As most of you know, perhaps the hardest year of my childhood was when I was 15. It had been three years since my seizure disorder had first appeared and by this time in my life, I was drowning in illness, anxiety and frustration. I felt extremely vulnerable and alone inside. My family and friends did what they could and fought for me, loved and cared for me, but my convulsions grew so severe that the ER became nearly a second home - unwanted, of course!
I was suddenly faced with having to throw my complete trust and also my life, really, into a group of strangers, many of them men. There were several times that I'd need to be exposed in front of male nurses as a female nurse cleaned my backside. I've had male nurses hoist me up onto bed pans or change the dressing on my bed. In those moments, I'd try so very hard to detach myself from my body. I'd shut down and silently pray to God that I'd have more of my dignity back. I've had to have ultrasounds of my uterus done by male medical students, the only thing covering me being a folded white towel, that would slightly slide as he moved his gloved hands across me. Though I knew these men were trained (or being trained) to be discrete nurses or doctors, it didn't make the experiences any less jarring.
Most of these things have had to be done without a female loved one by my side and I've felt knots in my stomach tie as I've been pushed onto my side, a male nurse gently pressing my face into his stomach while a female nurse undid my hospital gown.
There were a few times in my schooling that I worked with a male assistant (as a substitute), in a pinch. That was always a bit awkward, because I'd have to go find a female teacher to help me if I needed to use the restroom. One of my [male] friends who worked as a teacher in my school, once had to feed me a cookie and that was okay, because I was close to him and he was used to it. But when there are times that I just have no other option but to accept assistance from male nurses, I try my best to see it for what it is. One such nurse lifted me off of an ultrasound table and as he swung me around to sit in my chair, he said, "we're dancing!" and I smiled. I've come to the conclusion that while working with a carer of the opposite gender, I have two options in how I can choose to feel: vulnerable/exposed or secure.
These experiences have taught me the importance of feeling secure with who I am as a woman and have helped me grow in my emotional health. These experiences have tested my strength in ways that are sometimes very out of my comfort zone, but at the end of the day I realize my willingness and ability to work with various people under all sorts of pressures, have been broadened, and I appreciate that.
MY TIPS FOR AN EASY EXPERIENCE WORKING WITH CARERS OF THE OPPOSITE GENDER & WHY:
1.) plan ahead: tell your caregiver how you want things to go. Mention specific positions and when you'd like to be in them, as well as the best way you'd like them to assist you into them. Tell them what specific things you'll need help with, and the amount of assistance you will need. Tell them the level of privacy you desire in certain situations which may include: dressing, meals, personal hygiene or transferring.
2.) tell them how you feel: if they truly respect your dignity and desire for the most privacy possible, they'll have no issue with understanding that you may prefer someone of the same gender to assist you.
3.) Ask them to explain things first: before they begin to assist you, ask them to explain just what they are going to do and how. Listen closely to them, because if they don't offer you a towel or other cover-up option (if possible and relevant), ask nicely for one. You don't necessarily need to explain why if you don't want to.
4.) Get to know your carer: ease any uneasiness by making both of you laugh and ask about your caregivers nursing experience. Both of my caregivers worked directly with children who were severely physically challenged, and knowing this relaxed me a bit. I knew they were used to doing this and that they were willing to listen to my needs.
5.) Look away while the carer helps you: if possible and relevant to the task, consider closing your eyes or looking down while your carer is assisting you, whenever safe to do so. This may help ease your anxiety and imagine you are in your ideal situation.
6.) Allow yourself to say "no": this is very vital. Don't ever just passively submit or surrender to a situation you're not entirely comfortable with! Know or ask about possible alternatives. If there comes a time before or while you are receiving help from someone of the opposite gender, that you feel at all uneasy or unsure of things, it's okay to firmly and politely express it. This applies and is not limited to working with medical staff, home health aids, school aids, and public transport employees. Whoever you're working with, they are to respect your privacy boundaries at all times and you have the right and authority to tell them if they are at risk of crossing them. Advocating of yourself in this way is imperative to ensuring that you remain as safe as possible in any moment.