Day 941: Who would you bring in?

Yesterday, at an EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) session, my therapist George gave me an assignment.

He and I were revisiting a very upsetting incident when I was young and left alone with a lot of pain in a hospital room (which I’ve written about here).  The assignment was this:

Make a list of people —  real and fictional — you can imagine protecting and fighting for you. Next time we meet, we’ll bring them into that hospital room with you.

Here are some people I thought of immediately:

I asked George, “How many people can I bring in to that hospital room with me? I don’t think they’ll all fit.” George told me I could bring as many people as I want.

Now,  I’m really looking forward to next week’s EMDR session.

Let’s see if I have any recent photos on my iPhone of some  people I might bring with me, into that hospital room of so long ago.

That’s a very good start.

What music might I bring in, from YouTube? I thought of the chorus of this song (although many of the lyrics don’t fit):

I also like Bruno Mars’s “Grenade”  because there’s a short version reminding me of a fellow WordPresser:

Here‘s a more relevant song:

Who would you bring in, with you?

Finally, I’m bringing in two photos I took yesterday, before my meeting with George and after a therapy group I facilitated at work:

Now I’d like to bring in thanks to George, Bruno Mars, Buffalo Tom Peabody, the Four Seasons, all the people imagined and real in today’s post,  and — of course! — you, for bringing yourself in, today.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism, Psychotherapy | Tags: , , , , , | 52 Comments

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52 thoughts on “Day 941: Who would you bring in?

  1. What a great assignment and great that the room can be as crowded as you want! and Shirley Maclaine would certainly be perfect. I love seeing the faces that have become so familiar to me through your blog- they all exude such positive energy! I also love the drawing with serenity and flowers.

  2. You have such a wonderful way of offering a completely different perspective on things. So often we’re left alone in hospital rooms, but it’s so easy to fill the room, so easy to not be alone. Just knowing how easily it can be to take control, to change the circumstances can be a great source of comfort.

    • I’m bringing you, Christopher ( and your wonderful perspective), into the room, too!

      • I’ll be happy to be there. Here’s a story I’ll bring with me: this post reminded me of a time I had to sleep alone in an uncle’s downstairs room. He was a hunter and had several deer heads mounted on the wall, which I found frightening. Then I imagined them speaking in funny voices and telling jokes. It made getting through the night much easier.

  3. I’ll come! I’ll come! And I’ll bring Beaumont and Marley the Great Cat and stories of wonder and awe and loads and loads of love and encouragement and big hugs too!

    Love your seemingly endless capacity to cast light on life’s road and make it feel all sparkly and bright dear Ann. ❤

  4. I love that song by the Four Seasons. Haven’t heard it in years. Thank-you for bringing it in to your post. I remember being in labor with my first child, and being left in a patient room way down the end of the hall for hours while going through this horrendous back labor. Someone would come down once in a while to give me pain medication, but none of it worked (I read later that redheads don’t metabolize some pain medication well). And I had sent my husband home earlier in the evening – no point both of us being miserable. I will never forget those hours of feeling like I was completely abandoned and alone. I can’t imagine what that would be like for a child, being alone and in pain. If I had to choose, I think I would bring my dogs in, especially my Golden Retriever, Maxie. He is such a sensitive and empathetic soul and he gets it, he understands (and he doesn’t talk a lot).

  5. What a brilliant and healing concept he had there. So glad you have found your posse, it’s never too late. Wishing you a new, improved version of that harming hospital incident. We can all relate, somehow. ❤️

  6. Janet H

    Ann, just so you know, I’m working on a time machine so we can go back to that hospital room and give Dr. Nincompoop what-for. We’ll pick up Jackie Chan on the way (and maybe Jeanette, if she wants to come with).

    Serious note, like you, my brother was hospitalized several times as a kid, once for about 4-5 months. Kids weren’t allowed in to visit, but I remember sneaking around to the back of the building a couple of times, where someone would lift my brother up so he could wave to us through a window. I’m so glad you can talk about & share your experiences/memories, I’m sure it lightens the pain. Sadly, my brother won’t say a word.

    Okay, back to work on that time machine. Once I figure out how to avoid paradoxes (AKA how not to kill your own grandpa), it should be all set.

    • I can’t imagine anybody who could build a better time machine than you, Janet. I’m bringing you in and Ray, too!

  7. I would be happy to kick some people in the shins for you and your younger self! 🙂

  8. I love this and am glad your room is crowded.

  9. NotAPunkRocker

    Jackie Chan is a good one, but I would also add Uma Thurman’s character from the “Kill Bill” movies. 🙂

  10. I love this idea Ann … and your choices too 🙂 That cat is a hoot.
    Thinks … don’t take it in with you, it might make a mess or break something …

    • I’m definitely bringing you in, Val. I can’t guarantee there won’t be messes or things broken, with or without cats.

      • Thank you I am honored Ann 🙂
        I am good in messes as long as there is someone to do the clean up … xo

  11. Jan Woodruff

    I’m there, anytime, anywhere to kick that moron’s ass for what he did to you so long ago!! And I LOVE those songs…another one that I have rediscovered that you may want to think of playing at the beginning of the day is Bill Withers “Lovely Day”. It really has made a difference for me…I just can’t help but smile 🙂 🙂 🙂 😛 🙂 🙂 🙂

    • You are the best ass-kicker ever, Jan! I’m bringing you in there and we can all sing “Lovely Day” together.

  12. Me, myself? Well nobody! It’s so roomy in here!

  13. Okay, Okay, wait….Zzzz…

    • Oh Ann, please excuse this fur-ball of a cat. This is a great exercise for building up a network of people to help heal events that simply circle inside one’s head and will just not heal (or one cannot let go). Please let me know how it goes. What I’ve also done is the traditional method of wishing the person who harmed me the best, and even visualise a “goodbye party” so that I myself dismiss the person, instead of the person always dismissing me. However, your idea of bringing up a whole team of people sounds like a great idea. It would make my goodbye party even more exciting.

      • I love the ideas in this comment, Maria. You’re definitely going in there with me. Go team!

      • Hello, hello, hello? Did someone just call me??? It’s Heidi! Oh Ann, are you sure there’s room for grumpy cat? All she does is sell cat food and even then they have to wake her up.

      • There’s room for Heidi, too.

    • Oh Ann, Barbie, Emma and Samantha want room too. Oh Ann, you’re so nice. Samantha!!!!!!

    • Hello? Didn’t the phone just ring? I could have sworn I heard my phone ring!

  14. MAG

    You have in your ipod good, generous and sensitive people, with humor too ; perfect in your room, the opposite of the horrible doctor.
    But who’s the statue ?
    And your cat is a guest to ? 🙂 🙂

    • You have a good eye for good people, MAG. I’ll be bringing you in there, too, along with the Red Sox’s Carl Yastrzemski (my baseball hero from the 60’s and 70’s) and definitely some cats.

  15. The crowd would do a great job standing up for you, Ann. I love this exercise.

  16. What an interesting exercise! I’ve no doubt you’d have a room packed to the max, cats and all 🙂

  17. May your friends do battle for you and rid you of the ghost of that awful doctor

  18. amusez798387

    I am there with you . Love the photos.

  19. Pingback: Day 948: The Game of Life | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  20. Pingback: Day 1035: Change | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

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