. I hesitated but I did. It was gross. It looked very real. Even the liquid spread across the floor some. She told me to look at it. I told her I could only look at it a couple seconds at a time. She asked me where I was at. 10. Then later when I could look longer I said an 8. She told me to look and soon I’ll get tired of looking at it. She said if she locked the door and forced me to stay in there 7 hours I’d be cured. I looked at her doubtfully and she knew she wouldn’t do that. I told her what I would do is put something over it like towels to cover for 7 hours until someone got home to clean it up.
I told her how good she was looking at it. She stared a long time and I’m guessing hoping I’d do the same. I know because it was hard for me to look for a long period of time so I looked at her just staring and staring. Guess it didn’t bother her like me. She told me to look at the pattern it made. I said it looked like a hill or a mushroom. I asked her if she can smell it. No – she’s still a little stuffed up. Can I? Yes. I kept wanting to clean it up. She had me look a little longer. Then I could.
So I got up and got some paper towels. I asked to put it on top first? Yes. I told her I was going to throw some in the toilet in case there wasn’t enough left in the bag. She nodded like that was fine. She moved the trash can over to me. I scooped up a couple handfuls and threw them in the toilet. She said that was very good. She was telling me the whole time to pretend like I was with my grandson. I’m the Nana. Nana’s can do everything and are strong. And to help my grandson because he’ll probably be upset. I told her he’d be 30 feet away from me.
I put the yucky paper towels, after dumping 2 times in the toilet, in the trash can. Then I got up to get more paper towels and cleaned up the rest. I told her I hope no one comes in. She said it would be very interesting to explain if someone did. She said I did a very good job. I threw everything away and washed my hands. When I did I got a little soap on her coat. I tried to wipe it off. I’m not sure if she saw that because when I told her she took her coat and got a paper towel (with water on it) to try more. I told her, “It’s just soap.”
Now it was time to put the rest in the toilet. It already looked gross from what I dumped in there. I told her it looks like diarrhea and asked her if it looks real. Yes. Like on the floor she said it looked very real. I almost slipped in that spot. It was hard to dump it in. She wanted me to look as I was dumping and I just couldn’t. I dumped and I did hear her say, “A little more.” Then I looked at it. She had me do this for a minute and then I could flush it. It looked gross. Whew! Now to go outside.
I took the other bag (this one a Ziploc) and filled it was water. I had already put the crunchy stuff in it. I zip locked it closed and took a paper towel to wipe off the top. I was going to throw my plastic bags away but asked her if I needed them. At first she said no but then said to keep them incase we run into someone on our way out and I want to hide it. So I stuffed them in my coat pocket and we left.
We got into the hallway. I looked – no one – good. Then we went down the hall to the stairs, down the stairs, the little lobby area, down a few more stairs and out the back door. She suggested to go out back. Yes, and to the side, I told her. So that’s what we did. On the way I said how it’s nice with the sun shining but it’s so cold. She said yes, it’s deceiving. I said in the car it’s warm. I told her how cold it was walking to the car and back at the basketball game we went to last night. She also asked me about this weekend and the holiday. Both were brief because it didn’t take long to get outside.
We looked over to the side of the building. I asked if we should do it in the snow or on the muddy/grassy area. I said you can see it better in the snow but what if someone sees it and she agreed that wouldn’t be good. But she left it up to me. We found this nice little area in the muddy/grassy part. I started to feel like I needed to go to the bathroom. I think I moved around a little, trying not to, but I don’t think she noticed. Also with having my coat on it hides things. I knew she wanted me to look and feel it. I asked her, she said yes and I did for a couple seconds. Then it got worse, I sort of dipped down once or twice and said, “I feel like I need to go to the bathroom,” I told her and then I think I crossed my legs.
Without any hesitation she told me to put down the bag and go inside and use the downstairs one. Nothing on my part or her part about trying to wait. Or to do this and then go. The more I think about it now it’s best because I’d really want to hurry it through and I might not have been able to concentrate fully on it. At first she was going to come inside with me but then told me she’ll just wait outside for me. So I put the bag down and walked across that back parking lot and went inside, down the stairs, down the hall into that bathroom. I couldn’t hold it all the way and started going. But it wasn’t too bad – but enough to see if you looked. And definitely feel. So I went, washed my hands and went back outside.
