We’re breaking up with our pediatrician. This was not an easy decision to make, but it was made and done in the span of, well, two hours — just the amount of time we had to sit and wait in the waiting room for our scheduled-far-in-advance Well Child visit yesterday. (I know, right?)
We’ve had this problem before. The practice is huge. I don’t even know how many doctors are there and frankly, I don’t care because we only see our doctor. I am That Mom. I insist on it. I even sweet-talked our doc into giving us her admin office number so she could squeeze us in if The Who got sick. We have only seen another doc once or twice in the whole three years. We love our pediatrician. Love. And that is the only reason we stayed at the practice as long as we did.
The waiting room, regardless of when we arrive or how far in advance our appointment is scheduled, is always overrun with croupy coughs, wild children, and parents glued to their phones. There’s maybe one toy in the waiting room, surely crawling with virus, and sometimes there is a box of torn up, old books. The tv in there always plays crappy big-kid shows (Spongebob and the like.) There’s nothing in there that says “happy place for kids” and even less that appeals to parents — least of all the wait time.
Two hours, you guys. Two hours with my three-year-old and my wife who had to get to work. Two hours with no discussion of why we were waiting so long. Two hours with nothing to do but run the halls and go up and down in the elevator. Fortunately, once we got in, it wasn’t so bad. Sometimes, because it’s a teaching practice, you have to see 17 psuedo-doctors before the real one comes in, which, lemme tell you, is no treat when you have a feverish kid in your lap.
We’ve wanted to leave before, but the continuity of having the same doc who first listened to his tiny heart was compelling. And, in case I haven’t mentioned it, we love our doc. She talks to both The Who and us with respect and I have always trusted her cautious-without-being-alarmist nature. She is honest and friendly and bright.
But, at the end of our visit yesterday, I gave her a hug. I’ll send her a heartfelt message on our holiday card this week, and then we probably won’t see her again. We’re moving to a practice with one doc that comes highly recommended. It’s close, convenient, and I can already tell that it’ll be better than the other one.
Change is not easy for me. The Who, on the other hand, when he heard that he would have a new doc and needed to say goodbye to this one, gave a nonchalant wave and said, “Bye, Dr. XXX. See ya later,” and he was out the door. Que sera sera, I guess.