When I was 4 I went in hospital to have my tonsils out.
I have strong memories from this time for many reasons.

, being away from my adoptive mother. Not that she was any good. But the whole separation thing.

2, because one night I stuck my arm out the side of the cot bed they put me in and the nurse touching my arm to poke it back. I remember feeling this was so wonderful - no touch with adoptive mother - but I felt so dirty/guilty for wanting it.

I've told this story to T often. More about how difficult it was for me to accept this would be a normal thing to want.

Anyway... Years since I've talked about this or Even been in that place anymore, I dreant last night that I was with T and pretending to be asleep so she would touch my arms to move them.

Wtf!? Where has this come from? Why now?
I will tell T next session. But to think we can be back in places we think we've finished with, gives me lots to reflect on.