I woke realizing that what I had ended up with in my first OBGYN, was a medical "proof of virginity." The doctor sent me home with a large maxi pad for the bleeding. She kept saying, "I'm so sorry" after I said "OUCH!" because she didn't stop and continued to open up the speculum. She started wiping blood off of the floor. And then she came in with a thick white maxi pad that had a blue backing. Not only had I bled all over the floor to where she knelt down when I was still in the stirrups, to wipe it up, she sent me home with a huge pad because I was still bleeding.
I think now, that I know why the first Dr. refused to do the exam--because he knew if you had a hymen, opening up a speculum was going to break that. So he wouldn't do it.
Who knows, that document of my virginity at age 23, combined with the fact that I was smart, talented, and at least at that time, sort of beautiful (I didn't think so then but looking back I guess I was), was too much for some. They wanted to trash me out of jealousy and probably for legal reasons.
So yeah, 1997.
My Ex saw what I looked like when I was younger, from photos. He said, "How is this possible??!" because he couldn't believe how pretty I was.
How is it possible, I think, to go from having nothing wrong with me, to years of harassment and torture just to ruin me to fit what some wanted.
I also thought, "I'll be some of these people who have been so hateful, have had some story circulated claiming I am a slut and that I was never a virgin and was just lying." Why would someone do this? maybe to discredit me in order to make others feel more comfortable in slandering me further.
I don't know why I didn't think of it until yesterday and today, but what I had, without trying to get one, was a medical confirmation and medical documentation that I was a virgin. It was an objective "proof of virginity".
This documentation could have been used against others who later defamed me. It can still be used as evidence but I guess since they knew about this, they went the extra step to torture me and try to make me sound like a criminal.
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13 comments:
You are faking! You werent a virgin at 23!
You can't fake blood.
Oh wait. I forgot. I brought in a little bottle of ketchup with me and squeezed it onto the floor when the Dr. broke the hymen by continuing to open and extract the the speculum when I asked her to stop.
Then, the Dr. apologized for making me squeeze ketchup all over the floor, quit what she was doing, bent all the way down to the ground to wipe it up, while saying "I'm so sorry" and then had shaky hands the rest of the exam and kept having to wipe away blood because there was hardly any way to even SEE, because, Yes, you must be psychic--I squeezed ketchup all over myself too.
So that must have been why she took forever and had to adjust and stop and start, and get a brighter light.
Because I was faking.
By the way, all my doctors and counseling notes include exactly what happened, from right after, and there is not one man on the face of the planet who will ever surface to say he was "there before the speculum" or, in reality, the rapist after the speculum. I was raped a few months before my 24th birthday. I was a virgin. And my notes after the rape, indicated it was a true rape, and in fact, whoever stole my diary that had Gustav Klimt on it, with the painting of "the kiss", I think that was maybe the diary that had the poem I wrote about this incident. One of my diaries that was stolen, one of the first things, had a poem where I tried to disguise what had happened, or used figurative language in poetry, to write and describe my rape and I likened it to something about a cherry. It was a little dark and symbolic and maybe wry, or sarcastic and sad, and it was somewhat short.
I had no other way to come to terms with what happened to me than to use metaphors.
Next time you're in a class, look around, because at least 3 in every class or more, in college, will be date rape victims.
Then they go on to work in the justice system and cover for eachother.
I should add to this...I was thinking, why DID she even continue?
I mean, if the first older Dr. knew that doing a pap would break the hymen, as a Dr. this other woman obviously knew what it was and where it was and yet she wanted to continue anyway.
And yeah, everyone bleeds a little in paps sometimes, but I never did like that first time, and it was a lot of blood and I felt something break or tear when she did what she did.
I just never thought before, about how she should have known anatomy as a Dr., so why did she keep doing it?
To make it easier for someone to get away with rape?
Here's the other thing. She was new to the area I lived in. My house was in a small neighborhood place that was kind of up-and-coming, being rehabilitated, and just across the bridge from the Pearl district. So I moved there and bought my house. Then this Dr. moved into town and put her practice there. It was just her and her husband I think. A small clinic. And there is more than one record that I went there, because I had Oregon Health Plan for the first time and used it to go to see her. So the State of Oregon had it in their files. Her name, the location, and the visit should all be there. It was one of the first appointments I made of a medical nature since I was a child, about age 11 or so. If I remember correctly, it was sort of different last name. And she had moved to Oregon, from, if I remember correctly, out of state. I also recall that when I left the offices, for that appointment, I was being watched--under some kind of surveillance by someone and I didn't know why. But I remember they had a smirk on their face when I left to go to my car and followed me.
I don't have some things with me right now, records or anything, but I remember from which direction I was driving that day and where the clinic was approximately. It was right off of a road, not set back into a park, and looked like a small clinic. Had windows facing the street and sidewalk. I drove down Willamette Blvd from the N. Portland side and see on a map that this then turns into Mock Landing Rd (somewhere below is a US naval base), or continue on Willamette. I think I found it but I would have to check a little bit more. After seeing her, my next doctor that I had, after I was raped, was a Kathleen or Catherine. It's who I was referred to.
Yeah. And my counselor I was assigned to was a "Carol". haha. Never thought a thing about irony back then. Not once. I guess I was oblivous to pretty much everything.
I told my family, "This makes that time I tried to apply to be an airline stewardess really strange, looking back."
I had gone to the Portland PDX airport and went to an interview to be a stewardess and filled out the app, and had some of the weirdest and worst treatment ever. It was so strange I talked about it later to my family and said, "For some reason, there were people there who did NOT want me to be an airline stewardess."
It's interesting, looking back.
At any rate, at this clinic, I sat in a chair with a cushion, with my back to the window and looked at magazines and the window for reception was to the left of the waiting room.
Oh yeah, and this house we almost bought for a beachhouse in Bandon, Oregon, 7 years ago, was pointed out to me. I remembered the day we drove out to look at it, even back then. I remember the weather then and it was cloudy and overcast and we were being followed then. Back then I never paid attention to things but this time I noticed what the street name was: Caryl Court.
How hilarious. We almost bought the gray and white 2-story on Caryl Court. And there was NOT a good vibe, I remember, that day. That was a day that I knew we were followed and not by good people.
"To Kill A Mockingbird" anyone?
Mama,
I can't believe that you were more beautiful then, esp with how beautiful you are now. You are an incredible looking woman. You need to keep posting pics of your smiling face.
Thanks
I have no reason or desire to post photos of myself.
The only reason I did before was as a response to torture and being medicated and drugged without my consent.
I am leaving those photos, just for evidence of what was done to me and what they tried to drag me down to.
My son and I are victims of very serious crimes and we were both tortured.
I never took any photos of myself before I was being degraded and drugged, medicated and tortured. Not even when I was being tortured with my son in E. Wenatchee.
I put out one photo, out of desperation, hoping someone would help us, and see we were just a mother and child who needed help.
There is no possible way for me to describe the evil I have witnessed.
Mama,
You are a victim and I feel horrible for you. If/when you ever come back to Washington I would love to take you out to dinner.
You should reconsider posting pictures of yourself. Putting a face to your blog helps people identify with your struggles. Not to mention you are an absolute fox.
Thanks
You are disrespectful. I will not post further comments from you.
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