She had moved closer to the stairs area, still outside, and was watching for me. She looked relieved when she saw me. I’m wondering if she was half expecting, from experiences, that I may have had an accident. Then she’d have to come in and ask and then get me clothes. But I was able to cover it up, having my coat on and pulling my shirt down. I didn’t think she’d be looking at my crouch anyway and she didn’t. We walked back over to where the bag was on the ground. She commented about a bird there eyeing it. I told her he probably wants to eat it. Yes. I picked it up and knew I had to throw it.
I was hesitating, of course. I tried to put my leg up kind of crossed to hide my wet spot on my pants. I’m sure she didn’t notice but I knew I was doing it because I was very self conscience about it. I looked at the contents of the bag and said, “I guess I need to do this all at once – fast.” “Yes.” It was hard to let go. She said to pretend we are at the zoo and it’s my grandson throwing up. I can be the strong Nana and do this. Earlier she asked (I think in the bathroom) to pretend it’s me or him. No, not me – him! She smiled. Also she told me again to pay attention to the sound. So … I told her to count 1,2,3 go and she did. I first backed away a little saying I didn’t want to get it on myself. I let loose of it and let it drip the rest of the way out of the bag. We looked at it just a minute or two and then went back inside. I threw that bag and my other 2 bags I put in my coat pocket into the trash can before we went inside the building.
We walked up the stairs and back into her office. I have no idea what we talked about because I was trying to deal with my wet pants and what to do about it. I didn’t want to tell her but I was upset about it and could tell I was going into that mode and couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Also it was wet and uncomfortable and I needed to go into the massage therapist next, lay on the table and I’m sure she’d notice.
Oh, I do remember one thing. Walking back in she told me when she was a little girl she didn’t want to have kids because she didn’t want to clean up their throw up. I was surprised she thought that. “You?” I asked thinking to myself how many times she throws up. She said it was just kid thinking. I then told her (walking up the stairs) that when we brought my first born home and I looked at this tiny spot in her crib I wasn’t sure. But I knew I had to solo it and I did. She said, yes you do. Mothers have picked up cars from their kids when they need to.
She hung up her coat, I waited behind her and we went back into her office. We sat down. She asked me how that was and how I was feeling. It was hard. She knew it. But what she didn’t know is I was dealing with the little accident I had and I couldn’t get through to anything else. She asked me what words can I use to describe it. I told her I didn’t know. I know … I was acting weird again like I get. She looked at me and took a deep breath and told me to blow it out hoping I’d do the same thing. She still thought I was upset about the exposures we just did. I couldn’t talk. I was really tense (she noted that) and uncomfortable. Finally she gave me that look that she knew something was going on when it went on longer and I wasn’t able to express myself and talk.
I knew I had to say something so I finally told her, “It’s something else.” “Something else that happened?” she asked. Yes. I think she tried to think, maybe another word or two were exchanged but then I think she caught on. I was really having trouble saying it so she asked me, “Did you have trouble making it to the bathroom?” I nodded I did and said, “It’s not a whole lot but enough.” She asked me if I changed. I guess she thought I had clothes with me but I didn’t. “No.” So she asked me if I wanted my clothes. I nodded I did. She went to her drawer and got me them and alluded to go to the bathroom to change. I was going to but I thought not and said, “Do me a favor. Just turn around. I don’t want to go back out there again.” She did. I didn’t say but I’m sure she knew I didn’t want the massage therapist to see me again. She saw us leave and come back.
She turned around and fiddled with her trinkets in the little cabinet while I changed and then I told her she can turn back. She did. She pretty much went directly back to how I was feeling about the exposures we did, kind of ignoring what happened. I wanted to ignore it too but I knew I couldn’t. It was getting in the way of talking about other things like those exposures we just did. She had given me a paper with lots of feelings on it to tell her how I was feeling. I did and she said that was a lot. She said how this was a hard one. Yes. I’m not sure if this was before I told her and changed or after. Maybe before.
