Category: Soapbox

No, Let Me Do Your Job

Wednesday, June 29th, 2011

From birth until age 19, I had a pediatrician who looked like Tootsie, wore a Mickey Mouse watch and spoke in a voice between Julia Child and Kermit the Frog.

Each time I’d go into her office she’d say “So what do you think is the problem today?  Tell me all about it!”  I was a frequent visitor to her office, so it could be anything from strep throat to sinus infection.  As I got older, I could recognize my symptoms and work with her to figure out what needed to be done.  We even negotiated exit gift toys quid pro quo:  Two shots?  Okay, make that TWO plastic diamond rings and we have a deal! She taught me how to be proactive with my healthcare.  I loved her and was pissed when she moved from private practice into a big HMO that would no longer allow her to see me.

Having had those 19 years with a great hands-on physician, I feel better equipped when dealing with backlogged private medical groups  where visits are clocked at 10 minutes or less.  This is even moreso with Dr. F and her bustling mega-practice.

Part of me wishes I could get Dr. F’s team to tour Dr. Taylor Swift’s office.  Before every allergy check-up, I have to complete a questionnaire that asks all medications being taken, symptoms incurred,  intervening illnesses and any questions I may have for the doctor.   Her nurse then goes over the form with me while entering my answers into a computer.   When Dr. Taylor Swift walks in, she pulls up the screen and says “Let’s see what’s going on.”  As she scans through my responses, she asks questions.  It’s a very interactive process.

With Dr. F’s office, I have never been asked what medications I take or illnesses I may have had….things that seem kind of important when incubating another human being.  Come to think of it, her nurses have never asked me anything.  They take my blood pressure, write down my weight and slap a test strip into my urine sample.  When Dr. F comes in, she quickly scans the info-lacking chart and asks generic questions like “So are things going okay? Any pain?”

That means I have to kick into question mode.   Yesterday, I talked my way into a urinalysis.  I’m concerned about having a bladder infection.  She wasn’t so much because the sample “looked normal.”  Ya know, like it did months ago when I had a triple infection that lasted weeks.

Then, concerned I may be taking too much Vitamin D (10,000 iu/day), I asked for my blood levels.   She scanned my chart – no D levels available.  She was surprised I was taking such a really high dose even though I gave her my vitamin dosages on day one.   She told me to cease and desist on the Vitamin D and ordered blood work.

I just worry about the chicks who go in there and ask or say nothing.   I’m definitely going to raise Wiggles to be her own advocate.  Doctors may consider her a pain in the ass,  but I’d rather she be the thorn in their side than risk her own health. (kow)

In the meantime, I’ll cross my fingers that her chosen pediatrician is as great as mine was.  If not, we’ll just keep looking until we strike gold.

Well, or plastic diamond bling.



Parents Just Don’t Understand

Monday, June 27th, 2011

It was back to the hospital lab for follow-up bloodwork this morning.   This is the same lab that does newborn screening tests.

Today’s fresh crop of clueless parents barely above drinking age included the following:

  • Smother Father:  Adorable baby giving classic hunger cues (licking lips, turning head, fist in mouth).  Dad decides this means baby strapped in car seat is cold.  He proceeds to tightly tuck junior’s blankets, making him snug as a bug in a rug.  He gets the even more brilliant idea to put the blanket over the kid’s mouth.  As I’m about to crawl outta my skin, the baby wiggles his way away from the blanket and screams his head off.  Mom, wearing a tank top and butt shorts a week postpartum, finally gets a clue.  She picks up baby and slaps a bottle in his mouth.
  • Apple Dumb-pling Gang:  You know the saying “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”  Enter grandma and new mom daughter.  Grandma’s holding baby boy in car seat, swinging it around like a golf club or Goofy winding up for a pitch.  Meanwhile, baby has no head support and is crying.   I’m thinking classic motion sickness/serious discomfort.  Or maybe he’s just realized “Crap, these people are my family.”  Daughter walks up to front desk and examines sign that reads “Sign in using your initials only.  Please be seated and we will call you when it’s your turn.”   She turns to her brilliant mom and says “Do I put his initials or mine?”  Grandma shrugs her shoulders, so girl rings bell and annoys the crap outta the understandably surly nurses behind the counter.
  • Winner for Loser Dad:   22ish surfer-type guy walks in to ask young, attentive woman holding baby “Are you done yet?”  She shakes her head.  He walks out.  (Repeat two more times within 20 minutes.)  I think “Hmm…maybe he’s got the car running to avoid parking?”   I manage to leave before her and see him chomping on a bag of chips and downing a coke on an outside bench.   I wonder how long before she tells him she’s done…with him.

