pediatrician for sale

"Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry." -David Banner.

There comes a day in all awesome parents lives when they have to see their little one sustain an injury. My baby is slowing learning to walk and stand so I suspect that I'll see a few bumps and bonks in the next few months. He's so curious. Reaching for big books on coffee tables. Yanking on anything cord-like he can grab. I can put up all of the baby gates for sale on Ebay, but the truth is, babies are quick!
Little did I know that Joaquin's first injury would be compliments of the one who claims to lead our "wellness visits." Dr. Bill, (not his real name) has never really impressed me. He forgets that we don't eat animal products almost every visit (we've quit reminding him and just say mmmmm, ooohhhh, when he suggests cottage cheese, again). He repeats himself. He has a special way of making one feel like they are just a number, just a paycheck, and the more appointments he can fly through in a day, the better. Exactly the opposite of what I want for my baby.
After our 9 month visit, my husband turned to me and said, "so, you think we've outgrown Dr. Bill?"
"Yep," I said "we've heard the same spiel about 4 times."
So, we knew that we needed to find a new pediatrician. But time flies and we found ourselves at the 1 year visit, bracing for another round of immunizations that I continue to try to get comfortable with (another blog post, maybe). We were shown to our examination room, undressed the babe down to cloth diaper and let him stand on the table while holding our hands for stability. Dr. Bill walked in and Joaquin got suspicious. The doctor gave him a couple of tongue depressors and a tape measure to check out. Joaquin gave him the "I play with Lego's and puppets" look. The doctor measured his length and squeezed his belly. Joaquin cried out. Dr. Bill asked if he was trying to walk yet.
"Yes!" We both said, "if you hold his hands, he'll walk across the floor."
"Good" said Dr. Bill.
He placed Joaquin on the scale and weighed him. Then, in one quick move he picked him up, stood him up on the floor, and immediately let go. We watched Joaquin stand on his own for about 3 seconds and then tip forward and faceplant, hands by his sides on the carpet. You could see his little face slide forward as his body came crashing down. Ouch. The doctor, while in the best position to grab him as he went down, just watched. Joaquin gasped then howled. Dad snatched him up.
I thought, what the heck? I was stunned. I was sickened. I grabbed at my screaming baby and immediately noticed the red peeling, rug-burned skin.
"He's got a rug burn." I said.
"Let me see his face," said Dr. Bill. "Awww, buddy, you're okay."
He went on to say how nice and tall he is, usually they fall on their butts, he's got a different center of gravity because of his height.
Oh yeah, never mind that I never said he could stand on his own, nor did you ask or warn us that you were about to let him free fall. Jerk.
He said that he looked great developmentally, talked a little about the vaccines to be administered and wished us a nice summer.
"Absolutely." I squeaked out.
After the appointment we went outside and Joaquin immediately began to settle down.
"We're done with that guy," I said to my husband.
Then he said that Joaquin's eye looked weird. So now we have an otherwise perfect baby with a scratched up face and an eye injury. So much for wellness.

I went to work later that day and had the faceplant on replay all night long. Only now there were about 10 different endings to choose from. The one where I yell "why did you do that?" and one where I snatch up my baby and storm off, never to return. And of course, one where my husband knocks him out cold. I was stressed.
Late that night I came home to a sparkling clean house and a husband saying "I feel very strongly that we should never go to Dr. Bill again."
"Me too."
My husband had spent the night on replay as well. He googled just about everything you could google on eye scratches and called one of the doctors in the family. He decides that Joaquin needs to see an Opthamologist. The more we talk, the worse I feel. I decide to go right to bed so I can snuggle up with my son.
On the way to the pediatric opthomologist's office, I do something I should have done over a year ago. I take the business card out of my wallet for a nurse practitioner who doubles as a naturopath and has an office in Indianapolis. She was highly recommended by a friend and I really wanted to check it out. I make the call and say that we have a one year old and we would like to take him in for his wellness visits. The woman on the phone tells me that they don't give shots, but have a family practice. She tells me that Joaquin can see the nurse at The Complimentary Medicine Center and get his immunizations at the health dept. for free. We make our first appointment.
Which brings me to this. Why have a pediatrician anyway? All mine does is measure, weigh, and poke. His office hasn't been all together helpful when I've had an urgent question, and vaccines are FREE? I have insurance and only make a small co-pay, but the bill for each visit at Dr. Bill's office is over 500 dollars every time.
At the eye doctor we find out the the baby's eye is healing fine on it's own. As we drive Joaquin home he babbles and laughs and enjoys his new front facing carseat position. He's good. We're good.
Dr. Bill, you're fired.