An Update

Those of you that follow me on Twitter are already aware of the events of Monday night. For those of you that are not aware, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I was raped on Monday night. I refuse to get into the details, because they’re not important. Rehashing them won’t change what happened. I’m choosing not to report. If you want to know some of the reasons many victims choose not to report their rapes, there are plenty of articles that have been written chronicling them, none of which I have the energy to look up for you right now. If you’d like to leave any in the comments, please do.

Reporting a rape (or any violent crime) is a personal decision. I’m sick of being asked (most of the time by men) why I would choose not to report. Many victims of domestic violence never press charges against their batterers. Many people from “bad neighborhoods” who are assaulted due in large part to the culture they are forced to survive in don’t report those beatings. It’s because these people tend to be the kinds of victims that are blamed by authorities. I have no way to know for sure that I would be blamed or shamed, but for me, it’s not worth it to find out. So please, don’t send anymore “well meaning” emails or comments that go something like this:

I can’t believe you’d accept that answer from a woman who comes to you saying she’d been raped… It needs to be reported, regardless of what little you might know.

Thanks.

Jesus came back from his hiking trip for a few days to be here to take care of me. I was lucky; my physical injuries are not bad. Some mild bruising on my knees, shins, and elbows. A sore neck and back. A sore vagina. I threw up for about 30 hours following the attack, I’m thinking due to the shock and trauma of it all. It’s interesting timing for this, as I’ve been working on a post about never feeling safe after reading a similar one over at alphafemme’s. I guess my feelings are valid.

What I do want to talk about, though, is the amazing treatment and help I got from the services I did reach out for. I happened to have an initial appointment with a new therapist this morning, which couldn’t have been better timed. They booked me an appointment with a clinician for as soon as they could and were super supportive. I had called my PCP on Tuesday to ask what the best course of action would be for me, as I wanted to look into preventative medications. I spoke to his receptionist and he called me back himself to check on me. He even called me today to see how I was doing, despite the fact that he’s not in the office on Wednesdays.

If you are in the Boston area and are unfortunate enough to be assaulted, I can’t recommend the emergency department at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital enough. Everyone there was amazing. I never felt pressured for a rape kit, and every nurse that spoke with me was super empathetic. They were great about providing me with female nurses and doctors, even though I said I’d be okay with a male. This is the second time I’ve had to go to the ED there (the first being when I had an allergic reaction to medication), and it’s so clean and nice and bright and way less crowded than most of the other hospitals in the area.

I was asked for some details about the attack, and then given literature, resources, and a rundown of the options and services they were able to provide me. I got an IV for my dehydration and nausea, since I’d been vomiting for the past day and a half. They took blood and urine to run tests for STDs and such. I declined Plan B, since I’m currently on birth control, and declined a pelvic exam since I wasn’t experiencing sharp pains, bleeding, or discharge. The exam would have simply been to check for bleeding and/or bruising, which will heal on their own anyway. If anything changes, I can always go back.

I was given a crap ton of medications. They gave me the meds that I only have to take one dose of while I was there. I was given Metronidazole for possible bacterial infection, Azithromycin to prevent most STDs, Truvada to prevent HIV, and a shot of Ceftriaxone in my butt (also for STD prevention). In total, it was about 15 pills, and holy crap did they wreak havoc on my stomach. Ugh. I also received a 30-day prescription for Truvada and Kaletra for HIV prevention. Also fucking awful on my stomach. I’ll have to follow-up with my primary care in two weeks and six weeks for testing and stuff.

As reluctant as I was to go to the hospital, I’m so grateful that Jesus made me go. I feel so much better knowing that I took care of myself. And I could not ask for better people in my life. Jesus has been nothing but supportive, coming straight home, not being upset when I didn’t want to report it, not being upset with me in any regard to the circumstances leading up to the assault. Multiple local friends have offered to take me to doctor’s appointments, police stations, or just come and stay with me for a bit. Twitter and online folks have been coming out of the woodwork to offer support. I can’t thank everyone enough, and knowing that I have so much support and love means the world.