With a beaming smile, the doctor leaned toward Reagan as I introduced her.
“Reagan!” she exclaimed, and then leaned closer to her, as though having a chummy conversation. “Or is it Reegan?” she asked, completely ignoring that I had just pronounced it for her. “It’s a good name either way. My office is down this way, we’ll just wait for these people to clear out.” She had big smiles for Reagan, totally ignored my other daughter, and had a flat aspect toward me.
And that’s when I asked if I could speak to her for just a minute.
We stepped into the hall and her demeanor changed to strictly business. And mine probably did, too.
“With Reagan’s attachment issues, her behavior at home will be much better if you are very matter of fact, professionally distant, and straightforward,” I said.
“Yes, you already told me that when we spoke on the phone.” I also pronounced her name several times, but you weren’t paying attention about that, either.
Since the information hadn’t penetrated, I tried to explain. “It’s important that you don’t single her out for extra attention, being really smiley, engaging, and encouraging.” I don’t think she liked that because her expression became even colder.
“You need to let me do my job.”
No, I don’t think I will, I thought.
But what I said was, “I need to do my job too, and my job is to be her mother. And how you treat her now will affect how she behaves over the next couple of weeks, which will impact our entire family.”
“Part of my job is to build rapport with Reagan--” she began, and I stopped her right there. No, no, and no. Been there, done that, cleaned the poop afterwards. Not happening.
“No. She needs to maintain rapport with her family, and that won’t happen if she is building it with strange adults,” I interrupted, eyebrows up, no blinking. I think we both had the same expression, and there was a tense standoff for a few seconds.
“Maybe there’s another psychologist who can do this with her over Zoom,” she finally conceded. “A male doctor...who might be more appropriate since you are so concerned about her interactions. Let me contact Dr. So-and-so, give me just one minute.”
Great, awesome. I had already had a 40-minute conversation with this lady, much of which was about Reagan’s attachment and other special needs, and never once did she mention Zoom was an option. It would’ve saved the restructuring of our day, the drive into town, the gas expense, and the anxiety for Reagan. You’d think someone who specializes in special needs and is there to test a child for special needs would actually take those special needs into consideration. It doesn’t seem like that’s asking too much.
But, hey, then I wouldn’t have had all this marvelous writing material to share with you.
* pauses here to slam forehead on desk repeatedly *
Here’s the victory, though: Ten years ago I wouldn’t have had the moxie to stand up to this kind of arrogance and presumption. I didn’t know how to articulate what was really going on, or how to spot the red flags of a professional who should not be working with my kid. I would not have been able to identify within the first 30 seconds of interaction that, regardless of her assurances over the phone, it was clear she had no personal experience with attachment issues beyond a cursory academic knowledge.
Those weren’t fun lessons to learn, but they were useful. Because in case you’re wondering what the big deal was in that initial 30-second encounter, here’s what happened: A doctor who claimed to be familiar with attachment challenges acted toward my daughter in ways that someone truly knowledgeable about attachment issues would never do. Not only that, but when I tried to talk to her about it, she was arrogant, unteachable, and disrespectful. And Reagan was supposed to be alone with this person for at least forty minutes.
A person who understands attachment issues and the fallout that can occur from what would normally be just deemed friendly interaction would never engage a kid with attachment issues in a confidential, overfamiliar way. They would also not ignore the parent and then allude that that parent doesn’t know what they’re doing over even the simplest things. Asking “Or is it Reegan?” after I told the doctor Reagan’s name not only dismissed me, but also (if Reagan was cognizant enough to understand it) would give her the message that even the way her mother says her name might not be accurate, and should be questioned.
It’s that fast.
Here’s the deal: If an adult is friendlier with your child than they are with you, that is a red flag, and probably a deal breaker.
We’ve had several great experiences with professionals. Even doctors. (smile) The ones who are willing to listen to the parent, understand their concerns and experiences, and learn enough to modify their approach (because with attachment issues, the approach must be modified) are the ones who have helped us maintain stability and continue leading our special needs kids toward healing, rather than send them spiraling into regression.
You don’t treat a child with cancer the same way you treat a child with a cold – but if a professional is unwilling to adjust their treatment when it is necessary for your family (whether it’s because of attachment issues or anything else) that professional is going to do more harm than good, and they need to be told “No.” They don’t like that because they’re not used to hearing it, but many of them need to hear it more often. And we as parents need to be ready to say it.
But it’s hard. I don’t like confrontation, I don’t like rescheduling things, I don’t like knowing that this task isn’t finished and still has to be dealt with down the road.
Saying no when we know it’s needed is one of those disciplines that pays dividends in the long run, though. Saying yes in this situation could have led to weeks of fallout for our family and huge regression for Reagan, not to mention how it would’ve eaten at me emotionally to know that I hadn’t had the guts to stand up for our daughter and our family. (Plus, I would’ve missed out on the delightful experience of putting a presumptuous PhD. in her place – and in spite of my inner fury, that was worth the price of admission.)
Here’s a hard truth, and I want you to hear it in the gentlest tone possible: If we cannot say no when we feel the Holy Spirit prompting us to do it, we have an even bigger problem because we are elevating this other person to an authority over God. We cannot worship God while caving to others just because we don’t want to rock the boat.