So I couldn’t work on those feelings until I worked on what had just happened. I told her and we talked about it some. I told her that I don’t know what happened. She didn’t say much. She asked me how I would like to feel about it. That it’s OK. She asked me where I feel it in my body. My arms. She asked what do they want to do. Go up and down because I’m mad for it happening. She asked me what I wanted to say being so mad. I told her, “I hate you.” (meaning me) She didn’t like that. She wanted me to change it to not liking the problem – not, not liking myself.
She told me that I’m the only one who saw anything. She didn’t and no one else did unless I saw anyone when I went back in to go. No I didn’t. I told her I was glad I changed clothes. Yes and she was also glad I told her so I didn’t have to constantly deal with it and then be uncomfortable also going into the massage therapist – I need to enjoy that. So soon I felt better about it to move on. We did. I didn’t say but it was like unpeeling that layer (the accident) before I could move on to the exposures themselves.
We talked more about the exposures themselves. Yes it was very hard. She said again that I have to be the strong Nana. She stressed it getting easier and imagining myself alone with my grandson having to do it. Again, I said I’d have him 10 feet away. That’s not good. I don’t like being like that. You have to comfort a child when that happens and I run. We had also talked about my most fear about it is me throwing up and also someone else. She was understanding it. We talked a little about the smell. This was just food and I didn’t want to be turned off if my husband makes something similar to it. Real throw up would smell really bad.
When we were done I asked her if we could talk about other things now. I had said in the beginning that I wanted to do this first and then I have some other things to talk about, when she asked me. Sure. First I told her that I have a message from one of her clients. I told her her name. She lit up, “Good.” First I said that she has no idea how I know her and reminded her not to say anything to her. I told her about the fans, she’s not real reliable (she smiled) she knows she cancelled with her and needs to make another appointment and that her best friend did die. I said how we shared that because mine did, too. She just listened. Then I said about her son being a senior and looking forward to going to a big school with the football, basketball teams and such. I said how it is a lot of fun like last night when we went to the college basketball team game.
Then I told her how I hate being the way I am. No one has to worry or think about what I do like I do. I’m so tired of it. We only found out last minute again. At first I didn’t want to do anything and wanted to tell myself I’ll be OK and I don’t have the problem. I hate having to think about it, plan, take extra clothes, drink or not drink and plan when I go to the bathroom. I had to look at the clock and go when there was 2 minutes left because I didn’t want to go at half time and deal with the lines. And it was student appreciation night and it was very crowded.
Then I told her how we had to walk to our car to the garage. There were so many people. And we even saw one person who fell. We couldn’t see much because we were walking past but there was blood splattered all over the ground. But you get to a certain point and you have to wait amongst all these people to go up the stairs. Wait a while. And then get out of the garage and such. I did have a problem. But I was able to hide it from my husband. We had to stop at the pet store to get medicine for my son’s fish’s ick and there was a bag on the floor I got out and sat on. I don’t know if I had to go or just with all the people and taking so long. She said it was probably a combination. I hardly talked on the way home and went in real fast.
That’s when my phone rang. It was my youngest and I said I better get it. I did. Of course, I didn’t let her hear. I asked him where he’s at, when he’s moving and told him his brother is moving back in. I said I was in the middle of something we’ll talk later. We hung up and I told her it’s been about 1 ½ weeks since I’ve talked to him. Nothing else.
So I went on how much I hate this problem and how tired I am about it. She just listened and nodded and smiled. I told her about all the things I’m doing this coming weekend. Movie tonight, son moving in, event with my friends, holiday two times (I never know when I can leave or not) and such. Even after I went on and rambled about it – same thing. She listened and smiled. I guess what more can she say. I’m sure she’s just as tired of it as I am. Well, nearly as tired of it. I have to live with it every day and she doesn’t. I remember she once recently me I can't complain about it. That was when she was trying to get me to go to a doctor when insurance was questioning it. I know but I'm really scared.
