doctors, drugs and hassled moms
When Germaine, 45, developed sharp pains in her chest a few days after a 'money' argument with her daughter she went into panic mode and thought she was having a heart attack.
"I suppose I should have called an ambulance straight away," muses Germaine, "but because my husband would have got here quicker I telephoned him instead. He carries his phone with him, but I guess he couldn't answer, so I left an urgent message and then decided to drag myself off to see the local doctor. If I got into trouble on the way I could call out for help. It was better than sitting home alone in panic mode waiting for my husband to respond to my urgent message."
"For normal health problems - coughs and colds and broken bones - we drive to the big medical center in town ," says Germaine. "It's quick - you get to see the first available doctor; it has all X-Ray and lab services on tap for quick results; and it's open 24/7. But I didn't dare drive that day. I didn't have far to walk and besides which I prefer our local doctor for important health problems - he gives more personal care than the big medical centers."
"It was about 1pm when I arrived and his surgery was packed," relates Germaine. "I was told I'd have to wait at least an hour to see the doctor - it was actually an hour and a half - but I didn't mind. I was, after all, in the right place for medical assistance."
"I made small talk with the other patients - flipped through old magazines - watched a bit of television - went outside for some fresh air - visited the bathroom - and generally observed my fellow patients as they came and went."
"Strangely - or not so strangely considering that men get cared for by their wives or girlfriends - not one man was a patient in the surgery waiting room. They were all women - young women with children, young women in suits probably taking the afternoon off to visit the doctor - and older women like myself with the saddest faces of all."
"At my examination, all the vital signs were okay," says Germaine. "The doctor asked me what had caused the 'panic attack' and when I told him about the argument with my daughter he commiserated with me and told me it was a common event."
"My doctor isn't married and as far as I know doesn't have children so I suppose he was talking about his patients," says Germaine. "I wondered how many women he sees each week, or even each day, whose only problem is a hassling adult kid. I wondered how many of the older women waiting outside in the surgery had the same problem. It was scary!"
"He decided I needed something to calm me down over the coming weeks," says Germaine, "and I suppose he was doing what any doctor could do under the circumstances but I wondered how many pills he hands out to women each week, or even each day, who have nothing physically wrong with them - who just need to be calmed down after a bad incident with a greedy adult son or daughter."
"I went home relieved to know I wasn't having a heart attack but I was very upset, nevertheless, to accept that I was going to need drugs to help me over this bad incident."
"I had raised my daughter never to take drugs - not to drink or smoke," sighs Germaine, "and as far as I know I'd been successful in keeping her clean. It would be ironic if I'm the one who becomes a drug addict! I can appreciate now those baleful jokes made by men about wives driving them to drink."
"I can now make a baleful joke about my kid driving me to drugs."
"I suppose I should have called an ambulance straight away," muses Germaine, "but because my husband would have got here quicker I telephoned him instead. He carries his phone with him, but I guess he couldn't answer, so I left an urgent message and then decided to drag myself off to see the local doctor. If I got into trouble on the way I could call out for help. It was better than sitting home alone in panic mode waiting for my husband to respond to my urgent message."
"For normal health problems - coughs and colds and broken bones - we drive to the big medical center in town ," says Germaine. "It's quick - you get to see the first available doctor; it has all X-Ray and lab services on tap for quick results; and it's open 24/7. But I didn't dare drive that day. I didn't have far to walk and besides which I prefer our local doctor for important health problems - he gives more personal care than the big medical centers."
"It was about 1pm when I arrived and his surgery was packed," relates Germaine. "I was told I'd have to wait at least an hour to see the doctor - it was actually an hour and a half - but I didn't mind. I was, after all, in the right place for medical assistance."
"I made small talk with the other patients - flipped through old magazines - watched a bit of television - went outside for some fresh air - visited the bathroom - and generally observed my fellow patients as they came and went."
"Strangely - or not so strangely considering that men get cared for by their wives or girlfriends - not one man was a patient in the surgery waiting room. They were all women - young women with children, young women in suits probably taking the afternoon off to visit the doctor - and older women like myself with the saddest faces of all."
"At my examination, all the vital signs were okay," says Germaine. "The doctor asked me what had caused the 'panic attack' and when I told him about the argument with my daughter he commiserated with me and told me it was a common event."
"My doctor isn't married and as far as I know doesn't have children so I suppose he was talking about his patients," says Germaine. "I wondered how many women he sees each week, or even each day, whose only problem is a hassling adult kid. I wondered how many of the older women waiting outside in the surgery had the same problem. It was scary!"
"He decided I needed something to calm me down over the coming weeks," says Germaine, "and I suppose he was doing what any doctor could do under the circumstances but I wondered how many pills he hands out to women each week, or even each day, who have nothing physically wrong with them - who just need to be calmed down after a bad incident with a greedy adult son or daughter."
"I went home relieved to know I wasn't having a heart attack but I was very upset, nevertheless, to accept that I was going to need drugs to help me over this bad incident."
"I had raised my daughter never to take drugs - not to drink or smoke," sighs Germaine, "and as far as I know I'd been successful in keeping her clean. It would be ironic if I'm the one who becomes a drug addict! I can appreciate now those baleful jokes made by men about wives driving them to drink."
"I can now make a baleful joke about my kid driving me to drugs."
Labels: adult kids, daughters, doctors, drugs, hassled moms, heart attack, mothers
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