Oh! The Horror!
I've been very inspired by other people's blogs lately. Today I was reading Dooce's account of her daughter Leta's 12 month well baby check. Leta is fine! But it reminded me of my many encounters with the Moosh's pediatrician (Dr. R). Let me sum it up for you right now: I hate her. I hate her partner (Dr. S) EVEN MORE. Let me tell you why.
The excessive crying problem that the Moosh had when he was born turned out to be caused by GERD. You know, acid reflux. It's actually quite common in new babies, but it made our lives miserable. So, you're probably thinking, when did your doctor inform you of this condition? Well she didn't. I figured it out by reading the internet. I found some articles. I read them. I printed them out and took them to her office, accompanied by my screaming infant. I told her that he had acid reflux. She gave him medicine. It all got a lot better. I should have had the insurance company pay ME, because she didn't do a fucking thing to make him feel better.
After that I really wanted to switch docs, but all the other peds in my area were either not on my insurance plan or weren't taking new patients. So we stayed with Dr. R.
Every well baby check we went to, she told us what was wrong with him. The early appointments were all related to the excessive crying and how she thought we should switch him to formula. I was committed to nursing him (good thing) so I wouldn't allow her to derail me ( he did fine on breastmilk and it wasn't the cause of the GERD, according to the specialist). After we got the GERD thing sorted out, she had to find other things that were wrong. One time she thought his head had grown too much (it hadn't). Another time she was worried that he was in the 50th percentile for weight at his previous visit, but at that visit he was in the 47th percentile. Three whole fucking percentile points. He'd also started crawling during that time. You know, moving around. Which burns calories. She didn't think that the crawling was significant. You know, I didn't go to medical school, but even I know that moving around burns calories, bitch.
The Moosh only had one fever in the first year of his life, in May of 2004, when he was 11 months old. He caught it in the Emergency Room at Dallas Children's Hospital, where we'd taken him to have a hernia looked at a few days before he got sick. The fever was pretty high, and since it was the first time he'd been sick, we thought we should take him to see the doctor. Unfortunately, it was Friday night when he got sick and we had to take him to the doctor on Saturday morning. Dr. R was not in the office that day so we saw her partner Dr. S.
Dr. S examined the Moosh, and the first thing that she told us was that he'd gained weight and needed a higher dose of Tylenol than we'd been giving him. She then gave him a dose of Children's Advil. OK so far. Then she told me that he had an infection in his blood (bacteremia). According to her this infection was quite serious. It could turn into meningitis if we weren't careful. Hopefully he would make it through. Stuff like that. I, of course, became nearly apoplectic with worry as she was going through all of this stuff. Then she said that they needed to get a blood sample, a sterile urine sample, and give him some antibiotics. Fine. I said I wanted to hold the baby while she was doing these procedures. She told me that I couldn't, that if I held him that it would make everything worse, pain wise. So instead of letting me hold him, they TIED HIM TO THE TABLE. Of course he started screaming. They took blood first. It only took them 5 times to get a vein, because they'd TIED HIM TO THE TABLE so he couldn't move his torso, but he could still move his arms, and his arms were flailing because they TIED HIM TO THE TABLE. So they finally got the blood sample. Baby is still screaming and I am very, very upset. Next came the catheter. Unfortunately he'd just peed and so when she put in the catheter (oh, the SCREAMS) she barely got anything out. She pushed hard on his abdomen a few times. More screaming. Finally, they gave him antibiotics, two shots, one in each leg. And he SCREAMED SCREAMED SCREAMED. I was crying and close to hysterical myself.
Dr. S and tech retreated and I undid the straps that they used to TIE HIM TO THE FUCKING TABLE and nursed him. He finally started to calm down. We waited in the office for about 20 minutes to see if he had any reaction to the antibiotics. He didn't, and we went home. I couldn't put him down for the rest of the day. He just nursed and nursed for comfort because he was SO UPSET and I was SO UPSET for him. I justified the whole thing in my head, the doctor said he was REALLY SICK, and so all of the PAIN and SCREAMING were necessary. His fever had come down with the correct dose of Children's Advil, so I kept giving it to him. He was completely recovered the next day.