Finally she said that’s how it is now and that’s how I have to deal with it. She used this analogy. I wear glasses. I can choose not to wear them. How would that be? I said I’d feel like I was in a fog. She said and probably wouldn’t be able to drive. Right. People who need glasses can choose to wear them, wear contacts or get Lasik (her son did but not for her). If I would choose to not deal with my problem (like I say I want to sometimes) and plan and prepare if something happened that would not be good and I’d be unprepared.
She said how she hates reading glasses – absolutely hates them. She uses them because she wears contacts. I told her I used to wear contacts for a long time and they bothered my eyes so much I stopped. I told her I have transitions glasses where there’s 3 views. When I lay down to watch TV I have to pull them down to see. She didn’t know that about the type of glasses I have and thanked me for sharing. I think she was trying to make a point that you have to work things out to adjust when things aren’t perfect. So we ended on the glasses note and told me to have a nice weekend. I did to her, too.
I told her that my daughter called Monday night wanting to warn me that my grandson had a sore throat and his tummy hurt. He sometimes throws up with strep. She gave him my granddaughter’s Zofran because she said her and her boyfriend aren’t good about cleaning up throw up. I told her she’s 100% better then I am. I turn away, I run. My therapist said no one likes to look. Everyone looks away when they clean it up (she showed me with her hand and looking away). But my daughter and her boyfriend aren’t afraid like I am and are more normal about it. That’s what she knows I want to be like. Yes. So I told her what I wanted to do. I have an extra bag to split it in two and I had some chuncked up pieces (it was granola bars but I didn’t say). I already had a plan. We’ll go to the bathroom and do this by first spilling some on the ground for me to clean up and then down the toilet. And then we’ll go outside and throw it on to the ground.
She said how well prepared I was. She wanted to know what we had to do to talk about it first. I said that I have to think that it’s real and not just food. It would me more authentic that way. She wants me to stay with it and look at it. Also to pay attention to the sound. I can’t remember what else we said but soon we were ready to go. I mentioned to grab my coat because we are going to be going outside. She jumped up and got her green coat with blue inside and maybe a hood, out of the closet in the hallway. I followed behind her. We were walking out and I commented that the massage therapist must wonder where we go. She asked me if I ever share with her the things we work on. Oh, no.
She said we’ll go to the bathroom down the hall because more people are around the one downstairs. Not many people use the one upstairs. So that’s what we did. She put her coat on the sink counter. I did, too on the opposite side. I got everything out of the bag (had told her I had double bagged it because of the smell) and said it’s even worse because it has that freezer smell, too. First I asked her to hold the extra bag so I could pour half in. She did. Then she gave me it back to put the crunchy stuff in. I told her I feel like we are cooking something. I put the crunchy stuff in both bags. Then I poured water inside the first one. First I asked her if it’s too much water. She said no. I commented I should look at it. Yes. I did but not very long saying how gross it was.
Now … where to do this. We looked around on the floor. She said to do it inside the bigger stall in case someone comes in. So in I went and she stood just outside looking. I squatted down and leaned against the wall. First I looked at it. Then I had to pour it out (not all of it) on the floor. I hesitated but I did. It was gross. It looked very real. Even the liquid spread across the floor some. She told me to look at it. I told her I could only look at it a couple seconds at a time. She asked me where I was at. 10. Then later when I could look longer I said an 8. She told me to look and soon I’ll get tired of looking at it. She said if she locked the door and forced me to stay in there 7 hours I’d be cured. I looked at her doubtfully and she knew she wouldn’t do that. I told her what I would do is put something over it like towels to cover for 7 hours until someone got home to clean it up.
I told her how good she was looking at it. She stared a long time and I’m guessing hoping I’d do the same. I know because it was hard for me to look for a long period of time so I looked at her just staring and staring. Guess it didn’t bother her like me. She told me to look at the pattern it made. I said it looked like a hill or a mushroom. I asked her if she can smell it. No – she’s still a little stuffed up. Can I? Yes. I kept wanting to clean it up. She had me look a little longer. Then I could.
