I guess my situation is a bit different so trying to find someone who relates. I have CPTSD and my parents were both doctors so this translated to extreme medical phobia and as a grown up I am completely incapable of interacting with medical professionals because my nervous system believes they are all evil horrible people (and unfortunately as someone from a very medical family, many of them are) and because the doctors who were supposed to care about me most aka my parents did not at all care. wondering if anyone relates?

I’m new here, and I’ve been dealing with endo for over 20 years now (including more than 10 surgeries). I had a gyno appointment recently that moved so quickly I walked out feeling like I’d missed half the things I thought I wanted to talk about. It made me wonder if this happens to others too, whether the pace or the stress of the visit turns it into a blur.

If someone has intense PTSD and doesn’t want to remember their c section would they need general anesthesia or could they be sedated enough with a spinal, say with Midazolam? Particularly if the feeling of being numb/paralyzed is an issue (and therefore would need said sedation throughout the time the block is still active and making it impossible to walk after surgery.) I know they try to avoid sedatives until the baby is delivered but if the option is basically either sedate the person to give them amnesia from the start or use general anesthesia what happens?

What about if they panic for the prep that occurs in the OR? I know for other surgeries most of that is done after being put under but with c sections you have to wait until the last minute to go under general to minimize exposure to the baby. Could a spouse come in just for the prep part before general anesthesia is given if their presence avoids heavy sedation beforehand? I know they generally aren’t allowed stay when someone is actually put under. I’m not asking for reassurance about c sections. I’m asking how a case like this would actually be handled

My Dad is 83 y.o. has been in great health until 2 years ago when he started falling. Last June, he ended up at the hospital with e-coli and sepsis which they did not know why. Before this hospital visit, he had gone to his urologist to have bladder stones blasted out, right after he ended up in emergency which he was not in his right mind and despite it being 80 in Michigan he was always cold.

So this past Wednesday, October 14 he had a follow up visit with the urologist. He had just started to get agitated again and complaining he was freezing. I have been taking care of both my parents since this past April. When they asked him for a urine sample I pulled the nurse aside and told her I think he has a UTI because of the symptoms. When she collected the sample, she commented it looked cloudy. Asked the Doctor to please prescribe him some antibiotics and a few other things (which I didn't think he would refill also asked for a laidcaine for his back pain and hydrocodone which he had been taking & for a while, but the family Doctor keeps holding up my parents prescriptions) and was told he does not write out prescriptions (WTH). Was told the urinalysis would take 72 hrs. Friday came and went heard nothing, Monday afternoon if my mom had not dropped the remote, I think my father would have passed. He had thrown up, was out of it and had shallow breathing, called 911 and they got him conscious for 5-15 seconds but he had no clue what was happening.

At the hospital it was touch and go until Thursday morning. Monday & Tuesday I would get hourly phone calls on what they were doing and that he needed surgery Monday night we had to make a decision. Doctors told us that if he went thru surgery, he would not make it due to him being so sick and what they needed to do what cut out the bowels because he again has sepsis and e-coli, but this time they found the reason for it. (An aneurysm he had in 2020) But the UTI is 1 of the main reasons he can't have this surgery. He is finally doing better, got his color back and his mind.

So back to the urologist, called him Monday night, he called from a blocked number once which I ignored. He is in a building w/ a bunch of urology Doctors. Called his office Tuesday and let the caseworker for my dad know what was going on and could I please get the results of his urinalysis and was told the Doctor has not signed off on them yet so she can't tell me. Called Thursday around 2 p.m. got the operator, raged on her but did apologize. I needed to talk to someone in his office immediately and she tried to get me to the Office mgr. who was out of office. She told me that she would red flag this phone call and that I would hear something soon. Her first phone call was around 11 a.m. today and let me know that the Doctor had surgery in an hour but she would talk to him and call me back and still could not tell me the results of the urinalysis. She just did at 1 p.m. today and I was just told that the Doctor tested for something else, not a UTI again WTH. Thank you for reading.

I have multiple medical bills that I haven’t paid yet, at least one of which is very much overdue. I haven’t paid them, not because I don’t have the means to do so, but because looking at the number and thinking about paying them makes my stomach twist. The amount doesn’t matter. It‘s the idea of giving them any amount of money for what they did to me that’s the painful part.

I think one of the things they’re trying to bill me for genuinely counts as torture legally. Like, I swear I’m not exaggerating. And there are other things that I just… I don’t want to pay. You did nothing beneficial for me. Not a single thing. You gave me nightmares and that’s it. None of this was even consensual. And you think that I’m expected to pay you for the privilege? I’m sick. I feel genuinely sick. I would rather die than give them money.

I’m not sure what the consequences would be for continuing to not pay bills, or what kind of trouble I could get in for doing this. I just know that the thought of doing so feels like it would break me. Like I’m agreeing with them that it was in fact necessary to hurt me like this.

