I lost one of my favorite earrings today. I hate that.
I didn't get much accomplished. Where does the time go?
Right.
I was trying to get my son taken care of, trying to find someone competent and caring. He's sick and I took him to his pediatric clinic for the last appointment last night. They were locking the doors as we sat in the waiting room. When they called us in, the nurse sweetly asked us to go over the details, she asked about Nick's medications, and covered some relevant details, like family history. I was starting to feel good about coming to this appointment. Then, the doctor walked in. This so-called doctor rolled her eyes when Nick tried to tell her what was wrong. "There's a run on people who think they have that today," she said. Oh no, you did not just say that to my child. You did not just roll your eyes at what he was saying.
We came home with nothing, just advice to come back in in three or four days if the symptoms persist. We needed an antibiotic. I may not be a doctor, but I'm not stupid. But that's the problem, isn't it? This doctor treats both Nick and I as if we are stupid.
You know, I will not take Nick back to this doctor even if she's the only doctor available within a thousand miles. She didn't believe what he said was happening to him. The last time I brought him to her, she made him feel bad about himself.
I intended to write something different tonight, but when I got home after meeting with a friend, I needed to get my son taken care of by a proper doctor, not one who rolls her eyes when my son describes his symptoms. You can tell I'm pissed at this woman. I can't write the funny stories right now. Sorry.
I want to ask her, "Just what is lacking in you that makes you need to work so hard to make a twelve year old boy feel bad about stuff he doesn't have any control over? Did your father tell you that you weren't smart enough or pretty enough or what? Why do you feel the need to propagate that damage by becoming a pediatric doctor? You don't even like kids, do you?"
Yup. I'm pretty pissed, partly at myself. See, I swore I'd never see this woman for any reason in the future. I swore she'd never hurt Nick again. There are four or five other doctors in this office. There are some good ones. I could switch to one of them, I thought. Funny thing is that when you're kid gets sick and you call the clinic, you get who you get. We got stuck with this bad one a couple of times. I thought it might work out, that we'd give her a second chance.
Not any more. I'll take my boy somewhere, anywhere else. I'm done giving second chances. No more eye-rolling for us.
Thank you for listening, jb
I didn't get much accomplished. Where does the time go?
Right.
I was trying to get my son taken care of, trying to find someone competent and caring. He's sick and I took him to his pediatric clinic for the last appointment last night. They were locking the doors as we sat in the waiting room. When they called us in, the nurse sweetly asked us to go over the details, she asked about Nick's medications, and covered some relevant details, like family history. I was starting to feel good about coming to this appointment. Then, the doctor walked in. This so-called doctor rolled her eyes when Nick tried to tell her what was wrong. "There's a run on people who think they have that today," she said. Oh no, you did not just say that to my child. You did not just roll your eyes at what he was saying.
We came home with nothing, just advice to come back in in three or four days if the symptoms persist. We needed an antibiotic. I may not be a doctor, but I'm not stupid. But that's the problem, isn't it? This doctor treats both Nick and I as if we are stupid.
You know, I will not take Nick back to this doctor even if she's the only doctor available within a thousand miles. She didn't believe what he said was happening to him. The last time I brought him to her, she made him feel bad about himself.
I intended to write something different tonight, but when I got home after meeting with a friend, I needed to get my son taken care of by a proper doctor, not one who rolls her eyes when my son describes his symptoms. You can tell I'm pissed at this woman. I can't write the funny stories right now. Sorry.
I want to ask her, "Just what is lacking in you that makes you need to work so hard to make a twelve year old boy feel bad about stuff he doesn't have any control over? Did your father tell you that you weren't smart enough or pretty enough or what? Why do you feel the need to propagate that damage by becoming a pediatric doctor? You don't even like kids, do you?"
Yup. I'm pretty pissed, partly at myself. See, I swore I'd never see this woman for any reason in the future. I swore she'd never hurt Nick again. There are four or five other doctors in this office. There are some good ones. I could switch to one of them, I thought. Funny thing is that when you're kid gets sick and you call the clinic, you get who you get. We got stuck with this bad one a couple of times. I thought it might work out, that we'd give her a second chance.
Not any more. I'll take my boy somewhere, anywhere else. I'm done giving second chances. No more eye-rolling for us.
Thank you for listening, jb
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