So I got up and got some paper towels. I asked to put it on top first? Yes. I told her I was going to throw some in the toilet in case there wasn’t enough left in the bag. She nodded like that was fine. She moved the trash can over to me. I scooped up a couple handfuls and threw them in the toilet. She said that was very good. She was telling me the whole time to pretend like I was with my grandson. I’m the Nana. Nana’s can do everything and are strong. And to help my grandson because he’ll probably be upset. I told her he’d be 30 feet away from me.
I put the yucky paper towels, after dumping 2 times in the toilet, in the trash can. Then I got up to get more paper towels and cleaned up the rest. I told her I hope no one comes in. She said it would be very interesting to explain if someone did. She said I did a very good job. I threw everything away and washed my hands. When I did I got a little soap on her coat. I tried to wipe it off. I’m not sure if she saw that because when I told her she took her coat and got a paper towel (with water on it) to try more. I told her, “It’s just soap.”
Now it was time to put the rest in the toilet. It already looked gross from what I dumped in there. I told her it looks like diarrhea and asked her if it looks real. Yes. Like on the floor she said it looked very real. I almost slipped in that spot. It was hard to dump it in. She wanted me to look as I was dumping and I just couldn’t. I dumped and I did hear her say, “A little more.” Then I looked at it. She had me do this for a minute and then I could flush it. It looked gross. Whew! Now to go outside.
I took the other bag (this one a Ziploc) and filled it was water. I had already put the crunchy stuff in it. I zip locked it closed and took a paper towel to wipe off the top. I was going to throw my plastic bags away but asked her if I needed them. At first she said no but then said to keep them incase we run into someone on our way out and I want to hide it. So I stuffed them in my coat pocket and we left.
We got into the hallway. I looked – no one – good. Then we went down the hall to the stairs, down the stairs, the little lobby area, down a few more stairs and out the back door. She suggested to go out back. Yes, and to the side, I told her. So that’s what we did. On the way I said how it’s nice with the sun shining but it’s so cold. She said yes, it’s deceiving. I said in the car it’s warm. I told her how cold it was walking to the car and back at the basketball game we went to last night. She also asked me about this weekend and the holiday. Both were brief because it didn’t take long to get outside.
We looked over to the side of the building. I asked if we should do it in the snow or on the muddy/grassy area. I said you can see it better in the snow but what if someone sees it and she agreed that wouldn’t be good. But she left it up to me. We found this nice little area in the muddy/grassy part. I started to feel like I needed to go to the bathroom. I think I moved around a little, trying not to, but I don’t think she noticed. Also with having my coat on it hides things. I knew she wanted me to look and feel it. I asked her, she said yes and I did for a couple seconds. Then it got worse, I sort of dipped down once or twice and said, “I feel like I need to go to the bathroom,” I told her and then I think I crossed my legs.
Without any hesitation she told me to put down the bag and go inside and use the downstairs one. Nothing on my part or her part about trying to wait. Or to do this and then go. The more I think about it now it’s best because I’d really want to hurry it through and I might not have been able to concentrate fully on it. At first she was going to come inside with me but then told me she’ll just wait outside for me. So I put the bag down and walked across that back parking lot and went inside, down the stairs, down the hall into that bathroom. I couldn’t hold it all the way and started going. But it wasn’t too bad – but enough to see if you looked. And definitely feel. So I went, washed my hands and went back outside.
She had moved closer to the stairs area, still outside, and was watching for me. She looked relieved when she saw me. I’m wondering if she was half expecting, from experiences, that I may have had an accident. Then she’d have to come in and ask and then get me clothes. But I was able to cover it up, having my coat on and pulling my shirt down. I didn’t think she’d be looking at my crouch anyway and she didn’t. We walked back over to where the bag was on the ground. She commented about a bird there eyeing it. I told her he probably wants to eat it. Yes. I picked it up and knew I had to throw it.
