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.