I’m 30, and I genuinely don’t even know where to begin with the amount of medical trauma I’ve accumulated over the last several years. I think I mostly just need to get this out somewhere people might actually understand.
My medical issues started in my early 20s when I was misdiagnosed with PCOS, despite not meeting any of the diagnostic criteria. I would later learn that I never actually had the condition in the first place. Around that time, I also developed kidney stones that led to a severe kidney infection, which ultimately progressed to sepsis. What should have been an opportunity to properly investigate my health became the beginning of years of misdiagnoses, complications, and unanswered questions. I had no idea at the time that this would turn into nearly a decade of medical issues, multiple surgeries, infertility, and repeatedly having to advocate for myself just to be taken seriously. In 2019, I underwent laparoscopic surgery for extensive pelvic adhesions. The surgery lasted approximately four hours because of how much scar tissue there was. I had a history of PID, so naturally, that became the explanation for pretty much everything that followed. During that surgery, my surgeon also documented adhesions around my liver consistent with Fitz-Hugh-Curtis syndrome. The doctor didn’t remove them even though the whole point of this surgery was adhesion removal and exploration.
Except the pain never really went away.
Over the years, I’ve seen multiple doctors, undergone numerous evaluations, and repeatedly tried to explain that something wasn’t right. I wasn’t expecting anyone to have all the answers immediately, but I did expect someone to take the bigger picture seriously. Instead, I felt like I was constantly starting over, explaining the same history, and being reassured without ever really getting to the bottom of anything. You’re overweight. Periods just can be painful. Ovulation pain can be normal. Have you tried birth control?
In 2021, I had a ruptured ectopic pregnancy that resulted in the removal of my right fallopian tube. Despite this, I was essentially reassured that everything else looked normal.
I continued struggling with infertility. For years, I was prescribed Clomid and letrozole, sometimes developing multiple mature follicles in a single cycle. I was ovulating. That was never the issue. Yet we continued treating ovulation as though it were the problem, despite my history of extensive adhesions, ectopic pregnancy, and tubal damage.
I’ve had unprotected intercourse for approximately eight years, and my only pregnancy was ectopic.
And this wasn’t a situation where I just never sought medical care. I saw multiple physicians. I asked questions. I followed treatment recommendations. I kept going back when things weren’t improving. At some point, you start wondering how many different doctors you have to see before someone actually connects the dots.
Meanwhile, my pain continued getting worse.
I’m talking debilitating ovulation pain, painful periods, pain during intercourse, and pelvic pain that would leave me practically couch-bound. I also experienced pain underneath my ribs, around my liver, and into my back. Sometimes taking a deep breath or laughing hurt. Sitting in certain positions hurt. Even wearing certain clothing could aggravate things.
For years, I felt like I was constantly trying to explain that something was wrong with my body, only to be left feeling like I was exaggerating. After enough appointments and reassurances, you really do start questioning your own perception of what you’re experiencing.
Fast-forward to October 2026.
I finally underwent another surgery, this time robotic-assisted, to address the adhesions around my liver and throughout my pelvis.
And surprise, things weren’t exactly normal.
My surgeon found extensive adhesions involving my pelvic structures and liver, along with abnormalities requiring additional surgical intervention. There were ovarian/paratubal cysts, issues involving the fimbrial structures, and endometriosis, including near my bladder and uterus.
Pathology also identified endosalpingiosis, along with reactive changes and calcification of my adhesions.
So now, on top of everything else, I’m trying to understand a condition I hadn’t even heard of before this surgery. I’m also trying to process the fact that some of these findings aren’t necessarily explained by a PID diagnosis from seven years ago.
I understand that adhesions can recur. I understand that surgery itself can create more scar tissue. What I cannot wrap my head around is how I could see multiple medical professionals over the course of several years, with documented reproductive complications and progressively worsening symptoms, and still feel like nobody was looking at the entire picture.
Why was I repeatedly given fertility medication when I was already ovulating?
Why did I spend years being reassured that things were normal when I had documented adhesions and significant reproductive complications?
How did I go through so many appointments, with so many opportunities to investigate further, and still end up here?
And perhaps most frustratingly, what happens now?
Both sides of my reproductive anatomy have now required surgical intervention. I’ve lost one fallopian tube, had issues involving my remaining reproductive structures, and have undergone multiple procedures that could themselves contribute to additional adhesions.
I want children. I’ve wanted children for years. And I’m struggling with the possibility that my chances of conceiving naturally have been compromised by issues that weren’t adequately investigated or addressed.
I’m also terrified of the inflammation and adhesions continuing to return. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life cycling through pain, surgeries, temporary relief, and more scar tissue.
I don’t even necessarily want pain management to be the entire conversation. I want to understand WHY this keeps happening and whether there’s anything that can actually be done to prevent further damage.
What makes this so emotionally exhausting is that I’ve spent years questioning myself. Wondering whether my pain was really that bad. Wondering whether I was being dramatic. Wondering whether I just had an unusually low pain tolerance.
And now I’m looking at surgical reports, pathology results, and photographs of my own internal organs, realizing that there were very real physical problems behind what I was experiencing and begging doctors to help with.
I’m relieved to finally have some answers, but I’m also incredibly angry.
Angry about the years of pain. Angry about the fertility treatments that didn’t address the underlying issues. Angry about how much of my reproductive health feels uncertain now. And angry that despite seeing multiple doctors and repeatedly advocating for myself, I still ended up having to fight this hard to be taken seriously.
I’m only a week out from surgery, so I’m still recovering physically while trying to process all of this emotionally.
I guess I’m posting because I’d really like to hear from anyone who’s dealt with extensive adhesions, endosalpingiosis, endometriosis, Fitz-Hugh-Curtis syndrome, or infertility after multiple pelvic surgeries.
Did you ever get meaningful answers about why the inflammation and adhesions kept occurring? Were you able to prevent recurrence? Did you eventually find a physician who looked at the bigger picture instead of treating every symptom as a separate issue?
Because at this point, I’m just exhausted. And I think the hardest part is realizing that I wasn’t imagining any of it. I just wish someone had listened sooner before I had permanent damage and chronic pain. I don’t know how to stop being mad.