I was hesitating, of course. I tried to put my leg up kind of crossed to hide my wet spot on my pants. I’m sure she didn’t notice but I knew I was doing it because I was very self conscience about it. I looked at the contents of the bag and said, “I guess I need to do this all at once – fast.” “Yes.” It was hard to let go. She said to pretend we are at the zoo and it’s my grandson throwing up. I can be the strong Nana and do this. Earlier she asked (I think in the bathroom) to pretend it’s me or him. No, not me – him! She smiled. Also she told me again to pay attention to the sound. So … I told her to count 1,2,3 go and she did. I first backed away a little saying I didn’t want to get it on myself. I let loose of it and let it drip the rest of the way out of the bag. We looked at it just a minute or two and then went back inside. I threw that bag and my other 2 bags I put in my coat pocket into the trash can before we went inside the building.
We walked up the stairs and back into her office. I have no idea what we talked about because I was trying to deal with my wet pants and what to do about it. I didn’t want to tell her but I was upset about it and could tell I was going into that mode and couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Also it was wet and uncomfortable and I needed to go into the massage therapist next, lay on the table and I’m sure she’d notice.
Oh, I do remember one thing. Walking back in she told me when she was a little girl she didn’t want to have kids because she didn’t want to clean up their throw up. I was surprised she thought that. “You?” I asked thinking to myself how many times she throws up. She said it was just kid thinking. I then told her (walking up the stairs) that when we brought my first born home and I looked at this tiny spot in her crib I wasn’t sure. But I knew I had to solo it and I did. She said, yes you do. Mothers have picked up cars from their kids when they need to.
She hung up her coat, I waited behind her and we went back into her office. We sat down. She asked me how that was and how I was feeling. It was hard. She knew it. But what she didn’t know is I was dealing with the little accident I had and I couldn’t get through to anything else. She asked me what words can I use to describe it. I told her I didn’t know. I know … I was acting weird again like I get. She looked at me and took a deep breath and told me to blow it out hoping I’d do the same thing. She still thought I was upset about the exposures we just did. I couldn’t talk. I was really tense (she noted that) and uncomfortable. Finally she gave me that look that she knew something was going on when it went on longer and I wasn’t able to express myself and talk.
I knew I had to say something so I finally told her, “It’s something else.” “Something else that happened?” she asked. Yes. I think she tried to think, maybe another word or two were exchanged but then I think she caught on. I was really having trouble saying it so she asked me, “Did you have trouble making it to the bathroom?” I nodded I did and said, “It’s not a whole lot but enough.” She asked me if I changed. I guess she thought I had clothes with me but I didn’t. “No.” So she asked me if I wanted my clothes. I nodded I did. She went to her drawer and got me them and alluded to go to the bathroom to change. I was going to but I thought not and said, “Do me a favor. Just turn around. I don’t want to go back out there again.” She did. I didn’t say but I’m sure she knew I didn’t want the massage therapist to see me again. She saw us leave and come back.
She turned around and fiddled with her trinkets in the little cabinet while I changed and then I told her she can turn back. She did. She pretty much went directly back to how I was feeling about the exposures we did, kind of ignoring what happened. I wanted to ignore it too but I knew I couldn’t. It was getting in the way of talking about other things like those exposures we just did. She had given me a paper with lots of feelings on it to tell her how I was feeling. I did and she said that was a lot. She said how this was a hard one. Yes. I’m not sure if this was before I told her and changed or after. Maybe before.
So I couldn’t work on those feelings until I worked on what had just happened. I told her and we talked about it some. I told her that I don’t know what happened. She didn’t say much. She asked me how I would like to feel about it. That it’s OK. She asked me where I feel it in my body. My arms. She asked what do they want to do. Go up and down because I’m mad for it happening. She asked me what I wanted to say being so mad. I told her, “I hate you.” (meaning me) She didn’t like that. She wanted me to change it to not liking the problem – not, not liking myself.
She told me that I’m the only one who saw anything. She didn’t and no one else did unless I saw anyone when I went back in to go. No I didn’t. I told her I was glad I changed clothes. Yes and she was also glad I told her so I didn’t have to constantly deal with it and then be uncomfortable also going into the massage therapist – I need to enjoy that. So soon I felt better about it to move on. We did. I didn’t say but it was like unpeeling that layer (the accident) before I could move on to the exposures themselves.
