The Magical Mystery Medical Tour

(With my sincerest apologies to the Beatles)

Last week, both Raphaela and I went to our family doctor, and both of us received anti-biotics.  Technically, I went to the doctor twice last week.

Tonight, in an effort to rule out any issues that might be interfering with Raphaela's growth, we are going to the Optometrist, to get Raphaela's vision checked;  for no reason other than prevention, and because sometimes I see her reading books and holding the text close to her face.

We have a follow-up appointment with our GP at the end of this week, and next week, I have my semi-annual dental visit, and Raphaela has a follow-up appointment with the Physical Therapist.

Somehow, in all this, the head nursery teacher has found it appropriate to accuse me of being a "neglectful mother" who does not take care of my child's most basic needs.  Raphaela's allergic cough, despite many assurances from me and our physician that it is not dangerous to the other children, bothers her, and today she called in the middle of the work day essentially to threaten me:  "I would have sent her home today with that cough, and I am not allowing her to attend Gan tomorrow.  What kind of mother hears her child suffering and does nothing?"  (Apparently she is talking about me.)

Interesting how the Head Nursery teacher's entire approach toward me and my daughter changed when she understood that Raphaela would not be returning to this Gan next year.  All of a sudden, my daughter's toilet training within the framework of the group could be "put off to a more convenient time for her."  When the class bully scratched her face and hit her, in front of me, it was "not important" who did it, and I was told that Raphaela's word could not be trusted.  And now I neglect my daughter. 

Where is she when I lose sleep because I wait to hear my daughter breathing?  Where is she when I find the time in between the rest of my life as a single parent and my work to go from doctor to doctor?  Was she with me when I took her to the emergency room on Shavuot, and was told that nothing could be done except wait a few days?

After her disturbing phone call, and given her recent obvious turnaround in her treatment of Raphaela and me, her mother, I don't know whether to be more angry or concerned.  A part of me feels like I only have to ride out this storm until August,  and I am at the very least grateful that she does not spend all day with my child.  But right now, if I saw this woman, I think I would punch her.  Best to avoid the Head Nursery teacher and follow my parents' advice, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Then again, I have yet to hear the advice, "Don't blog angry..."