I took bubba to a naturopathic physician. He's been sick since October, been on antibiotics twice, and with the last virus I had had enough. Like when you are in a restaurant and all of a sudden you have waited too long for your meal and can't wait another minute? Like that. I mean, jeepers, he refused all fluids for days. I was worried. And naturopaths? Aren't they all about prevention and stuff? Boosting immune systems and such?
So imagine my surprise when I got, from the competent providers taking care of me, the 1950's pat-on-the-head treatment. They didn't actually say "there there it's all in your head," but things were going in that direction. You realize this is normal for babies in day care blah blah I can tell you must be tired blah blah my niece had this same thing and we just waited it out blah blah blah.
As I wondered why they were looking at me as though my mouth was moving but no sound was coming out, I realized then how I must look. Rolling into their office with my really rather robust baby, my jogging stroller, my health insurance. My North Face jacket. Another overeducated delayed-childbearer with too much time on her hands who thinks every little cold her preshus baybee gets is a serious illness, who obviously has no idea how bad it can get.
I'm not trying to complain. They had some decent recommendations and I'm all for integrative medicine still. In fact, I'm so not a complainer that once I went to an Indian restaurant and ordered a simple korma and they brought me some other thing with a banana in it (a banana!), and I was all, it's okay, I can just pick the banana out, I don't want to inconvenience you or your chef.
But I felt invisible in that office, and it made me want to scream. And apologize to all the people I have ever looked right through because at first glance they filled a stereotype. I'm sure there are plenty. It is a terrible thing, to not be seen. And I was only invisible for an hour.