My Personalities Switched Again

Have you ever gone to the doctor for a physical condition that seemed serious to you, and when you got home, you can’t remember what the doctor said about it? That happens to me quite often, and last week I figured out why.

My husband Bob took me to the dermatologist last week because I had a suspicious spot on my arm that looked like it could be cancerous. The doctor was a young man, probably still in his twenties and he is the younger brother of my previous dermatologist, so I trusted him.

He came in with his nurse and questioned me for several minutes about the spot on my arm, diagnosing it as pernicious eczema. We were chatting pleasantly as he came around the exam table and picked up my other hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, checking for possible skin cancers. I remember feeling his touch and thinking it was sexy. I think he felt it too, because he quickly withdrew his hand.

He asked me a few more questions and gave me two samples of a cream to use to fight the diseased spot on my arm. The nurse wrote down the instructions for me, so I wouldn’t forget them. The doctor talked to Bob a few minutes, answered some questions, and then we left.

Later, after Bob and I got home, we were talking about the doctor visit. I mentioned that I thought I might have a spot on my neck and that I wished I had asked the doctor about it.

“The doctor examined your neck,” Bob reminded me.

“No he didn’t,” I said, frowning.

“He walked all around you and lifted up your hair, and looked at your skin. Don’t you remember?”

“No!” I thought this was very strange. I didn’t remember the doctor checking over my left arm, my face or my neck.

“It just happened a few hours ago,” Bob said, looking at me strangely. “How could you forget?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, thinking back to my visit to the doctor. “I remember he checked my right hand, and then it was time to go.” Bob and I seemed to realize what happened at the same time. I had dissociated during the office visit. One of my other personalities had come in and taken my place, while the doctor had gone around me and checked for cancers. The excitement I felt when he touched my hand must have triggered fear and caused a personality switch.

I was really amazed as I stood talking to Bob. How could I switch so easily and not notice? I’ve been in therapy for years, and my personalities are still dissociating.

I’m hoping most of you do not have alternate personalities popping into your conscious mind without permission, but I wonder if some of you have forgotten what the doctor said during a visit. Is it because of my age or does it happen to young people occasionally?


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Other Multiples

If you know someone with multiple personalities, please tell them about my blog. I would like to connect with them

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