A few days later Dr. S's nurse called me with the results of his tests. Turns out he didn't have a serious bacterial infection that could have killed him. What? No, he had a cold. A cold. Caused by a virus. I must admit, I got pretty snippy with the nurse on the phone. I asked him why they pumped him full of antibiotics if he had a virus. I asked him why all of those tests were necessary. Of course, he had no answers for me, and I knew he didn't but I needed to yell at someone.
As soon as I hung up the phone I knew that all of my rationalizations for letting that bad stuff happen to the baby had flown out the window. I still feel guilty about it. Still to this day. I've talked with other parents and I've been informed that not all offices TIE BABIES TO THE TABLE to take blood and do catheters. In fact, none of the parents to whom I spoke knew anything about TYING BABIES TO TABLES. Personally I felt that TYING THE BABY TO THE TABLE was excessive. I did tell the doctor that I wanted to hold him. She told me it would hurt MORE. I now know that is not true, and I cannot get over my GUILT.
I have since talked to another parent who sees this Dr. S as her regular pediatrician, and she told me that Dr. S always thinks the worst and acts like the kid is going to die. Of course I didn't know that at the time.
There has been emotional fallout from that disastrous visit. The Moosh, who had never minded going to the doctor before, now cries if we so much as drive by the building. He refuses to get on the examining table at all, and I've laid down the law with Dr. R about holding him while she gets his shots. She still doesn't like it.
The Moosh was sick for the whole month of November 2004 with three back-to-back ear infections. Dr. R was supportive and willing to work with me about avoiding unnecessary procedures. I appreciated that.
However, since we switched to PPO insurance in January, and there is a new pediatrician's office down the street from us, I think it might be time to switch doctors.
I think the main problem that I have with pediatricians is that they don't consider the results of doing all of these painful procedures on babies. I once had a kid that didn't mind going to the doctor(despite the shots), now I have one who cries the whole time we're there. That's not good.
The excessive crying problem that the Moosh had when he was born turned out to be caused by GERD. You know, acid reflux. It's actually quite common in new babies, but it made our lives miserable. So, you're probably thinking, when did your doctor inform you of this condition? Well she didn't. I figured it out by reading the internet. I found some articles. I read them. I printed them out and took them to her office, accompanied by my screaming infant. I told her that he had acid reflux. She gave him medicine. It all got a lot better. I should have had the insurance company pay ME, because she didn't do a fucking thing to make him feel better.
After that I really wanted to switch docs, but all the other peds in my area were either not on my insurance plan or weren't taking new patients. So we stayed with Dr. R.
Every well baby check we went to, she told us what was wrong with him. The early appointments were all related to the excessive crying and how she thought we should switch him to formula. I was committed to nursing him (good thing) so I wouldn't allow her to derail me ( he did fine on breastmilk and it wasn't the cause of the GERD, according to the specialist). After we got the GERD thing sorted out, she had to find other things that were wrong. One time she thought his head had grown too much (it hadn't). Another time she was worried that he was in the 50th percentile for weight at his previous visit, but at that visit he was in the 47th percentile. Three whole fucking percentile points. He'd also started crawling during that time. You know, moving around. Which burns calories. She didn't think that the crawling was significant. You know, I didn't go to medical school, but even I know that moving around burns calories, bitch.
The Moosh only had one fever in the first year of his life, in May of 2004, when he was 11 months old. He caught it in the Emergency Room at Dallas Children's Hospital, where we'd taken him to have a hernia looked at a few days before he got sick. The fever was pretty high, and since it was the first time he'd been sick, we thought we should take him to see the doctor. Unfortunately, it was Friday night when he got sick and we had to take him to the doctor on Saturday morning. Dr. R was not in the office that day so we saw her partner Dr. S.
