chronic pain, Lifestyle, Mental health, recovery

Ugly Truth 63: Medical Trauma & 15 Tips to Help You Implement Post Traumatic Growth

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
― Rumi

Dear Readers,

Thank you for your patience during this difficult time.

I have had great difficulty writing for others, much less myself. Those of you who know me know that I have been sustaining a medical journey, but I have yet to release the details. It has been greatly overwhelming and difficult to articulate. My studies have stalled, and I am walking on empty. Optimism can be so challenging when faced with a physical illness that brings with it significant limitations, but so few ever talk about it. It is important that I document these happenings for the record.

The Deskraven Blog was inspired by telling the unflinching truth, so if you have something to say please email me at

Today I want to touch on medical trauma, the way it impacts mental health, and what we can do about it. As previously stated in Ugly Truth 62: Proper Diagnosis is a Long Hard Road:

“Medical trauma can meet acute clinical criteria for PTSD. If you’ve read this blog for any period of time, you know this has been a hurdle of mine. The truth is trauma and grief are not linear. We cannot always anticipate recovery or relapse, which is why strategic coping skills are so important to develop if you have any intention of coping well. No amount of meditation or eastern scrap of religion could have prepared me for this, but it does help.”

In March of this year my pain management physician referred me to an OB/GYN to assess for endometriosis. Three weeks later I met with a kind and caring family and primary care nurse practitioner named Victoria Cameron, APRN, FNPC-C. During this appointment I had to strip down and sit in a cold sterile room for what felt like forever. I met with a Medical Assistant who was also less than warm. She checked my vitals and assessed my request for birth control in a feeble attempt to regulate my cycle. When I met Ms. Cameron, I brought her up to speed on my medical history and she performed a women’s wellness exam. After our discussion, she referred me to a nearby hospital for an abdominal CT (with and without contrast) to look for signs of scar tissue and any other culprit related to the incessant pelvic pain I experience. Upon my release, I called the nearby hospital to schedule my next appointment for the following Monday. I was informed it would be a four-hour appointment and to be sure I was in a state of fasting upon my arrival.

On April 19th I went to HCA Houston Healthcare Northwest at 9am. After routine Covid screenings and administrative nonsense, I was admitted to the Imaging Department. Thankfully though, this one had a television where I consumed the Derek Chauvin trial. The live footage had me just about near tears before my name was called, as well as that of another woman. The three of us took to the hospital halls where the technician explained to us the procedure we were undergoing. We entered a third room deep in the heart of the hospital. He explained I had to drink 32 ounces of Gatorade spiked with iodine. He elaborated this would light up my organ systems, but I had to wait two hours for the magic to happen. Afterwards, they would set an IV so they could flush my system with saline and more iodine. There I sat pondering the side effects with another young man sitting across from me, and an older gentleman in the corner. I smiled to myself while observing the mediocre artwork medical providers seem to hang unanimously in an attempt to soothe your nerves. With bulging bladders, we all had a good laugh about whether or not we were permitted to use the restroom.

My name was called again and I was escorted to the CT machine where I met a fine young man from Louisiana who asked me to lay down on the imaging bed. He shared details with me about his life while he attempted to set my IV, but failed twice. He moved to the other side and made a third attempt in my right arm. At the time the birth control I had discontinued made me anemic. I heard a woman’s voice enter the room and say, “Her body is too cold.” She requested heated blankets and wrapped my limbs with a soft tone in her voice. Finally, she returned to my left side and was able to set the IV properly.

I was informed via loud speaker that I would be moved in and out of the machine twice, once with the saline flush and once with the iodine. I was asked to take a deep breath in and hold it. He explained the iodine would cause a warm sensation in my sacred center that mimics the feeling of peeing on yourself. He assured me I had not.

Afterwards he released me into the hallways where I promptly proceeded to experience a profound state of confusion. I ended up walking directly into the employee section of the emergency department. When I walked in, they were all surprised to see me – a young woman in civilian clothes who had no business being there. I apologized and explained I was lost. They advised that typically I wouldn’t be allowed to exit the hospital this way, but they would make an exception.

Finally, I made my way outside and realized I was on the opposite side of the building, as far as humanly possible from my vehicle. I took a deep sigh and began walking, overwhelm and weakness in full force. I finally reached my car where I took five minutes to collect myself before driving, or so I thought. On my way home I experienced a rush of tears and anxiety, longing for nothing more than my loving Wife and my own bed. I experienced side effects from the iodine in the coming days, and soon resented the fact that I have always been medically sensitive.

One month later Ms. Cameron called me with my CT results. She explained I have kidney stones and ovarian cysts, an additional symptom of endometriosis. The imaging also showed degeneration of my spine in conjunction with the L5/S1 disc herniation and spinal stenosis (a narrowing of the spine). She recommended I see an endometriosis specialist for next steps and offered an alternate form of birth control. Fed up with synthetic hormones, I politely declined. I spoke with my Wife about the plan moving forward, and explained I needed a break from medical appointments for a while. She, in her unfailing love and support, agreed.

On May 20th I saw my pain management physician again where he recommended increasing my Cymbalta. I lasted three weeks before a full-blown panic attack, insomnia, loss of balance, shaky limbs, weight loss, skin reactions, and symptoms of bipolar mania surfaced. I started weening off very slowly as Cymbalta is notorious for a hardcore withdrawal syndrome. I am down to my last two pills, and I am keeping my fingers crossed that warm cranial sensations, agitation, severe nausea, and flashes in my field of vision do not return once I run out completely.

