trauma

Probably 10 years ago, i found at goodwill this gigantic, tall and deep, 5 drawer filing cabinet.

As of today, the filing cabinet is slam full.  Not one more piece of paper can it hold.  It can’t fit another bill or another financial document or another report.  It can’t hold any more tax documents or medical records or child’s school paper.  It just can’t hold any more.

2/3 of this giant file cabinet contains paperwork for girlie.  Paperwork documenting seizures of previous years, documenting pharmaceuticals, documenting billings, documenting therapy sessions, documenting therapy before she started school (prior to age 3), documenting school records, documenting government run assistance, documenting medical procedures, documenting insurance paperwork, housing booklets for all of her equipment.

So, in my excitement of organizing, I printed out Clark Howard and Dave Ramsey’s guides on what to keep and what to get rid of – how long to keep each type of paperwork.  (P.S. no where does either financial wizard mention boatloads of medical paperwork).

I started with the easy stuff – old credit card statements and purged everything prior to 3 years.    Then moved on to getting rid of some mid-year financial records, only keeping year ending reports.  Easy stuff.

Then, I attempted to move on to some of girlie’s records.   Thinking that I would create binders for prior years of medical records that truly needed keeping (EOBs can be purged for anything older than 3 years), I decided to start with the oldest file, the year she was born, 2004.  3 plus inches thick of paperwork.

Organizing came to a screeching halt.

My heart started racing as I read,  An entire packet, hundreds of pages, was dedicated to just the billing of her muscle biopsy to tell us her mitochondria in the cells were not functioning, just the billing!!!, and next came the entire packet of the results, another 50 or so pages!!!.    I stopped.

I flipped to the back of the file, thinking maybe that would be easier.  My palms started sweating and my stomach went nausea as I read billings from her birth, hospital, insurance records.  Pediatrician records on caring for a newborn, as if.  Fliers they give out with vaccines (not the vaccine inserts that are required by law to be given).

The anxiety built.  My will stopped.  I had no more desire to look at any of this.  My mind just won’t do it.  I don’t want to relive any of the trauma.   I shut down, mentally and physically.

For that is what it is and always will be, the time in my life of deep deep trauma.  

My newborn stopped developing with each set of vaccines and regressed to less ability than a newborn, and at the 6 month set of vaccines began having chaotic brain waves and outward seizures each and every day.  The chaotic brain waves never never never stopped.  Girlie’s will to develop never came back.

I closed the file, put it all back in the cabinet and walked away.  I don’t know if I will ever be able to go back to it.

It still needs organizing.

It still needs to be done.

But just not now …

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.  Psalm 139:23