Last week, I briefly
mentioned my experience with the sucky-pants, worst doctor in the history of
ever. You may have wondered what I was talking about. Or maybe you didn’t, but
either way, I am going to tell you more about that whack-job. The following is a
rant I posted to Facebook back in January after coming home from Thumper’s
sixteen month check up. I apologize in advance for all the run-on sentences,
comma splices and caps lock but I was very angry at the time. You might find
that picturing me telling this story while gesturing madly and talking extremely
fast without taking any breaths will help you to have a better understanding of
how I was feeling.
My Super Bad Morning and How I Really Feel About It
So this morning, I’m running late for Thumper’s doctor’s appointment. In
order to keep her happy during the car ride over, in hopes of her good mood
carrying on while we visit the doctor, I give her a soother. As I breathlessly
run toward the office door with Thumper hanging on my hip, an older gentlemen
holds it open for me. I think to myself, ‘Wow, what a nice gesture.’ Then the old
man ruins our nice little moment by looking at the soother in Thumper’s mouth
and saying, “Get that thing out of her mouth!” I’m in such a rush that I don’t
fully comprehend what he says until after I’m in the door, and I was already
smiling because he was smiling and when he started talking, I thought he was
going to say something nice like ‘Aren’t
you cute?’ or some other stupid, nice thing people say when they see babies.
But no, he says, “Get that thing out of her mouth.” It took all of my energy not
to turn and run after him to beat him with the soother and tell him that unless
he is going to be the one to calm my kid down while she’s LOSING HER FREAKING
MIND while the doctor checks her out, then he doesn’t get to have an opinion and
should shut. the. eff. UP. And the only reason I didn’t do that is because I was
late. And the possible assault charges that would follow. And I don’t need
another reason for my doctor to think that I am crazy and that’s why my child
acts like a demon every time we are in her office. So let’s recap: I’m late, man insults my
parenting skills, I fantasize about beating him but manage to restrain myself.
Okay, so we get called in quite quickly, which is odd, but since I’m a stupid
eternal optimist, I think, ‘Awesome. This
will be quick and easy and finished before Thumper has time to freak out.’
Little did I know. Forty-five, FORTY-FIVE EFFING MINUTES later, the doctor comes
in. We chit-chat, Thumper is still sane. The doctor starts to examine Thumper,
cue absolute chaos. The scene of us both trying to hold my screaming child down
might be funny if this didn’t happen every time and if the doctor would stop
judging me based on all of this. Then the doctor turns to me and says, “Is she
always like this?” And I say no and calmly explain that Thumper is normally a
happy kid and pretty friendly, probably overly-friendly, when in my mind I’m
thinking ‘Do you have kids? Have you ever
had a toddler patient before? What kid likes doctors? Or dentists? Or ANYONE who
makes them stop playing and running freely to lie down on a table and get poked
and have shiny lights flashed in their eyes and that stupid little thing stuck
in their mouths and say “aaahhhhhhhhh?” NO ONE. NO ONE LIKES THAT YOU DUMB
DOUCHEBAG.’ Then she says, “Do you think she’s hungry?” Let’s see. It’s past
noon at this point. That’s not only normally Thumper’s lunchtime, but everybody
else in the country’s lunchtime too. YES. YES MY KID IS HUNGRY. And let’s
remember, my appointment was at 11:00, and you didn’t even come in the room
until 11:45, which makes you 45 minutes late. But I was ten minutes late, so
I’ll give you a ten minute credit. So you were 35 minutes late. So not only is
my kid hungry but she is BORED OUT OF HER MIND. And she’s exhausted from
screaming in our faces for the last 30 minutes since you actually did get here.
STOP JUDGING ME, LADY. And let’s be honest. I know doctors are busy and always
late. Cool, I can deal with that. Unfortunately, my toddler cannot. I also know
that you are just trying to do your job and make sure that my child is the right
height and weight and has no mysterious bruises or ailments and all that kiddie
jazz. But again, unfortunately, my sixteen-month old does not understand who you
are, let alone what you are doing to her. And I know the image of her kicking at
both our faces and rolling off the table and tears streaming down her beat-red
face is burned into your mind, as it is in mine, however, my kid is too young to
remember the last time this happened. Or the time before that.
When we finally leave, Thumper’s still crying on my shoulder and hugging me
tightly—my super-ultra independent child hugging me tightly....this almost never
happens—and she falls asleep almost immediately in the car, which also rarely
happens anymore. And the whole ride home, the.whole.ride.home, she is still
heaving and sobbing WHILE SLEEPING. My kid is so traumatized by you, stupid
doctor lady, that she is crying in her sleep. What’s that sound? Can you hear
it? It’s the sound of female hearts breaking EVERYWHERE. Even the ones who hate
kids.
All I am asking, stupid doctor lady, is for you to please cut my sick,
teething, crying, scared sixteen month old some freaking slack, and stop judging
me for having a perfectly normal baby. BITCH. Also, old man, I repeat: unless
you are going to be the one to calm my kid down while she’s LOSING HER FREAKING
MIND while the doctor checks her out, then you don’t get to have an opinion and
should shut. the. eff. UP. BITCH.
So there you have it. My hatred for this doctor is not limited to this
particular incident, as there were several similar events that happened prior to
this one. Like the time she yelled at me for not giving Thumper her 18 month
vaccinations even though Thumper was only 12 months old at the time. I had to
remind her that she had just given Thumper her 12 month shots mere moments
earlier. I could go on but I think you understand why I changed doctors the day
after I wrote this rant. The silver lining in all of this is that I ended up
finding a doctor I trust and love to death. And I discovered the awesomeness of
a website called ratemd.com. Muhaha.
-Alice
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