Going to the Doctors

Before we home schooled going to the doctors was a fun kind of thing. All the kids would get to show off how big they were, it kind of organized our day and there were lollipops at the end. Over the last three years, ever since my oldest home schooled child turned four, it has become a more increasingly stressful time. Our pediatrician is a mother of four children around the same ages as my four. She works full time and I know from living in the same community as her that her children all attend public school full time. I have wondered whether just this knowledge alone has swayed my opinion about her. I have wondered whether my tolerance for people out there doing the main stream thing is going to decrease until I am no longer able to hang out with anyone, be alone in the world, just me and Gary.
Today Nora had her five year physical. I knew that there was something wrong with this visit just from the mere fact that I was actually losing sleep over the whole thing, obsessing over things I would say when she asked about Nora's reading or lack thereof. I drilled Nora, much to her and my own dismay to recount those important facts that I remember her asking Sadie at the five year old visit; where she lives, her phone number etc. And then I got mad at myself, wondering why am I doing this to her and to me. I'm sick of doubting myself, I'm sick of doubting her.
We went in this morning after spending the night up with vomiting Sadie. I was sure we were there for the long haul, only to go over to the hospital with Sadie needing her appendix out. She looked to me just like Molly at age 10 when she indeed did need her appendix out.
And then in comes the Doctor, greeting us, talking about Nora's growth and height and all that good stuff. We had no questions about Nora's health which I think always surprises her, like I am supposed to come with my list ready. I never have that list. I gave up on the list somewhere in my first child's first few months.
She looked at us concerned when Nora couldn't identify a letter C (shit, why can't she id these letters yet, why am I thinking this is my head again, like some crazy person, the monologue in my head goes on and on).
But I stopped her in her tracks, I said Nora is doing great, we are not worried about her educationally.
She came in to this crazy power struggle with two year old Jonah over picking up the toys before she gave him a lollipop. Man, no wonder he is struggling with her, I never want to do anything she says!
Then she looks at me and Gary and laughs off appendicitis, how could I even assume such a thing, so silly, so oh I don't know, parent like of us. She has the stomach flu and we should give her pedialyte and rest and hope to God we all don't get it.
I cursed her to Gary the whole ride home, promising that we would be in the ER tonight with that kid needing her appendix out, I mean look at us, we haven't gotten the stomach flu and we all live together and share everything, including much to that Doctors dismay our beds!!
Then we got home and both threw up. Damn that woman when she is right.
I need to get a new doctor.
I need to feel supported by the other caretakers in my life.
I need to give up the endless struggle that I feed off of trying to swim in the river called main stream.
We do things differently and that is OK.