I’ve had a lovely vacation so far. Away from my phone, the internet, all of it. Just enjoying the company of family.
Until I spoke with my parents.
My aunt has been going through a lot physically. She may end up losing her eye because of something that happened during her latest eye surgery. I am trying to help her, finding out all the best doctors , etc. and helping her write a letter to this one top eye specialist my dad recommended.
When I called my parents to find out the name of this doctor, rather than my parents expressing sympathy and concern, or gratitude for my help, they start in about how they’ve been helping her all along, how I don’t know the whole story (which I do), how my aunt has been telling them contradictory things ( do you blame her? she’s hardly been able to see out if her eye for months now, and currently can’t see out of it at all. I might get a little mixed up if I were her!), how my aunts doctor – the one who botched the surgery – is one of the best (which I did my research and there is actually very little information available about him online), how I can’t trust said research since “you can’t believe everything you find on the internet.” I could feel myself growing angrier by the second. I finally and exasperatingly said, “Can you tell me what the harm is in her getting a second opinion? And by one of the worlds most renowned optomologists?” They said, no you are right, and backed off. Then my dad said, “Well, bless your heart for wanting to help.”
Why would I possibly not want to help? How could anyone not want to help? She is my aunt after all!! And why shouldn’t my family – and I mean all my family – rally around her and try to support her in every way we can?! I’m not putting any sort of huge burden on myself. I simply am trying to help in whatever way I can. I couldn’t bear the thought of her losing her eye. She is such a vivacious and active person. My parents were acting like it isn’t our job to involve ourselves in her affairs, and that her doctor is a great doctor. Yeah? According to who. According to him! Ugh.
Sorry this is a rant, but I’m just so angry and frustrated right now. I swear, sometimes I just hate my parents. Hate them. Where is the care and concern that you would expect? They were both being just so incredibly negative and pessimistic and unable to understand why I was doing what I am doing. What I fail to understand is, how could someone not do what I am doing? Isn’t that part and parcel of caring?
Sometimes I wish I was from another family. I really do. I sometimes wonder what kind of person I would be (happy perhaps?) if my aunt had raised me and not my own parents. But perhaps the grass is always greener, huh?