Medical Trauma

Medical equipment lines the walls as your feet dangle off the edge of the table. The smell of plastic gloves—and fear—fills the air. Your palms are sweaty, your heartbeat rapid, and your breathing heavy. Cold hands begin to examine your skin, and with each touch, anxiety creeps closer, inch by inch.

The overhead lights hang above, blinding you as you stare into them. You bite your lip, trying to steady yourself, while strangers in white coats move around you. Their voices are unfamiliar, distant, detached. PTSD rushes in before you can stop it, flooding your mind and body.

Tears threaten to surface as heat builds inside you. Overheating sets in. Your heart pounds harder. Faster. Louder. You’ve been here before—trapped in this feeling—and you know it won’t be the last time.

— Taylor Jackson