Dr. S examined the Moosh, and the first thing that she told us was that he'd gained weight and needed a higher dose of Tylenol than we'd been giving him. She then gave him a dose of Children's Advil. OK so far. Then she told me that he had an infection in his blood (bacteremia). According to her this infection was quite serious. It could turn into meningitis if we weren't careful. Hopefully he would make it through. Stuff like that. I, of course, became nearly apoplectic with worry as she was going through all of this stuff. Then she said that they needed to get a blood sample, a sterile urine sample, and give him some antibiotics. Fine. I said I wanted to hold the baby while she was doing these procedures. She told me that I couldn't, that if I held him that it would make everything worse, pain wise. So instead of letting me hold him, they TIED HIM TO THE TABLE. Of course he started screaming. They took blood first. It only took them 5 times to get a vein, because they'd TIED HIM TO THE TABLE so he couldn't move his torso, but he could still move his arms, and his arms were flailing because they TIED HIM TO THE TABLE. So they finally got the blood sample. Baby is still screaming and I am very, very upset. Next came the catheter. Unfortunately he'd just peed and so when she put in the catheter (oh, the SCREAMS) she barely got anything out. She pushed hard on his abdomen a few times. More screaming. Finally, they gave him antibiotics, two shots, one in each leg. And he SCREAMED SCREAMED SCREAMED. I was crying and close to hysterical myself.
Dr. S and tech retreated and I undid the straps that they used to TIE HIM TO THE FUCKING TABLE and nursed him. He finally started to calm down. We waited in the office for about 20 minutes to see if he had any reaction to the antibiotics. He didn't, and we went home. I couldn't put him down for the rest of the day. He just nursed and nursed for comfort because he was SO UPSET and I was SO UPSET for him. I justified the whole thing in my head, the doctor said he was REALLY SICK, and so all of the PAIN and SCREAMING were necessary. His fever had come down with the correct dose of Children's Advil, so I kept giving it to him. He was completely recovered the next day.
A few days later Dr. S's nurse called me with the results of his tests. Turns out he didn't have a serious bacterial infection that could have killed him. What? No, he had a cold. A cold. Caused by a virus. I must admit, I got pretty snippy with the nurse on the phone. I asked him why they pumped him full of antibiotics if he had a virus. I asked him why all of those tests were necessary. Of course, he had no answers for me, and I knew he didn't but I needed to yell at someone.
As soon as I hung up the phone I knew that all of my rationalizations for letting that bad stuff happen to the baby had flown out the window. I still feel guilty about it. Still to this day. I've talked with other parents and I've been informed that not all offices TIE BABIES TO THE TABLE to take blood and do catheters. In fact, none of the parents to whom I spoke knew anything about TYING BABIES TO TABLES. Personally I felt that TYING THE BABY TO THE TABLE was excessive. I did tell the doctor that I wanted to hold him. She told me it would hurt MORE. I now know that is not true, and I cannot get over my GUILT.
I have since talked to another parent who sees this Dr. S as her regular pediatrician, and she told me that Dr. S always thinks the worst and acts like the kid is going to die. Of course I didn't know that at the time.
There has been emotional fallout from that disastrous visit. The Moosh, who had never minded going to the doctor before, now cries if we so much as drive by the building. He refuses to get on the examining table at all, and I've laid down the law with Dr. R about holding him while she gets his shots. She still doesn't like it.
The Moosh was sick for the whole month of November 2004 with three back-to-back ear infections. Dr. R was supportive and willing to work with me about avoiding unnecessary procedures. I appreciated that.
However, since we switched to PPO insurance in January, and there is a new pediatrician's office down the street from us, I think it might be time to switch doctors.
I think the main problem that I have with pediatricians is that they don't consider the results of doing all of these painful procedures on babies. I once had a kid that didn't mind going to the doctor(despite the shots), now I have one who cries the whole time we're there. That's not good.
posted by Lisa C. @ 3:52:00 PM
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