Since Brooklyn was a wee infant we have been taking her Dr. Schlicter. From the beginning we have fondly referred to him as "The Schlictenstein" and in the beginning he was both pleasant and helpful. I turned to him for every cough. But in the last couple of years something has changed inside The Schlictenstein. He has turned to the dark side. The enthusiastic pediatrician is dead. Darth Schlictenstein is our new doctor.
I first noticed the change last year at Avery's two-year check up. He could find nothing wrong with her. This angered him.
"Where did this bruise come from?" He insisted.
"I have no idea." by which I meant I had no idea.
"Strange place for a bruise."
"Yeah." Oh wait, maybe it was from that severe beating I gave her. (heavy sarcasm).
"Does she stack blocks?"
"Yes, she loves Legos."
"No, not Legos BLOCKS. How high would you say she stacks them?"
"I have no idea."
"I see."
Then, at Brooklyn's five-year check up...
"Well, she's definitely knock-kneed."
"What?"
"Yeah, it will probably cause her problems in the future. Does she play hopscotch?"
"Um, no."
"I see. Can she count backwards from twenty?"
"I have no idea. She can add and subtract and read books and memorize songs on the piano and skip, and ride a bike and draw everything she sees. But I don't know if she can count backwards from twenty."
"I see."
Finally yesterday at Avery's three year check up...
"Do you have any concerns?"
"Not really."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Well, I guess she could benefit from being around kids her own age. She's used to playing with older children and has a hard time playing with other three year olds."
"That's very immature."
"Yes, well she is three."
"I'd say she's acting more like a two and a half year old."
"Hmmm."
"How high can she count?"
"She's solid up to five."
"The next time I see her I want her counting backwards from twenty."
"No bruises??? Is she a couch potato?"
"Not at all."
"I get worried when I see no bruises."
"I see that last year Avery was in the ninetieth percentile for height. Now she is only in the fiftieth percentile. Its probably not a big deal; she may be in between growth spurts. So we won't check her for cancer just yet."
"WHAT?"
"Yes, children with cancer don't grow the way they should. We'll have to see how she grows this next year. No reason to worry...yet."
I first noticed the change last year at Avery's two-year check up. He could find nothing wrong with her. This angered him.
"Where did this bruise come from?" He insisted.
"I have no idea." by which I meant I had no idea.
"Strange place for a bruise."
"Yeah." Oh wait, maybe it was from that severe beating I gave her. (heavy sarcasm).
"Does she stack blocks?"
"Yes, she loves Legos."
"No, not Legos BLOCKS. How high would you say she stacks them?"
"I have no idea."
"I see."
Then, at Brooklyn's five-year check up...
"Well, she's definitely knock-kneed."
"What?"
"Yeah, it will probably cause her problems in the future. Does she play hopscotch?"
"Um, no."
"I see. Can she count backwards from twenty?"
"I have no idea. She can add and subtract and read books and memorize songs on the piano and skip, and ride a bike and draw everything she sees. But I don't know if she can count backwards from twenty."
"I see."
Finally yesterday at Avery's three year check up...
"Do you have any concerns?"
"Not really."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Well, I guess she could benefit from being around kids her own age. She's used to playing with older children and has a hard time playing with other three year olds."
"That's very immature."
"Yes, well she is three."
"I'd say she's acting more like a two and a half year old."
"Hmmm."
"How high can she count?"
"She's solid up to five."
"The next time I see her I want her counting backwards from twenty."
"No bruises??? Is she a couch potato?"
"Not at all."
"I get worried when I see no bruises."
"I see that last year Avery was in the ninetieth percentile for height. Now she is only in the fiftieth percentile. Its probably not a big deal; she may be in between growth spurts. So we won't check her for cancer just yet."
"WHAT?"
"Yes, children with cancer don't grow the way they should. We'll have to see how she grows this next year. No reason to worry...yet."
What the-!!!
I cried and fretted the rest of the afternoon until it occurred to me: The Schlictenstein is a real douche. Time for a new pediatrician.
12 comments:
LOL! I'm going to miss your funny Schlicter stories, but dude, it IS time for a new pediatrician. If he asks you why, you can say it's because he acts more like a 39 1/2 year-old than a 40-year-old. VERY immature.
Oh my goodness... that is so horribly bad and yet I am laughing HARD!
What a total tool!
That is so bad I'm laughing over somebodies stupidy this hard.
can he count backward from twenty? hmmm... I have a very good ped so call me if you want his name he is seriously the bestest
So, does this mean that you will no longer turn and cough for Herr Schlictenstein?
ROFL!!! Wow.
I don't even have anything to say to that.
Holy crap.
What a douche.
what kind of crazy doctor tells you she might have cancer? totally lame!!! yes, time for a new doctor.
HE NEEDS TO BE REPORTED! GOOD GRIEF! Isn't there some place we can complain about doctors (after we've left them of course?) Oh...I guess it is here in the blogosphere...This must mean the majority of my neighbors, especially my youngest daughter and our nieces all 'might have cancer.' How old is this weirdo--sounds delusional to me.
I was gonna say, is he fairly old?
This is the stuff of brilliant comedy.
Ooo, come to my doctor, come to my doctor! He's fabulous, and his office is about half a block from our house! Plus, he gives sparkly princess stickers when you go. And, he'll fit you in about 15 minutes after you call to make an appointment. And he's just the best!
Dr. Daynes at Herriman Family Medicine. Tell him Erika sent you.
When my sister was first finding out there was something amiss with her pregnancy, her doctor said something to the effect of, "I'm so glad you came today because I wouldn't want you to have a dead baby."
What the--?!?
Sometimes doctors forget their bedside manner.
Shana - it just reaffirms my assertion that doctors are nothing more than glorified mechanics.
And you, my love are a GREAT mechanic :)
... who happens to also possess people skillz.
I'm still laughing but also perturbed at the silly man who calls himself a Pediatrician!
I've met him before and he is not "older", I'd say mid forties. Go get a smart Dr with some bedside manner!
You are such a funny writer, Honey! Great style.
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