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We went back to the pediatrician today. Still doing great and gaining weight. Theo’s doc seems to think we have everything under control. (Seriously?) I like her. She has taken a shine to our pooper. She calls him little Buddha.

The doctor I’m not liking: Mine. After Theo’s rather dramatic arrival at random ghetto-ish hospital in the BK, I was hoping—I was expecting—my doctor would call to check in on us. She didn’t.

When I called her and spoke to the secretary, I was told that my doc wouldn’t examine me till late February. “You don’t need one,” she said. Did the hospital send you my records? I asked. “No.” She didn’t seem to care that I was discharged with no exam, with no info on my health or recovery, no nothing.

Not to be all pay-attention-to-me, but having a baby does a number on one’s body. It would be nice if a medical professional would acknowledge it. I find this all very disheartening.

I will be dumping my doctor. If only Theo’s doc would take me.
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