The Doctors Office

A funny thing happened today, as I sat in the doctor's office. He asked me where my accent was from. I answered my template answer:

"I was born Puerto Rico, my parents are Cuban."

I always clarify, because saying I'm Puerto Rican is not entirely true, and I am very proud of my Cuban heritage.

Immediately, the inevitable happened. A comment. The doctor then said that we (the USA) should normalize relations with Cuba and what where my thoughts or my parents thoughts about that. He of course mentioned the infamous and notorious Miami Cubans, as being against normalizing relations with the Bearded Stooge.

I felt my blood boil and my pressure rise. Calm down, I told myself. No rabid foaming mouth impression will solve this, you need to do this cool as a cucumber. This was it. My big moment. My moment to educate someone as best I could in the 2 minutes I would have available.

"The problem doctor, is that no one can forgive the assassinations of their families, the killings, the persecution and the separation. These are political exiles, refugees."

"I had no idea things had been that bad" he replied. I know I thought, that's why we exist.

"For example" I pressed on, wearing out my welcome"people don't have access to the Internet, and the few that do have sites blocked."

"I never thought he was as bad as some of the others"

"Yes, and for him it's been easier because it's an island"

And that is as far as I got folks. By that last comment he was already writing my prescription, and his body language alerted me he was uncomfortable.

But I got through. Little by little, one person at a time.