Who knows what’s best for my health? Me (who has no medical training whatsoever) or, a licensed medical professional?
Today, on Working Mommy Wednesday, we’re talking about something we’re bad at. You guessed it, I’m bad at following doctor’s orders. Let’s just say I’m a bit stubborn.
For starters, I hate going to the doctor. I hate the sight of blood, and most medication makes me vomit. One of the reasons I respect those who choose the medical profession? I could never do it.
And I do mean never.
For the record, hospitals creep me out. They’re too sterile. Too lifeless. Too depressing. Which is why I tried to break out early when I had my third-born, Abby. (The nurse was ready to call security.) Which is why I never finish my prescription medicine. (Who needs drugs when you’re feeling better?) Which is why I tend to self-diagnose every aliment on the internet. (Who needs the hassle of an office visit when you have WebMD?)
I also can’t stand waiting rooms. The doctors are always running late, and someone always tries to make me turn off my cell phone. Or, worse – I’m forced to stop tweeting because some nurse thinks the internet connection will interfere with the x-ray machine.
But, wait. Before you think I’m a terrible mother, you should know one thing. When it comes to my children, I usually break my own rules. I rush my kids to the doctor’s office for every sniffle, we finish all the medicine, and I even turn off my cell phone in the waiting room. (Ok, not always, but I definitely turn it off if there’s an x-ray machine in plain view.)
I’m even known to follow doctor’s orders. Unless of course my motherly instincts are telling me to instead follow my gut.
Didn’t God give us instincts for a reason?