Anger

Two months ago my wife was assaulted by a medical professional during what should’ve been a routine gynecology exam.

There was no-one else in the room except her and the doctor.

The clinic did an exam two days later but “lost” the photographic evidence due to an “equipment malfunction.”

Several days later they simply said it was a “rough exam.”

The anger has been growing ever since.

It is like a bubble that she moves in and sees through but that she can not see herself.

It sits in her jaw and hides with a dullness in her eyes.

She wants me to see her and touch her, but it is like staring at the sun or knowingly putting my hand on the hot stove. And I just can’t.

Her therapist tells her to let it out, to recognize it, but from where I stand it feels like she is fanning the furnace of rage and I am the only outlet for it’s scalding heat.

This event has changed us and what we are. I have great fear about the loss — for I have loved who we have been and the life that we made together that has brought us here, difficult as it has been.

So I am so afraid these days to say anything. And to say nothing.

And that is leading to a build of my own anger — because this is not my fault and I don’t know how to take care of the woman who has done so much for me, changed me in such deep and good ways.