Mind your bedside manners

This post has been sitting in my drafts since March 23. I felt it might be a little harsh, my ire was directed to a particular Dr. in the practice. My mind was changed for me today by the alleged practice manager at The Mosman Practice. Overseas readers keep in mind kids do not see pediatricians in OZ. The waiting room could be a scene for a Life Alert ad to a bad Viagra commercial to a Pedialite endorsement and back through the full spectrum again. EVERYONE is expected to behave accordingly, i.e, like little tiny adults.

So to start with my original post from March 23...

Dr.s are like haircuts, some are good some are bad but no two are ever the same. I think I may have seen one of the worst Dr.s ever. I am not going to call her by name, I do not want to be sued for slander as I can not prove beyond reasonable doubt she is indeed THE WORST DR in Australia. It is simply my educated opinion! Surprisingly, she came highly recommended by multiple sources, I am praying this is not as good as it gets here.

CM goes in to The Mosman Practice with a stomach flu, he can not even hold down water. The receptionist sees our plight and tells me the Dr. will see you next. I am pretty sure he will throw up while we are waiting so I am prepared with towels and a barf bag. Two patients go in ahead of us, alas, next must mean something much different here. As predicted, CM throws up, while he is throwing up he is emitting a primal scream of pain. It is a sad scene. At the exact moment this is going on Dr. comes out, I hear his name in the background, she said it probably 3X and then said it louder to almost a shout with hands on hips. Instead of concern, the look she gives is pure annoyance that I did not jump up at the sound of our name. "CM, honey wrap up the cute barfing act now Dr. Dead in the Heart is waiting, come along now Love, we don't want to make her wait for you and your silly little dry heaving game." We are seen in a non private triage sick room. No such thing as HIPAA here! While we are in triage an older lady is ushered in and about 3 more staff come in to chat loudly about the lady's acupuncture tab in her ear. At the sound of this interesting acupuncture tidbit the Dr. wanders over like a labrador that just heard the word ball! She checks out the above mentioned acu-ear. I am still sitting with a very sick baby in my lap waiting for her to tell me something more than I knew before I dropped $80. She wanders back over, you know labs have very short attention spans, the diagnosis is "if he gets more dehydrated you have to go to the hospital." Yes, yes yes very helpful, that is why we are here to try and avoid a hospital trip, thanks for the info! "Well yes then thank you" she says and the visit is over.

Progress 2 weeks to mid April, for 6 days straight I felt awful. Without boring you, it was like the worst hangover or morning sickness you have ever had 24/7. As I am not preggo and am as dry as Upton County, GA I reluctantly head to Dr. Dead Heart, twin boys in tow. I tell her all of my horrible symptoms. She barely nods. I think she is alive because occasionally she blinks but I can't be sure. I tell her I recently changed my diet dramatically. She takes my temp, she pushes my stomach. She does not ask me any questions. I could have changed my diet to the lemon cleanse and crack cocaine and she would be none the wiser. She does not take my pulse, my blood pressure or order any tests, she doesn't feel my lymph nodes, she doesn't ask if I am keeping fluids/food in, or if I have had a temperature NOTHING! Literally, no questions. She tells me, "hmmm...mmmm...maybe Giardia, hard to tell, if you still feel bad in four days take this." I say, "you want me to feel bad for four more days?" I think to myself, that is 10 days of vomiting and nausea while being the carer of 2.5 y.o twins, that does not fit into my job requirements.  She says with not an ounce of compassion, "Well yeah the tests are unreliable then you do a upper Gi test and find it and well...you know." No, I don't know, that is why I am here. I just know I feel worse than when I walked in today. I also tell her we seem to get sick after swimming lessons. She said, "well, you know kids pee in the pool." Ahh...the pee...yes...the pee is what all of the signs around the pool are warning us of, not the other business for certain. That afternoon I found a new Dr.

Progress to present day. Due to some rescheduling on my part. I have not been to my new Dr. So I have to use The Mosman Practice, almost like an urgent care. CH has had a hoarse voice for about a week so we make an appointment specifically with anyone but Dr. Dead Heart. We arrive a few minutes early. There are 2 other little boys in the waiting room aged 2 & 4. They go into the pathology lab, I hear the four y.o say sadly, "mommy, are they going to have to poke my tummy AGAIN?" He must have been a brave soldier b/c they come out with a specimen cup full of gummy worms(aka lollys in Australia). Being 2 & 4 they drop half of one on the carpet. They leave. We are now the only ones under 50 in the room. 20 minutes elapse, we are now up to about 27 minutes of waiting my kids are getting anxious. I pull two lollipops out of my purse and make them promise on all of their toys and stuffys and their young precious lives life that if I give them the lollipops they will stay seated and use inside voices. I am unwrapping the lollis when a front office worker comes in, she is new to the scene. I can see the writing on the wall and the end of the story as clear as if we are in a bad rom-com.  She passes us, she looks at the discarded gummy worm, then to us with our lollipops and begins to attempt to burn a whole through the three of us with her nasty stare. She huffs to the tissues, pulls one out with great flourish, bends over in a huff and picks up the horribly offensive 1/2 of a uneaten gummy worm and then.............says loudly for all in the waiting room to hear, "ARE YOU ACTUALLY GOING TO GIVE THEM MORE LOLLIS?" What? OH, HELL NO WOMAN, however this scene went down in your head is not how it is actually going to go down! I feel heat flood into my ears. I say, "I saw you giving us a dirty look when you walked in the room, just so you know that is not ours and I think your behavior and your comment are very inappropriate, don't you think!" She says, "yes, it was, I agree, it is inappropriate, I am having a very bad day." Well, that kind of stops an argument. I say, "I am sorry to hear that." But I am still so mad! I hate to tell her, but just the act of being in a grown up Dr.'s office with small children puts one immediately and almost certainly into the bad day bracket or at the very least the not the greatest day bracket. Thankfully, CH is just fine, the diagnosis is just a virus, he is not fazed by his scratchy throat at all, no fever, no symptoms at all! Thankfully, we saw a very lovely Dr. Neville. Her bedside manner was kind and compassionate. If need be I would see her again. After we get through the medical end of the visit I tell the Dr we had a bit of a situation whilst waiting. I explain. She is horrified. She says she has had issue with this woman and she is actually the PRACTICE DIRECTOR! She says, "I am going to report this, can I jot your number down in case we need to discuss further." She calls me about an hour later and tells me that I need to put it in writing, can I please please do that and send it to so and so Director, IPN, NSW, if I don't she says NOTHING will happen? Sure. Whats the email? "Oh... I am not able to get his email can you mail it?" Mail, as in a letter? Hmmm...my airspeed and altitude drop. Now a letter may not be all that much harder to send than an email but in my mind it is exponentially harder. There is the printing, the envelope, the stamp and the posting of said letter. Oh, the trouble of it all! I am still undecided if it is worth it. My feeling is I have done my part, I told them what went down, now it is their garden to tend.

But... there is a problem. There is a disconnect between my thinking and their reality. It is not really their garden to tend. It is Australia's garden, funded by $12.99/pint blueberries and other outrageous taxes. As a "community" garden they have hired gardeners of varying dedication and skill level to tend to the garden but no one has ownership. Nothing will happen. No one is empowered. Not even the Doctor.