Sunday 7 November 2010

Momma, will I ever be able to pee again?

The 9 year old asked in a trembling terrified voice. I am standing beside her in one of those miniscule hospital emergency room examining stations. Two weeks ago her father, who got custody, actually brought her for a visit. (he never followed court orders) Her sister didn't come. She had marched straight up to the bathroom - actually - limped up- one step, one foot. Then the other foot, hesitatingly beside it. She looked to be in pain. She never spoke. I held back from going up, to see if the wife beater,child sexual assaulter and bestiality practitioner was outside still. He was. Parked. So, we cannot speak. He had bought one of those listening devices. I don't know if it was effective for listening, but the girls certainly thought so.

By the time I go upstairs, the little one- she was small for her age - was in the bathtub- and scalding hot water was in the tub. Horrified, I put on the cold water. She spoke- "No it has to be hot." She turns it off when it is only about two inches deep. I don't understand - but I know it is profound. Her eyes tell me that. Her entire being speaks of trauma. I still don't get it-. I pick up her clothes- dirty as usual. The underpants are coated, in the crotch area with a dried viscous white substance. I think- now he has given her an infection. I want to take her to the hospital. I can't. I have no money. None. I have no gas. I dare not phone the doctor. The perpetrator is still outside. He has attacked men - not just me and not just children. If I phone and he can hear me with that blasted device-the doctor is at even more risk.

I cannot remember the rest of the day.I only know that 2 weeks later I saw her again on a Sunday, and I had some money for gas to go to the hospital. The underpants are in a Ziploc bag.

The doctor doesn't SEE what is in front of him. Or doesn't want to. Emergency room doctors on weekends are frequently beginners. I don't suppose doctors are taught anything about female anatomy from babyhood on. Does he think it normal what I see clearly ? Does he ask ? No. Another big nothing.My child has been raped and no-one sees, hears or wants to know. If I speak too much, my chances of being killed increase- and it looks as though the ONLY thing I can do for my children- is not be killed by him. That would prove the hopelessness of living to them- for sure.

The doctor DID write a bit- about redness he saw - but nothing of the tearing- which I saw. But then- 21 years later-if an adult is raped- there is no operating place, with rape kits etc. -available.(in my geographic region) Society teaches us well- women and children are - nothing.You can do anything you want to them, and nothing will happen. And if you try to tell ? - You are criminalized- for "wanting to tell lies about the nice man." All the while- our society makes nice noises about combatting child sexual assaults.

The underpants finally went to the social services. The answer came back: "there is nothing we can do."

I never thought they would or could- but- followed the law anyway.But then- apart from the perpetrator, the social services were a major obstacle for protecting my children. Goes like this : follow the law, report child sexual aggressions, go for divorce to protect them and self-be blamed for lying by social services, lose custody to child rapist. Some wonder why more sex crimes are not reported -well- really- how inane can you get.

I love to watch Dexter. Of course. I wish he were real.

Every day I want to wrap my arms around my children and tell them I will protect them from a criminal. But that would be lying to them. And now they are confused adults- out there somewhere.I guess.

No comments:

Post a Comment