(Forgiveness – Matthew West)
Match day was very recent, so I’ve been thinking more than usual recently about my almost PGY-2 residency…or more specifically my program director in that position. And I realized I didn’t feel good about her (obviously…) but I don’t feel angry at her. I feel angry that there were not checks and balances of power to protect me from her. I still feel incredibly terrified of her and of if she might still be planning further attacks on me. But the biggest thing I feel might be fear and sadness that there might be more young pharmacists headed into her danger zone. I do believe people can change, but I also feel it is unlikely that she has changed.
And that made me realize one of the big things that almost residency took away from me. Match day for so many years was a negative experience. Even 2020 when I did match, I matched and that same day the word started rapidly changing in a way that made life more challenging. In 2021 I matched again, and it was amazing…for all of a few hours. Before the end of the day, I’d gotten an email from the program and I don’t know exactly what about it set me off, but I could just tell there was something wrong. I assumed at the time it was just anxiety over the massive change coming my way, and maybe my body still remembering all of the pain-filled match days of the past years, but I know now that my instincts were right that there was a problem. Sometimes I wish I’d heeded that red flag even if it means losing the amazing things that came about alongside the challenges. I love the self-confidence I gained. I hate the fear that the assault, lies, and false accusations incited.
This 2021 match day should have been a redeeming experience and made match day into the celebration that it seems like the rest of the world sometimes wants it to be. Instead, the events that followed over the next 9 months ensured that match day would remain a difficult day. Instead of transitioning from grieving my own experience to celebrating it and celebrating the younger pharmacists following behind me in March and April every year, I transitioned to grieving the pharmacists and students whose dream is about to be shattered into a nightmare with glass shards forever in their feet as they try to move through what was supposed to be what they wanted. I wish I could warn them. I hope the few lights in that place are continuing to be bright spots of solace in a dark place. But I know that the darkness is still there. I was watching ‘I didn’t match’ videos this weekend on youtube and my heart goes out to those young physicians and pharmacists, but I also feel some jealousy that if I hadn’t matched my life would have been so much better at least for a handful of months. I feel like I learned a lot about my own value and about life and I made some incredible friends in the process, but that 2021 match day brought me to a place where I was assaulted at work and the concern wasn’t about the impact on me and my ability to complete residency in a place where this happened, but about whether anyone else would find out. That match day brought me to a place where someone was hiding in a public park taking videos of me while I was just trying to move on with my life and make lemonade with the lemons I’d been given by enjoying the newfound free time I had…I guess I shoulda known that lemonade only works if life also gives you water and sugar…lol…it was so incredibly violating to read that this had been happening. For the past 3 months I’d been fearful of being found by that RPD or the manager from that position, and had thought that fear was unfounded yet still rehearsed as I rode what I would do if there were a legitimate sighting. It honestly wouldn’t have surprised me if one or both of them had a weapon. But it was a surprise that they were actively but stealthily looking for me…I suppose it would be slightly obvious if she had waited for me outside my apartment door…plus I am fairly certain my building had security cameras…but especially when I was less than an hour away from packing up my u-haul and supposedly running away to safety, my guard was down and it was incredibly jarring to find out I really hadn’t been safe. I still wonder if this timing was intentional, if it was known that I was about to take my next professional step and this was an intentional step to try to block me or at least slow me down. And I’m gonna stop here because I’ve already probably said too much. I feel very afraid to post this. I don’t want trauma and the bad people to control my entire life, but when they’ve had so much power for so long it is hard. It is hard to know when so many “crazy” “unfounded” fears have been reality to believe there is any chance at all that these words aren’t going to be found and somehow used against me.
And it is isolating. After drafting this I was back to not wanting to be seen outside in case someone was watching and waiting. My “spidey-senses” are alerting for Ev.Ry.Thing. And I know keeping me quiet was the goal of so much of this which means I totally am playing right into their hand…but I don’t know where to find safety. I have too much experience with bad people truly doing inconceivable things to be able to eve attempt to logic my way out of the fear.
My health coach has unknowingly provided a LOT of healing on the other hand by respecting my boundaries and giving me choices whenever possible, especially when it comes to sharing what I’ve said with other people…’cause yeah, my healthcare team should get to find out if my treatment plan needs to be changed, but it is empowering and keeps me from feeling like I’m being talked about behind my back when I am ASKED if it is okay to tell my physical therapist that my pain levels have been too high for too long with the current plan rather than just assuming I was going to say yes and asking for the intensity to be decreased. We both know I was going to say yes, but putting the ball into my court to get to GIVE that permission makes such a huge difference. It shows that my opinion matters. It shows that my words matter. It shows that I can be respected, valued, and deemed competent to make my own choices. I haven’t shared my trauma with my coach, but it really feels like she uses principles of trauma-informed care, and it makes such a huge difference to feel seen. And socially it is perfect that if I participate I am praised for sharing, but there is no regret/hard feelings expressed if I don’t respond well to attempts at communication. If I give a one-word answer or need extra time to respond there is no shame that I’m not a prolific communicator. I guess long story short, she makes it okay to be who I am while making space for me to grow. I get a chance to use my words, while being given words when I’m struggling to find my own. And I am thankful.
A journey through trauma & triumph 