I’ve probably written something similar to this before…but I’m thinking about it again. We all go through our lives differently, influenced by internal and external factors. The treatments and solutions for one are not the solutions for another. I can’t tell someone who doesn’t like school that doing well and finding my academic niche was the key to success for me.
But what about when they ask? How much information do I provide? How do I articulate just how much childhood surgeries affected me and how I dealt with childhood PTSD post-surgery without revealing too much about my inner psyche (because really, how much detail do they want?).
So I stick to the basics: that reconstructive surgery wouldn’t have worked in my individual situation due to the slight movement I have. I don’t share that I sat in on a conference presentation by the pioneering surgeon at 11 (yes, I was precocious – I also have notes about genetics from that conference) and was scared. I was worried the professionals were telling me I wasn’t good enough as is. That I needed to be fixed.
Luckily I had family and professionals to guide me through that angst, but how do I even describe that beyond the rumination a of a once overly-sensitive, angsty pre-teen?
It wasn’t right for me.
This seems to be the only way I can condense years of thinking about it, but it doesn’t seem sufficient. I want to emphasize that I couldn’t have handled it emotionally but without being like “yeah, I had LOTS of issues!”
I think new surgical methods are awesome and definitely less scary-looking in process (just wish everyone could get insurance to cover them!) and I love that people are getting good results with them and are happy. Would that have changed my decision process? Who knows.
All I know is that I wasn’t ready for surgery and am thankful I had the support I did. But that I am so happy for people who had surgery and are happy. And sad for those who didn’t have it and are unhappy, or had it and are unhappy.
How about: it’s complicated!
Natalie Abbott 