Dear Dr. Jerk,
Mamas know. Mamas know when their babies are sick, and mamas know how their children react to pain. Do not roll your eyes when my child who has sensory integration issues complains that you are pressing too hard, nor may you prove some sort of point by pressing twice as hard on the other side (and then act surprised when he screams).
Do not smirk or make condescending remarks like, “Oh, REALLY?” when I try to explain to you that his assessment of pain being a “2” on a scale from 1 to 10 means absolutely nothing on account of the aforementioned sensory disorder, as well as a general propensity to either downplay or not recognize physical discomfort. I know he is sick because I am his MOTHER and I can TELL. Do you really think I enjoy spending hours waiting around at your office so much that I would do it just for kicks?
Mamas know that while a fever is a good indicator of illness, the lack of a fever in a kid who has been something of a medical mystery nearly from birth does not indicate NO illness. Mamas consider “paleness,” “listlessness,” and “complaints of fatigue” pretty damn valid indicators of something wrong in a child who has more than once begged to go to school with a double ear infection. (That, by the way, happened at your office not too long ago, so you should remember it.)
Mamas do not appreciate being patronized, overlooked, and generally treated like morons.
Mamas turn into the stereotypical mother bears because of supposed “caretakers” who brush them aside as if their impressions are incidental, rather than central, to the matter at hand. When you live with my kid for nearly ten years and want to tell me you know him better than I do, FEEL FREE. Until then, may I cordially suggest you shut up and listen to me?
And when said child turns out to have both a sinus infection and an ear infection, take heed on how to improve your reaction:
This time (wrong):
“Well, how about that!”
Next time (right):
“You were absolutely right. I was wrong. My ego overcame my common sense, and I apologize. Also, I have a small penis.”
I think you’ll find this modified approach will inspire less rage in the mothers who’ve just spent two hours in your waiting room trying to keep a miserable child entertained.
I hope this clarifies matters.
Thanks for the antibiotics. Sorry about your dick.