A little bit of PTSD can go a long way

Illustration from Skincancer.net

I'm trying not to duplicate what I write in the blog and what I write for the skin cancer and blood cancer platforms of Health Union. So, I probably didn't share on the blog how I had cryosurgery that made me cry.  If you go to the link you can read all about it. Or not.

I got the biggest blisters on my hands and on the top of my nose. Good thing it wasn't date night. I knew I shouldn't have done it but I popped a few of them. They were ballooning and just asking for it. I left one alone. Guess what? The one that I left alone healed faster. I also wrote one about the problem of skin picking.

The other night I had a nightmare that conjoined some of my trauma and anxiety. Also I realized that something from the news had seeped in.

I dreamt that I was in a bed in a hospital room where relatives were sitting. My doctor said he was going to stick a needle in me and do a major procedure. I would go under. If I came out on the other side, I would be healed. But I might not make it through the night. He said someone should stay with me all night. But then my bed was in the hall and I didn't know where people would sit. Analysis: Stem cell transplant, coma, touch-and-go night when they really weren't sure I would make it. And the thing about the bed in the hall: those melodramatic ads against Question 1, the nurse-patient limits, which featured patients perishing in the hall because nurses had been pulled off to meet requirements in other places. (It failed.)

In another part of the night, I dreamt I forgot my tennis racquet and had to play with something that had a little handle and a brush at the end. I tried to do it but then realized I couldn't possibly hold onto it. The scene cut to a match. My opponent was bouncing around. She looked pretty good. I said I realized I couldn't play with the racquet. Then I realized mine was in the car. She said to go ahead and get it. I said but then I would be late to the match and she said it was OK, we could start and one-all, and she wasn't good for more than one set anyway.

I ran out to get my racquet but then realized my keys were locked in a room. Then I couldn't remember exactly where the room was. Oy.

I was still in transit when I woke up. I guess the good news was that my opponent was being nice about it.

I also wrote a piece about PTSD but it hasn't been published yet. When I did a little research, I found a story that stated many cancer survivors suffer from PTSD.

The National Cancer Institute calls it Post Traumatic Stress, or PTS. Apparently it is not as severe but it can rear its head at any time. Such as in nightmares that go back to the time of crisis.

After that nightmare I woke up feeling blue. I don't know why the saying is "feeling blue." Blue is one of my favorite colors. It should be "feeling gray."

In any case there was nothing much to do about it except to go on with my day.

What you don't want to hear in the dentist's chair

"CRAP," the dental hygienist said as she stuck that metal pokey thing in the back of my mouth yesterday.

The realization of all my dental nightmares flashed before my eyes.

"What?" I asked in a panicked tone.

She laughed and said she was sorry. She was just upset that she had forgotten to change the TV off the soap opera. She hates soap operas.

After rinsing, I told her that she had worried me along the lines of how a patient feels when, not fully asleep during anesthesia, they hear a doctor say "oops."

I looked up at the TV screen on time to hear a woman cry, "I'm never going to see my baby again!"

"OH NO!" I said.

"What?" asked the hygienist.

I told her it was just the TV.

The dentist's office is my "Cheers," where everyone knows my name. I have as much fun there as is possible. While we were waiting for Dr. Debian to come in and check my mouth, Leah gave me some pointers on the Words With Friends game that I had been playing while I waited. I had thought of a good word but then it would open up a triple letter combination.

Dr. Debian was pleased to hear that I am keeping my mouth guard in. Some of my teeth are already worn down some from grinding. I would have gotten the mouth guard sooner if I had known.

But the good news is that I had no cavities and was able to leave with my remaining 20 teeth intact.

A loose tooth, a big wave, and the meaning of it all

Another night, another nightmare back in the dentist's chair.

Did I say I lost 12 teeth? Yes, of course I did, and my subconscious keeps chewing on it. (Sorry not sorry about the pun.)

I dreamt the dentist was poking a pointy instrument inside of my lower lip, moving it around like he was looking for something. I didn't know what it was. Finally he fished out a big molar and held it up on a skewer for me to see.

It was my only remaining tooth on my upper left. I was extremely upset because I can barely chew on the right. He said not to worry and popped it back in place. I asked was he sure it would stay there. He said it would, and if it popped out again he could put it back. I was dubious. But I went on my way.

The way led to one of those big wave dreams. Maybe you have had them. I know some other people who have. I guess it is common because when I looked it up, I typed "what does a big wave" and it filled in "mean in a dream."

According to the author of a  blog about dreams, "If we look at water in our dreams as a symbol of our emotions and feelings, part of our inner world, then tidal waves can be like our emotions welling up and getting a little out of control." 

The writer, Amy Campion, continued, "Tidal wave dreams and tsunami dreams invite us to dive into our subconscious, then perhaps we can learn to swim or surf and enjoy the experience of being at one with our-self, of exploring our emotions.  If we are lucky, we may even learn to breathe under water.

In last night's dream, I was standing with my family against a sea wall when a big wave started rolling in. It was me, my mother, Katie, and two others. (I don't know who.) As the wave got closer, we all took a big breath and dove in. I did it like I used to do but would never do now because I'm not steady enough. I faced the wave and plunged under. I told Katie to do the same.

The water calmed and I popped up. Then my mother. Then the others. I looked anxiously for Katie, and then her head appeared out of the water.

Another wave was coming and I said to my mother, come on, let's move to higher ground.

So we all did. I think that was a pretty good ending.