We talked more about the exposures themselves. Yes it was very hard. She said again that I have to be the strong Nana. She stressed it getting easier and imagining myself alone with my grandson having to do it. Again, I said I’d have him 10 feet away. That’s not good. I don’t like being like that. You have to comfort a child when that happens and I run. We had also talked about my most fear about it is me throwing up and also someone else. She was understanding it. We talked a little about the smell. This was just food and I didn’t want to be turned off if my husband makes something similar to it. Real throw up would smell really bad.
When we were done I asked her if we could talk about other things now. I had said in the beginning that I wanted to do this first and then I have some other things to talk about, when she asked me. Sure. First I told her that I have a message from one of her clients. I told her her name. She lit up, “Good.” First I said that she has no idea how I know her and reminded her not to say anything to her. I told her about the fans, she’s not real reliable (she smiled) she knows she cancelled with her and needs to make another appointment and that her best friend did die. I said how we shared that because mine did, too. She just listened. Then I said about her son being a senior and looking forward to going to a big school with the football, basketball teams and such. I said how it is a lot of fun like last night when we went to the college basketball team game.
Then I told her how I hate being the way I am. No one has to worry or think about what I do like I do. I’m so tired of it. We only found out last minute again. At first I didn’t want to do anything and wanted to tell myself I’ll be OK and I don’t have the problem. I hate having to think about it, plan, take extra clothes, drink or not drink and plan when I go to the bathroom. I had to look at the clock and go when there was 2 minutes left because I didn’t want to go at half time and deal with the lines. And it was student appreciation night and it was very crowded.
Then I told her how we had to walk to our car to the garage. There were so many people. And we even saw one person who fell. We couldn’t see much because we were walking past but there was blood splattered all over the ground. But you get to a certain point and you have to wait amongst all these people to go up the stairs. Wait a while. And then get out of the garage and such. I did have a problem. But I was able to hide it from my husband. We had to stop at the pet store to get medicine for my son’s fish’s ick and there was a bag on the floor I got out and sat on. I don’t know if I had to go or just with all the people and taking so long. She said it was probably a combination. I hardly talked on the way home and went in real fast.
That’s when my phone rang. It was my youngest and I said I better get it. I did. Of course, I didn’t let her hear. I asked him where he’s at, when he’s moving and told him his brother is moving back in. I said I was in the middle of something we’ll talk later. We hung up and I told her it’s been about 1 ½ weeks since I’ve talked to him. Nothing else.
So I went on how much I hate this problem and how tired I am about it. She just listened and nodded and smiled. I told her about all the things I’m doing this coming weekend. Movie tonight, son moving in, event with my friends, holiday two times (I never know when I can leave or not) and such. Even after I went on and rambled about it – same thing. She listened and smiled. I guess what more can she say. I’m sure she’s just as tired of it as I am. Well, nearly as tired of it. I have to live with it every day and she doesn’t. I remember she once recently me I can't complain about it. That was when she was trying to get me to go to a doctor when insurance was questioning it. I know but I'm really scared.
Finally she said that’s how it is now and that’s how I have to deal with it. She used this analogy. I wear glasses. I can choose not to wear them. How would that be? I said I’d feel like I was in a fog. She said and probably wouldn’t be able to drive. Right. People who need glasses can choose to wear them, wear contacts or get Lasik (her son did but not for her). If I would choose to not deal with my problem (like I say I want to sometimes) and plan and prepare if something happened that would not be good and I’d be unprepared.
She said how she hates reading glasses – absolutely hates them. She uses them because she wears contacts. I told her I used to wear contacts for a long time and they bothered my eyes so much I stopped. I told her I have transitions glasses where there’s 3 views. When I lay down to watch TV I have to pull them down to see. She didn’t know that about the type of glasses I have and thanked me for sharing. I think she was trying to make a point that you have to work things out to adjust when things aren’t perfect. So we ended on the glasses note and told me to have a nice weekend. I did to her, too.
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