Last night I was taken to the ER because I had an abscess. I have a history of them, but hadn't had one in a couple of years. I was lucky enough to get a doctor I liked and a nurse who was very kind (some of the doctors and nurses are not as pleasant there). Because of my history of them, I had the unpleasant and painful memory of the experience of getting them taken care of. I'd had them three times before last night. The first memory was of me being at my primary doctor's office. The second was of me in the ER. I had had a panic attack and was hysterical, so they'd given me ativan. This experience was the best of the three because I don't remember feeling pain (other than the shot of ativan). I had also been given the opportunity to watch something during the procedure. It had been the first twilight movie, during the baseball scene. The doctor said some funny comment. My third memory was the worst. I had gotten a doctor who neglected me. It was an experience that worried me about going to the ER again, inthe slight chance I'd get this doctor or a doctor like him. Luckily, I've never seen that doctor again.Last night, the doctor gave me the option for him to do the procedure and try his best to make sure it did not occur again or for me to wait and come back, but if I had waited and came back, the doctor would have been different, so I voted for the doctor to do it last night since he is one of my favorites. This time they sedated me so that I was asleep during the procedure. This was good because one, I didn't feel any pain during and two, I had less anxiety about the situation. I have rambled a lot, but there is a point to this post, I promise. When I woke up, after my mom had made sure I was okay, she took a video of me. For the first time in a very, very long time I felt like I was a good person. Because of my obsessive, intrusive thoughts, I have thought I was an evil person. But last night, while coming out of sedation, I had spoken of not the intrusive thoughts, but positive things. I had been happy and kind. I had worried about other people's safety. I had complimented a nurse (I had wanted to tell her she was beautiful before, but had worried it may be creepy or weird so I had kept it to myself). While watching that video, I felt relief. I didn't speak of the darkest thoughts in my mind that I dread, I had been kind. In my most vulnerable moments, I had been the kind of person I hoped I was. It allowed me to believe for the first time what people continued to tell me and others with ocd, that thesethoughts created by ocd were not me. I'm sorry for this very long and rambling post. Thank you if you read it.