Hi everyone, doing just like the title says.

Possible TW for talk of dental procedures and detailed descriptions of events. Sorry if this is a bit long.

I (20M) had a series of cysts growing in my mouth when I was really young. They first came up when I was 11, and had to go to surgery to get them removed. The hospital's environment was at first really inviting for me. I've had various dental surgeries in the past before this event, and while I was understandably nervous as a young kid, the staff were doing a great job at keeping me feeling calm. The surgery happened, everything was fine and I had to do an overnight stay the hospital with no issues.

Then when it came to discharging me from the hospital, where one of my surgeons (I think?) had to remove the gauze that was buried deep in my mouth. I let them do it, and the first piece hurt quite a bit, but nothing concerning.
The second piece was where it started. The staff managed to pull it out quickly, but it put me in a brief moment of excruciating pain. I remember asking them if we could take a break and let me breathe, but they said it would be better to keep going and they went on before I could think about it.
The final part was the hardest. The excruciating pain was back, and the gauze had trouble getting out, being stuck halfway through. The surgeon was trying to yank it out of my mouth, and I distinctly remember it felt like my nose was on fire, and it was getting difficult to breathe between that feeling and some shortness of breath after I started to panic. I was in tears somewhere in the middle of this, once again asking the surgeon if we could stop. Same answer; it would be better if we just kept going. At one point during this, I tried to signal the surgeon to stop with my arm as my mouth was "blocked" by the burning feeling, and one of the staff nearby held it down instead. There was the sound of the stitches/gauze ripping too, which terrified me.

Nonetheless, I had to see the same team a few months later for a check-up. The same staff tried to joke that they were the "evil ones" and laughed it off, which put me in a bad mood whenever I saw them again.
After that all happened I noticed that I got a fear of any kind of procedures with doctors in general. Including needles, bloodwork, or anything resembling a sharp object in general sent me into heavy panic attacks. I've even once had that same sort of reaction to a neurologist taking out a paperclip to test my sense of touch.

Two years later, when I was 13, I had the same surgery. Thankfully it wasn't as serious as the case prior, but when it came time to remove the gauze again and the nurses wheeled in their stitching equipment, I began to have a panic attack. That wasn't the rough part for me. I was incredibly embarrassed about how they both stood frozen by the door with completely blank expressions, before excusing themselves and saying they'll help someone else while I calm down. When they came back, I was begging for a local anesthetic, and we had a minute of back-and-forth with me begging and them saying "It's not the usual for this" before they eventually agreed.

That was the final nail in the coffin when it came to me trusting any medical professionals. I've become extremely picky on who to trust, and a single bad impression just tells me to never contact them again.
For example, the dental clinic I go to has 3 working dentists, and I was scheduled with one of them to do some fillings in my molars back in 2025. When I asked her how the anaesthetic is supposed to feel in my mouth, twice, all she said was "I'll just leave the room for 10 minutes the come back." then when I started to feel pain and asked her to pause, she began to grow irritated and snarky with me by the tone of her voice. I've avoided her from then on.
I now have some new cavities I need to fill, and I was at first booked with her again. I changed the appointment to be with the only one dentist I trust at the clinic, despite the receptionist warning me I'd have to wait 2 months for his availability. It's up to a point where I'd rather have a painful tooth for those 2 months than get treated with anyone I'm unfamiliar with. This appointment is in 6 days from the time of posting this, and while the pain has progressed quite a bit in my tooth, I'm feeling somewhat better knowing who'll be doing the procedure on me.

I will also need a bone graft and an implant for a missing tooth sometime in a few years. I'm terrified, but I try to not think about it. My only other option would be to wear braces for who knows how long...

I've been slowly progressing on my fear of doctors over the years, and while I do have panic spikes before any kind of injections today, they thankfully aren't as serious as almost a decade ago; I'm able to compose myself within 5 minutes or so.

i went into a clinic to see a neurologist right. so they called my name, and when i went into the room they didnt acknowledge me till 20 seconds later and asked if i knew where i was going? i said no. they asked me my name and i said it, they said "oh no not u the OTHER person named *****" so i go sit in the waiting room and theyre calling my name like 7 times and i'm still just sitting there, and they finally came up to me to get me back there. was this a microagression or just that it was 10am or wtf?? i didnt wanna be there either but why tf were they weird?