One June 17th I followed up with my pain management doctor with the news where he discontinued my Cymbalta and increased my Gabapentin since my body seems to tolerate it well. He explained the next step is a Lumbar/Hypogastric Plexus Nerve Block. He elaborated I would be put under anesthesia and I agreed, explaining that I have done everything I can to be medically compliant and this is no different.

During the procedure, an anesthetic is injected directly into the nerve root near the lower spine. The medication spiders into the pelvic region and blocks the sympathetic nerve system to help relieve pain associated with the colon, bladder, lower intestines, uterus, and ovaries. He believes this will be beneficial to me because those are the organ systems often impacted by endometriosis. He stated he has seen success stories that result in such significant improvement that some of his patients never return.

One of my biggest challenges has been nerve compression which makes it difficult for me sit, stand, drive or walk. These activities require all of my energy and even some I don’t have, resulting in extreme chronic pain and fatigue. At the height of it, I have experienced episodes of paralysis. I spend all of my down time in bed even when my self-care routine is on point. Even though my Wife’s love is unrelenting, I know she craves the active partner I once was.

The concept is that numbing my body from the waist down will restore my ability to operate from a functionality stand point until my exploratory surgery can be scheduled. If they locate scar tissue as a result of internal bleeding, a third surgery will be scheduled. My hope is that at the very least a nerve block will allow me to tolerate exercise again so I can rebuild those muscle groups. Understandably, my quality of life is suffering greatly, and the recovery time for each of these procedures is getting longer and more intense. I will go under on July 7th at 11am, one day after my son’s tenth birthday.

Each time I endure one of these invasive appointments it triggers my PTSD and takes me back to that deep dark place of being a caregiver at the age of 22. I witnessed someone I love experience everything from biopsies to transplants, even suicidal depression, in the face of a traumatic health scare that was only days away from fatal. This went on for two whole years.

Likewise, I often struggle with the notion that I am failing as a mother. The limitations associated with chronic pain and mental illness requires a delicate balancing act, one that obligates you to carve out time for self-care. This can lead to falsely rooted guilt, especially on days when I can’t get out of bed. The emotional side of me knows I am missing out on important milestones and quality time. The logical side of me knows I am instilling compassion in my son. I have chosen to raise him with raw and transparent communication, but still my paranoia roars and I ask myself, “At what cost?” Add to that the impact of the Covid generation and it’s all too easy to stir the worry pool. I am blessed that I have his father and my devoted Wife to pick up the slack. I shudder to think what I would do without them. However, if you do find yourself less fortunate, Delta Discovery Center offers 15 Trauma Therapy Techniques to Implement to Help You Heal From Trauma:

1. Get Closure

2. Recognize That There is Nothing Wrong With You

3. Link Positive and Negative Material

4. Reclaim Control

5. Get Counseling

6. Don’t Isolate

7. Take Care of Your Health

8. Try to Find Some Deeper Meaning in What Happened to You

9. Learn the True Meaning of Acceptance and Letting Go

10. Become Aware of Emotional Triggers and Learn to Cope with Them Creatively

11. Learn the True Meaning of Acceptance and Letting Go

12. Connect with Nature

13. Clean Up Your Diet

14. Limit Your Media Exposure

15. Know That Your Feelings Are Valid

I have implemented all of these into my life, but there will always be hard days. Above all, number eight has resonated with me the most: Try to Find Some Deeper Meaning in What Happened to You.

Since this journey began, I have moved through the victim mindset into a more spiritual realm. I am made to feel content by the fact that I have found sanctuary within myself and while there will be missteps, I can use my story to help others. Making time for meditation and spiritual development has offered me a great deal of healing in tandem with my medical team, cannabis, and yoga. I never would have imagined that my health would take a nose dive at the age of twenty-eight, but here we are, and I know I’m not the only one.

Throughout my life I have sustained every form of trauma you can imagine. I was born six weeks premature with a heart murmur. I suffered underdeveloped lungs and health issues through out a lot of my childhood. I have experienced child abuse, partner abuse, sexual abuse, abandonment, self-injury, suicide, addiction, high risk pregnancy, clinical mental illness of which two in-patient hospitalizations resulted, eating disorders and physical ailments. With that comes equal parts post traumatic stress and post traumatic growth. The most important decision you will ever make will be the path you choose — because the obstacle is the path.

My perspective has shifted from irritable disenchantment with human life to the humbling compassionate understanding that our bodies are only vehicles for an ethereal and eternal soul. This allows me to compartmentalize my suffering and listen to my body.

I have fallen madly in love with nature and solitude, which invites a certain healing I can’t quite articulate. There is something enlightening about how near death experiences usher us into a flow state of surrender. Suddenly eyes and heart wide open; Still, we might easily miss it if we don’t pay attention. This sense of awakening or awareness is reinforced by the understanding that suffering is universal, and deeply designed to help us learn. Indeed, science demonstrates that spiritual practice has the power to physically change the structure of our neurological systems and DNA. Therefore, I spill all the unconditional love I can muster into all of my interactions with others. Every painful experience is an opportunity to advocate your needs, to learn receivership with grace, to love yourself and others more. I encourage you to choose love over fear.

>>>Discussion: What has your trauma taught you?

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!