King Henry VIII

Following the trauma of yet another hospital admission - nine nights at the helm of a diverticulitis attack, T (Therapist) conducted a SE® session based on re-establishing calm and safety.

I had already cried at work, earlier in the day, and was rather tearful on and off during the session, although it was unclear what the tears were about. T did ask, but I was unable to explain. I suspected relief, and letting off a safety valve, as felt that I was overwhelmed and in the 'red' again. I said how I felt 'chest pain' but that got relieved a little after crying.

During the session T asked me to imagine being someone strong. For some reason I immediately thought of a) a king. Then King Henry VIII. Strong, large, with his sword by his side. The ability to cut off someones head. Suddenly I felt very powerful, calm, masterful and in control.

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The next day, I had reason to use my King Henry VIII imagery as I had just been to see a GP at the emergency walk-in centre who told me I might have hospital-induced pneumonia, that my BP was 150/101, so very high and that I had a high temperature. My chest sounded terrible. I also told her I thought my diverticulitis was just starting up again as I had had tummy pain from the morning. Initially she was typing some prescriptions, but upon hearing about the diverticulitis decided I should go straight to A&E. I was already feeling rather anxious about all this information, had packed a hospital bag (in case of need) and took a cab to A&E, where I used my imagery of King Henry VIII. It was the only real tool I had to try and calm me down, as well as looking to the right (looking left is where part of my traumas lie). Upon arrival to A&E, after being triaged and admitted to the 'Majors' dept, I had an  ECG, BP, temperature taken, was left for a few minutes and then I started howling in distress. I was told to be quiet and 'what is all this about?' by a very dismissive and unsympathetic nurse. I tried to use my imagery again, but actually the tears were very needed, both then and much later when I returned home. I am sure even King Henry VIII must have cried at some point or another. I put my armour down and succumbed.