Monday, September 12, 2016

Anxiety and a Telephone Walked Into a Bar...

I don't like making phone calls.  I don't like thinking about making phone calls.  I don't like answering the phone, listening to my voicemail, or calling people back.  There are only a handful of people on this planet that I will regularly answer the phone for -- my husband, my sisters, my mom, and my friend, Kristin.  If you are not one of those people and you are trying to get ahold of me, I'm sorry, I'm hiding in my bed recovering from the shock of your calling me WITHOUT ANY WARNING and scaring the bejeebers out of me.

It's not that I'm a wimp.  It's just that only hateful, horrible people still use phone calls to communicate.  (Kidding!  Kidding!  Sort of...)

So you can imagine how being a parent and calling doctors and dentists and schools because my kids "can't do it themselves" (gosh, Jonathan, you're 19 months old!  Make your own appointment!) gives me anxiety comparable to what a normal person might experience if they were about to have their head chopped off with a sword.  Because of that, I only make these phone calls when I really need to.  The problem is, I never know when I really need to.

For example:

Once Michael was running a fever on and off and complaining about his throat hurting for several days.  I called the doctor and arrived for the appointment, whereupon Michael's symptoms magically disappeared as soon as we stepped over the threshold of the waiting room and I got to sit there feeling stupid while the doctor looked him over and pronounced him "perfectly fine."

The next time Michael had similar symptoms I thought, it's not that bad.  I don't need to call the doctor.  And then he developed a mysterious rash all over his body, so I made an appointment and the doctor said, "He has scarlet fever!  Why didn't you bring him in three days ago??"

Sigh.

But seriously, you send your kid to school with an upset stomach and he vomits all over his desk.  You keep the same kid home and he's bouncing off the walls three minutes after the tardy bell rings.  No matter what, there will be phone calls.  And no matter what, you'll be wrong.

Which is why I think the entire world should operate solely by text and email.  Communication in loco phonentis.  Who's with me?

If you're with me, please send me a text.

Only hateful people make phone calls.

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