Being assertive is a challenge for me, but apparently not for my appendix, which choose Memorial Day to demand its freedom. That evening, I happily complied, and a surgeon put my appendix, and me, out of our misery.
(BTW, I’m perfectly happy without that little wormlike appendage to my colon. I’ve recovered quickly, thanks in part to the many doctors over the last century who contributed to the development of laparoscopic procedures.)
The day after my surgery, an interesting dilemma presented itself–to defend myself, and risk offending my surgeon, or to stay quiet. I chose a middle ground, and I’d love to know what you would have done.
To be assertive may risk causing offense.
In my memoir, which is written and soon to be agent-ready, I explore the roots, manifestation, and consequences of my excessive agreeableness. I own the sad truth that my inability to stand up for myself made it difficult to stand up for my son Matthew during his long rumble with a childhood brain tumor.
For many years, I was well aware of my reticence toward speaking up. There were times I tried to be assertive, but mostly I stayed in my comfort zone where others’ needs took priority over mine.
Being assertive is outside my comfort zone.
But with my uncomfortable truth ready to be laid bare to the world on the pages of my memoir, I’ve been making a concerted effort to be stronger, more assertive, to speak my truth.
Part of what makes it hard for me to speak openly is my fear that I’ll offend someone. That’s what happened with my surgeon.
The morning after my appendectomy, the diminutive man with thinning hair, square glasses, and nutmeg skin stopped in to check on me, and give me my discharge instructions. In a thick accent, he sped through the dos and don’ts. I caught a few snippets–showering was OK, swimming was not, no lifting, call his office if I had any problems.
“So I don’t need to schedule a follow-up appointment with you?” I asked when he finished.
“Yes, you do!” he said with a laugh, “I just told you that.” His laugh didn’t hide his derisive tone.
What I wanted to say, also with a laugh, was, Well, you have a very heavy accent and you talk too fast, so don’t blame me.
But that seemed rude. I was afraid I might offend him. I didn’t want to sound prejudiced.
So what I said, with a smile, was, “Well, you gave me a lot of information, and I’m just trying to take it all in.”
This was growth for me. In the past, I might have said, I’m sorry, I must have missed that. Or I might have been too embarrassed to say anything.
I took a step in the right direction by not taking the blame, and not feeling the shame. But I regret not being more assertive, and I don’t know how I could have responded without offending the person who had held my life–or at least the life of my inflamed appendix–in his hands.
I regret not being more assertive.
The dilemma is knowing what to do when you want to stand up for yourself, but you don’t want to offend someone in a way that is antithetical to your beliefs.
Since I’m learning to navigate these new waters of assertiveness, I’ll ask you–
What would you have done?