Where is the line between bitch and assertive?
Today, I was told that I had to tread lightly in dealing with an upcoming surgery my daughter’s supposed to have, otherwise I’d become known as one of “those” parents.
I told that person I didn’t give a shit.
And, for the first time in my life, I didn’t. Now, you have to know that I wholeheartedly used to be the ‘nice’ one when dealing with hosptial stuff for my daughter. The one who ‘understood’ when things didn’t get done, the one who ‘sympathized’ with people’s workloads. And, in most cases, I still am patient when circumstances allow it. Hey – I don’t think I’d be a writer if, to some degree, I didn’t have a certain amount of patience, fortitude and an ability to deal with pain 🙂
I stopped being nice when my daughter’s life was at stake.
I want to be known as one of “those” parents IF it means that
A) I could get her surgery scheduled
B) I could get the coordinator of the program to send the information to the insurance company for preapproval
C) I could get someone to call me back when they say they’re going to call me back
So, no, I don’t care if I’m classified as the bitch parent, because honestly, when I was classfied as the ‘nice’ parent, nothing got done either. I am professional, my complaints are legitimate and I am very willing to help move this process along in any way that I can. If that qualifies me as one of “those” parents, I am proud to be in their company. Hell, I’ll wear it on a t-shirt.
But I also have an awful headache. And I’m wondering if my theme song, at least for today, should be Meredith Brooks’ I’m a Bitch.
At least I didn’t get the poison ivy. But this whole thing is ruining my writing karma. Maybe if I told the hospital that I was Hades, they’d realize that I have powers they don’t want to mess with.