I have decided that my Mom will be my secret weapon.
I am going to start taking her to ALL my doctor visits.
My Mom and Dad have accompanied me to most of my appointments for the last six years. As time goes on, the visits get more routine and they become more tired, I chose to go alone. Asking my Caveman to go with me elicits moaning, grunting and minor ass scratching. Honestly, I mostly ask him to get a kick out of his responses. It’s the dance we do. I ask, he grumbles, he gives in saying “I will do what I need to do”. I say, “nah, I can go alone”. It’s our cha-cha.
But back to my secret weapon, my MOM.
I need to be more demanding for answers about this sucky disease. Combine my brilliant ability to be slightly aggressive with the fact that I am holding these doctors accountable for my care, and you can see why I need a secret weapon.
Enter, my Mom, sweet, elderly, battling health issues herself and sees most of the same docs I do. With her beside me, how could the docs possibly be offended by my near ninja tactics to get the answers I seek? When she is telling me to ‘shush’ when I cross a line or she tries to explain my behavior away, how could they hold it against me? As if I need excuses after six years on prednisone.
She is the ultimate good cop to my bad cop. She has always been a formidable force and can easily fool a doctor with her calm demeanor, but when she wants something, she is like a dog with a bone.
I don’t know which one the docs should be more afraid of, the bad cop or the good cop. Secret Weapon indeed…