Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Talking to Doctors

I'm not a total bumbling idiot most of the time.  I usually feel pretty confident that I know what I'm talking about.  I'm a smart, educated person.

Until I walk into a doctor's office.

It's like all knowledge, any motherly instinct, any hunches or theories turn to absolute mush.  The doctor looks over my kid, says she's fine (when I know she's not), and sends us on our way.  Meanwhile, there is green goop dripping from my daughter's eyes, which the doctor waves off with a flick of her hand.  It's fine, she says, just draining.

I knew I should have asked for drops.  Just fine, sure.  But also hideous to look at.  And next to impossible for Laura to keep her eyes open.  Toddlers should be able to blink and see things, right?

So why didn't I ask?  Why didn't I advocate for my daughter?  Why do I put so much faith into the flippant words of a busy doctor?  Why haven't I called the doctor this morning to push for a prescription?  I think it's time to pick up the phone.