I recently took my son to the pediatrician for his annual well check-up. I have never loved our doctor but he does have impressive credentials and seems competent enough. But during this particular visit I was reminded of why I generally hate doctors.
Things didn't start well. My son recognized the medical building as soon as we pulled into the parking lot and immediately began to protest loudly. The memory of our last visit clearly left a bad impression on him. But I suppose having a giant Q-tip shoved up his nose to swab for the flu would taint anyone's opinion of the medical profession. Still, it was a pediatric practice so I was certain my kid wasn't the first to cry during a visit. I filled out the necessary paperwork and cringed as I took my seat in the waiting room, wondering what kind of bacteria lurked in the mottled gray carpet.
When we were finally called back to an exam room my son was beside himself. He was in rare form, screaming bloody murder as the nurse tried to weigh him and take his measurements. And by screaming I mean I'm pretty sure every person on the floor could hear him.
After a few moments, Dr. Ivy League came in. Dr. Ivy is tall, gangly, and probably in his mid forties. He has a high forehead and a receding hairline that you would expect from a man so smug. After a perfunctory handshake, he took a seat, flipped open his laptop and began asking a series of questions. Things were progressing normally, or as normally as one could expect with a hysterical toddler clinging to my legs, until I mentioned that I had taken my child to see a specialist.
I won't go into my son's medical history but I had a particular concern that I had voiced at my last well check-up. Dr. Ivy promptly dismissed it and sent me on my merry way. I still had my doubts and wanted a second opinion. Seems logical right? Apparently not for Dr. Ivy. The look of shock and indignation on his face was priceless. This lead to a fifteen minute extremely unflattering diatribe about the specialist that culminated in Dr. Ivy essentially calling me a gullible moron and telling me that my money would be better spent enrolling my child in swim lessons or a gymnastics. FYI... swim lessons and gymnastics had nothing to do with my original concerns. I was willing to let things slide but the man had diarrhea of the mouth and kept trying to drive his point home. Also his mood had soured and he had no patience for my screaming child. My face must have given me away because he immediately followed up with "I'm sorry if I offended you..."
Here's the thing Dr. Ivy. If you have to apologize after your speech it's probably because you said something stupid and very unprofessional. I am a parent and I have the right to seek a second opinion. Yes, you have that precious "D" at the end of your title but that doesn't mean I will take your word as gospel. Mother's have instincts and I hate to tell you but mine were spot on.
Second, it is terribly unprofessional of you to criticize another medical professional; especially when you are not trained in their field. When you call another licensed professional a "huckster" or a "money grubbing fraud who never says no to client" you come across as insecure and a giant throbbing dick. I'm pretty sure you are happy to collect all of your patient's co-pays. And I highly doubt you would ever turn an insured patient away.
Finally, what is it with doctors and their condescending attitude. Dr. Ivy you are not God. You are just a dude who went to school for a really long time. I will not flatter you or hang on your every word. I realize now that you are unaccustomed to this. Clearly questioning your professional opinion really stuck in your craw.
Also, instead of pontificating from your moral high horse you could have actually paid attention to my kid. You missed a perfect opportunity to assuage my child's fears and turn the office visit into a teachable moment. Maybe my kid wouldn't scream bloody murder if you treated him like a human being. Hell, if you had given him a sticker he probably would have shut up. So Dr. Ivy your time with us is done and we will no longer need your services. Rest assured, I will make sure my co-pay goes to someone else.
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