Looking for Him

I’m looking for a new doctor.

I’m frustrated because if I don’t find one soon, I’ll probably just brush it to the side and I really need to go. Truthfully, the last time I’ve seen a doctor, for ME, was when I had my baby 3 and a half years ago. I never even went back for my 6 week check-up after I had my son.

It’s not that I don’t like doctors. I just need a certain type of doctor. It can not be a man simply because I don’t believe a man can be sensitive enough with me and treat me with respect. I’ve had interactions with male doctors before and the first one, though highly recommended didn’t even bother to TRY to pronounce my first name.

I mean, it’s different, but it’s not that hard.

After I had my first son, I took him to get circumcised when he was 6 days old. The doctor was a man. He walked into the room with barely a hello and asked, “How old is he?” without even looking me in the face.

10 minutes after the procedure began the nurse called me back in from the waiting room. The doctor had cut the wrong way on my baby and he needed to be taken to the emergency room. You know I looked all over for that doctor but I couldn’t find him. We rode to the emergency room in an ambulance, me and my brand new baby. He wasn’t even crying, but I was.

When we got to the emergency room the emergency room doctor came in and looked at my son. Then he left and came back again. He tried to explain to me how to take care of his wound when I got home but when he opened the bandage and I saw all of that blood gushing out I flipped the hell out! I was crying and repeating, “I can’t do it. I can’t do it. My baby!”

The white male doctor looked squarely at me and said, “If you can’t take care of your child, you shouldn’t have had him.” He then left the room.

Yeah, that’s how they do you.

I have a couple more horror stories involving male doctors but I don’t even need to go there. I am a firm believer that no man will touch me again.

Damn. I hate that my life ended up this way. I hate that every man that I ever tried to trust and show some admiration or appreciation for made it his mission to control or diminish my spirit.

Or maybe I am so desperate to trust a man that I give too much, allowing the man to take on a role as my favored leader and I pledge strict obedience.

I say I don’t want a man to control me but secretly I do.

I want a man to take the reigns so that I can relax. I want him to decide what’s for dinner. I want him to drive. I want him to make the decisions. I want him to push me toward excellence and applaud my efforts and point out my inconsistencies. I want to make him proud of me. I want to be the woman he shows off and brags about and daydreams about. I want to be protected from all of the other mean men in the world, the shady car repair people and the electronics salesman who try to take advantage of you. I want to walk hand in hand and sit in the sand and laugh.I want someone to look up to.

I want…I want…

A father.