What Do You Really Want?

A number of weeks ago I went to visit a homeopath/naturopath/counsellor/witch doctor who had been highly recommended to me.
I drove out to Ipswich on a particularly cold afternoon to meet with this lady in her home. On the way there I was full of optimism, feeling fuzzy and carefree. I was sure this lady held the secret key to solving all my infertility problems. (Picture Tom Cruise driving along singing "Cause I'm Freeeeeeeee! Free Falling!")
Obviously, I look nothing like Tom Cruise (not that I would want to) and my life is nothing like a movie - as I soon realised. Seems all that free falling had me come crashing down to Earth with a great big f-ing thud in no time flat.
We sat down and started chatting and she seemed to know alot about the adrenal and pituatary glands. Things were looking promising. I was ready for her to tell me what whacky potions I was going to have to start brewing and taking and I was all for it. Bring it on!
Then she said she wanted to ask me a question. Following is a transcript of the rest of the conversation. I will refer to the counsellor as NJ (for nut job).
NJ: What do you really want Tiffany?
T: A family
NJ: Come on, what do you really want?
T: Ok, well I guess I shouldn't be greedy. I would be really happy with one healthy child.
NJ: You seem like a smart girl, tell me what it is you really, really want.
T: I really, really want a baby (said with alot of passion, a nod of the head and a convincing smile).
NJ: Do you see what I'm getting at? There are actually five questions here Tiffany.
T: ??
NJ: WHAT do you really want?
What DO you really want?
What do YOU really want?
What do you REALLY want?
What do you really WANT?
T: Ah....I really want a baby. Really. I do.
NJ: (almost shouting now) Give me more than that! Dig deep! Expand on that. What do you really want? Come on!
At this point I scanned the room with my eyes to double check that I hadn't missed some sign that informed me that this woman was either hearing impaired or intellectually disabled.
NJ: Tiffany. What. Do. You. Really. Want?
T: Um, World Peace???
She could see that this little exercise wasn't working out. she asked how much time I had available and I said I was free all afternoon. We kept talking. She drew me pictures, showed me things written in books and pointed at posters that didn't make sense to me. She asked me little "pop quiz" questions to make sure I was listening and tsk, tsked the fact that my RE hadn't done more tests. I mostly gave her stunned rabbit-in-the-headlights looks.
FINALLY, she said that she was going to show me what I could do to get rid of excess adrenalin because stress was really bad for fertility. (Whoot! Here comes the crazy potion stuff! Eye of a monkey, some dragon's blood perhaps?)
Alas, it was not to be. She pulled out some junk mail catalogues from a box on the floor and told me to rip them up. Yes. I am 110% serious. A demonstration of what I should do ensued. She had loads of fun ripping them up and chanting "I'm angry that I can't have a baby. And I'm angry that my mum died. I'm angry that I feel this way. I'm angry that my medication makes me feel sick." The catalogue she handed me was sitting limp and lifeless in my lap. This combined with the rabbit looks were obviously a clear indication that I was not responding to treatment as expected. She asked if I was comfortable with the paper ripping. "No. Not really," was my response.
I started to give her the wrap up. It felt like I had been there for hours and I wanted to get out. I politely said I wouldn't make another appointment until I had had some more blood tests done. That was fine. She handed me the bill as I walked out. $360.00. THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DOLLARS!? Turns out I had been there for hours. Three hours.
She closed the door after me and as I walked down her driveway I had an epiphany. I realised I was absolutely and unreservedly, totally comfortable with ripping up paper.
I ripped up the bill. And left it on her driveway. Man, that lady sure knows her stuff! Ripping up that bill made me feel soooooooooo good!