Consent mattered that day
You told me what you were going to do, and that I could ask you to stop at any time.
For the first time in a medical setting, my body stopped bracing — not because the procedure changed, but because the care did.
When the room went quiet
The silence felt louder than anything else in the room.
What stayed with me wasn’t the procedure, but how exposed I felt — and how much attuned presence mattered in that moment.
When I said “no”
They asked if I was okay, but didn’t know what to do when I said no.
My body was in shock — shaking, bracing — with nowhere for that distress to land.