Invisisibility by Jennifer Patel
I’ve written before about my theories on how Dawkters choose their spouses. They look for capable, intuitive folks who can seamlessly pick up the slack and cover all the bases. But there is a point where being (forgive me) “the woman behind the man” gets really, really old.
We’ve had a lot of chatter on the boards lately about feeling “invisible” to outsiders. Once others learn that we’ve landed the golden “DOCTOR” as a spouse, our work, interests … basically our lives become beside the point. “You’re so lucky!” or “It must be nice” or, my personal favorite “It will all be worth it in the end.” are refrains we’ve all heard over and over again. Usually I chalk this up to ignorance. If all you’ve seen is the Hollywood version of being married to a doctor, then you’re bound to have misperceptions. My neighbors are all learning, though. They never see my husband’s car here, and I pay the 12-year old neighbor to handle most things my husband would do for us.
I have a harder time dealing with it when the invisibility happens within the marriage. My husband is so used to me handling all of the family details that he never thinks twice about his plans, often clueing me in at the last minute. Calendar? What calendar? Why would he bother to write his events or commitments on our family calendar? In his mind all he needs to do is tell me the morning of (or, if I’m really lucky, the night before) and he’s done his part. And it has taken a lot of work from me to get him this far.
It’s always strange for me to hear people mention conversations they’ve had with their spouse mid-day. As in “My husband called to see what we were doing.” or “I just got off the phone with my husband.” My husband doesn’t call. I know this is not purely a medical marriage thing. I know medical spouses who are very good about calling. Truth be told, I’m not a “check in” kind of girl. A daily “what are you and the kids up too?” would grate on my nerves.
What does bother me is when he’s out of town, or we’re out of town, and he doesn’t call to see that everyone is okay — or to talk with the kids. He writes it off. “I know you’ve got it handled. I don’t want to bother you. I don’t want to get the kids upset.” Very considerate. But let me tell you: he’s called more in the past two days while waiting for his new laptop to be delivered than he has in the past month. Today he even called to let me know he was heading from one office to another, just in case the laptop was delivered. I pointed out to him that he makes this journey daily, yet doesn’t call to let me know where he’ll be in case one of the children is injured, and gee, do you see why this might be insulting?? And while I said I realize this isn’t purely a medical marriage issue, I choose to believe its part of the intrinsic narcissistic character that dawkters seem to have. Otherwise my husband is just self-centered – right?
Match lists. Fellowship interviews. Specialty choices. Job offers. These are all areas where the non-medical spouse can become “invisible” if we’re not careful. It’s all about their career, their opportunities. Hazard, Kentucky? My husband was honestly considering an offer from a hospital (let’s be serious … “the” hospital) in Hazard, Kentucky, but for me stomping my foot down and reminding him about our children’s education.
“I’m sure there are private schools, Jenn.” he says, optimistically.
“What? The Academy of Hazard? I don’t think so.”
We’ve got trailing spouse lawyers who have to continue taking Bar Exams as training takes their family from state to state. We’ve got teachers and nurses who need to keep getting licensed as they relocate for the “best program”. And we’ve got young families who move thousands of miles away from their extended family, help, support, lifelong friends … all to feed the Medical Beast.
When I was a kid I thought invisibility would be cool — but it’s really not.