We cannot say yes to God if we are unwilling to say no to others when He tells us to.
How confrontational should we be, though? How do we keep ourselves from stepping over the line, from moving from Jesus righteously wielding the whip in the temple to the disciples vengefully asking if they should call fire down on the unsuspecting?
Only by abiding. (This is my cheat answer for everything, you know.)
In the morning, I am learning to ask the Holy Spirit to lead me through the day, to give me something to obey Him in. I’ve noticed that when I do this, it keeps me out of a lot of trouble.
And that’s a good thing, because before we left the school that day I decided to scan the bookshelves real quick to see if I could redeem the trip into town for some purpose. The girls were at a table with books of their own, and from fifteen feet away, I recognized the voice that had been so dripping with condescension toward me say in stage whisper with an audible smile, “You girls doing okay? That’s great!”
I turned and saw the doctor walk away from my girls and into the office she called hers – the one with someone else’s name on the door that she uses once a month, that is.
You know by now that someone who truly understands attachment issues would also never engage a kid with those issues in unnecessary, friendly conversation. Now, it wouldn’t have been a big deal if any of the other staffers were just being friendly; most of them don’t know my kids and most have no clue about attachment issues. Thankfully, we are past the days when Andrey and Reagan can’t even handle a friendly greeting, which is why I left the girls at the table.
But for a doctor who claims to be proficient in that area, it’s just more fuel for the fire.
And, ohhhhhh was I fired up.
I got the girls out of the office and into to the car, and sat for a minute trying to weigh whether or not I should explain how inappropriate this entire experience was. How rude she had been. How attachment issues really work. But would it accomplish anything constructive? Or would I just be letting off steam, only to create a bigger issue and feel even worse about it later?
So I prayed. And the Lord said no.
No, because you can’t teach someone who already thinks they know everything. No, because she has no clue how condescending and supercilious she sounds; she’s probably been speaking that way to people for forty years and does it out of habit. No, because she doesn’t respect parents anyway (she would only refer to me as “mom” instead of by my name when we spoke with the special ed teacher) and she needs someone higher to hold her feet to the fire.
Plus, I still have to deal with her colleague, and it didn’t seem to be a good strategy to give her reason to tell him that Reagan’s mom is a crazy woman whose eyes shoot fire and appears to swear in tongues when she’s angry.
So I stayed in the car and drove away. God is higher; He brings conviction and correction to the hearts we can’t reach. And often we need to move out of the way for Him to do it.
And that’s what forgiveness is. Not letting the other person off the hook or saying that what they did was okay, but forgiveness is not demanding to have your own say in how their correction comes. It’s saying, I also have needed forgiveness. I will not require payment for what you owe me.
But he was unwilling, and went and threw him in prison until he would pay back what was owed. So when his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were deeply grieved and came and reported to their master all that had happened. Then summoning him, his master said to him, ‘You wicked slave, I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not also have had mercy on your fellow slave, in the same way that I had mercy on you?’
– Matthew 18:30-33
Our Yes to Him has a flip side: He can say no to us, and we must say no to others when He tells us to.
We acknowledge His authority as we obey, but we also walk in authority by having discerning, powerful boundaries that do not allow others to trample over what (and who) He has given us to protect. We are stewards of the King, appointed to keep, guard, defend, preserve, and care for the mission He’s given us. Every time we say yes to Him, He helps us do it better.
Praying for you,
Shannon
P.S. Links this month:
Some of you are going to really like this: We now have a wholesale option for large purchases. Buy any fifteen books (ten if you’re a premium subscriber) and get 40% off your entire order. Details here.
Are you looking for history and civics books for your kids for the next school year, or just for your library? We’ve been reading The Tuttle Twins books and loving them – they explain Big Governmental Concepts in a way that’s understandable for kids and constitutionally accurate. Huge win. And...they now have board books, too.
For the grieving: This is the best sermon on mourning and loss I’ve ever heard, by Bill Johnson three days after his wife, Beni, died of cancer. Bring your tissues and a notebook.
Sleep issues, struggling with insomnia? I struggled with insomnia for years, and wish I had this brilliant teacher to learn from at the time. This is Barbara O’Neill and she’s fantastic — an Australian naturopath and an amazing teacher. Lots of videos to learn from.
Can you regrow/remineralize teeth? Yes, sometimes. There’s good news here!
Upside Down on audio is complete! The first three segments are free for everyone. Listen here.
Gaining Ground is starting a new book soon! Sense and Sensibility starts August 8th and we’ll be reading it for 8 weeks. Join us for discussion in our Telegram group here, and if you’re more ambitious and writerly, you can register for the writing portion here.
Here are this month’s podcasts (and the videos are linked in each of these if that’s what you prefer): God’s Word never says “blah, blah, blah,” How we tell if doors are opening or closing, and You are being protected and equipped.
How do you prepare for food shortages, disasters, crazy weather, the zombie apocalypse (or whatever) with seven kids in tow, in Alaska? Vin has done the research...and we’re still not sure if that chicken is a rooster or a hen. Here you go.