The Power of Words.

I had a crappy day today, mostly because of what I'm calling a "hate mail" email that I received from a patient whose referral got messed up for a variety of reasons.  I think I'm one of the reasons that our referrals office got its wires crossed--I was late in completing the visit note, and I am guessing that when they went to process the referral through insurance the day before I was able to complete the note, they couldn't send the necessary documentation to the insurance company and so set the referral aside for later... as in a month and a half later.  Yikes.  I think I'd be upset, too.

Last week, on a Friday night just before going out sans kiddos for a birthday celebration (Happy Birthday, Krista!!  She never gets tired of birthdays.), I checked my email.  Late Friday afternoon one of our administrative assistants had sent out a summative form of comments and evaluations of my performance as a supervising/teaching attending.  All of the comments were positive, except one.  My favorite was the use of the descriptor "sagacious."  These are anonymous compliments, so I can't turn around and compliment the reviewer for such a fabulous use of an SAT word.  I'm kidding--especially given that I focused in on the one negative comment (and it wasn't all that negative).  Basically, the person said they "used to" like working with me, but since I've been back from maternity leave something's been missing, and that something is positive feedback.

Most of the time I feel like I'm doing okay striking a (tenuous) home-work balance.  This week I also had one of my beloved patients reschedule as I was running late (again) and she couldn't wait.  We both know I will find time to reschedule her, and she's been great in putting up with my absentmindedness since coming back from maternity leave.  Most of my patients are cutting me slack because they know that I'm worth it to them.  I guess the hate-mailer wasn't impressed at our initial visit--our only one.  Either that or maybe I'm just not doing as well as I thought.  To sum up the feedback that I've received in the past two weeks, I can't see my patients in a timely manner, I can't complete charts on time, and I'm a bitch to the residents.

Praise and criticism, even when constructive, are tricky things.  Apparently a person needs to hear four to five positive things to "undo" one negative piece of feedback.  Maybe I just need to change my self-talk to change my ratio, you know, beef myself up.  Or I could just tell everyone about the praise Elena's lunches received at our otherwise useless parent/teacher conference.  At least I'm doing one thing right in life.

The other area where I've been keyed into words is in reading to Elena.  Kids' books are weird, especially those targeted towards girls.  A few friends have been posting on Facebook about the physical attributes of characters and gender-driven plot lines of children's movies, and what the effect might be on the younger members of our society.  We've got our own antiquated (or is it?) relic of a book hanging around, and Elena LOVES it.  Nurse Nancy is about a girl who plays with dolls in her games of mother, teacher, and--wait for it....Nancy's favorite game--nurse.  Her brothers are "too busy playing big boy games" to hang with Nancy while she wears her cute little nurse outfit and hands out candy pills to her dolls, but when those mischievous boys hit a bees nest and all hell breaks loose, it's Nurse Nancy's calm and focus that not only soothes her brother's cut but leads to an afternoon of playing ambulance/hospital.  One of her brothers offers to be the ambulance driver, and the other offers to be the doctor.  They pull Nurse Nancy along to the "emergencies" in the wagon.  Nancy gets a special hug from her mother and "even an extra cookie" for her care of her patients.

Now.  Elena "read" the book to my mother this weekend, and my mom lit up with recognition.  I understand that gender roles were defined and the norm and such during my mother's childhood, but what I take issue with is my daughter correcting me when I try to change the story.

If I change the words to her brothers being too busy playing "big kid games" she says, "No, Mommy!! It's 'big BOY games'."  We've had a few discussions about why I refuse to say this anymore, and they all center around the fact that girls can do anything boys can do, and can play any games they want.  Hence, to be more inclusive, I will only refer to the games her brothers play as belonging to the gender neutral "kid".  She still corrects me, but at least I'm getting less resistance.  LESS RESISTANCE!!  She's not even three years old, and already, she thinks that there are games that belong to only boys!

I also leave out the part about Nancy getting an extra cookie.  You do not reward kindness or achievement with cookies.  Period.  Hugs are enough.

Elena also corrects me if I just have Dan tag along.  "No, Mommy.  '"I'll be the doctor," cried Dan.'"  While I love that she includes the action that Dan was taking to express himself, the doctor in me is really annoyed with Dan for just all of a sudden deciding that since his baseball days are over he can jet in and be the doctor while Nancy, who set up the doll hospital herself and has been running things since its inception, is swept aside, or at least swept into the wagon where she sits like a good little demure nurse.  Since we have a number of nurses in our families and Elena has first hand knowledge of a female physician, I am not that perturbed at Nancy being a nurse.  But Dan can shove it--it was Nancy washing out Billy's cut and putting the bandaid on when things got crazy.

Anyway, like I said, I had a crappy day and words are powerful things.  Be careful out there with how you use them.