Luckily, I got outta there with my sanity in check.  I bitchslapped no parents and kidnapped no children.   Success!

Maybe I’ll phone the booking agents for “SuperNanny.”   If they spent 30 minutes in that waiting room, they’d never need to hold another open casting call again.

When in America, Do as the Romans?

Wednesday, May 4th, 2011

Pardon me while I depart from my normal Wigglecy-related topics and venture into the taboo realm of politics.

Translation:  Rant ahead.

What the hell is wrong with this country?

Sure, there are the normal indicators of our society turned crackhead:  “Teen Mom,”  internet bullying, Koran burning, cutesey-wootsie-ya-betcha veiled racism…. the list goes on and on.  But this week’s events have shot us straight into the assholeosphere.

Let me preface this by saying I do not heart Osama Bin Laden in the least bit nor do I condone his inhumane means-to-an-end madness.  Yes, Russia, the US and other factious groups have done some shitteously heinous things in that region, but acts of terrorism against innocents aren’t the way to garner sympathy for the cause.   I bet if even Arafat were dug up and Lazarused, he might say “Eh, so terrorism isn’t the best way of winning friends and influencing people.”

Bin Laden was a self-serving, arrogant, trust fund baby who recruited his cult of personality by playing on the poverty, fear and anger of already oppressed people.  He then bastardized a peaceful faith into one that would fit his personal, meglomaniacal agenda.  He died in a mansion while his foot soldiers lived in poverty.  In the end, he didn’t go down in a blaze of glory as he promised.  He hid in his bedroom until the execution squad came for him.

That said, his death is not exactly something that should illicit keg parties and impromptu flagfests.   Want to honor and promote justice  for the 9/11 victims?  Retell their stories.  Instill tolerance in children.  Don’t jump around a public square like a drunken jackass at an Olympic hockey event.  This isn’t Ancient Rome, where toga-clad crowds cheered as lions tore apart martyrs and criminals alike.

I  really hope the Obama administration doesn’t release the post-mortem photos.  Why does anyone really need to see them?  Is it because they don’t believe Bin Laden is dead?  If that’s the case, then they’d be just as apt to dismiss them as Roswellian fakes.  Satisfying morbid curiosity and rewarding bloodlust aren’t reason enough.  Need proof he’s dead?  By all means, go looking for him.  If you find him, more power to ya.  In the end, there are no good reasons to broadcast Bin Laden’s brain-splattered face.

In the meantime, it’s our own face we should try to save.

We can start by acting less like barbaric nationalists and more like civilized human beings.


Friday, May 21st, 2010

It’s the weekend. Finally.

This was such a damn long week that I didn’t get excited about it being Friday until close of business. I got home and opted to veg in front of the tele. NBC’s Nightly News with Bryan Williams was on. I’m kind of a news dork who rarely gets home in time, so I watched the entire newscast featuring two Texas-based stories.

The first focused on the Texas Board of Ed’s mutilation of the state’s public school social studies curriculum. When educators become indoctrinators, there’s a huge issue. Sure, the more conservative will point to the “liberal academia” at universities. But there is a huge difference between a college-age student’s ability to discern bias and that possessed by an 8 year old. This crap only reinforces my pro-private school education stance. Here’s hoping Bill White does make this a successful campaign issue.

The second story was far more light-hearted and promising. Will Farrell’s Minor League pitching stint at a Round Rock Express game was more than a publicity stunt.  He was there to help a friend raise money for a great charity, Cancer for College, that provides scholarships to kiddo cancer survivors.  I heart when entertainers use their celebrity for good rather than for scoring better quality coke.

Well, and Will Farrell totally supports education.  His Pearl ‘o wisdom added a 4th “R” to reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmatic: rent-collecting.  Sure, I know Pearl is a faded meme-ory.

But smack-talkin’ toddlers make me smile.

Just like weekends.

Who the Hell Sold Christmas!?!

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

I know that Christmas seems to come earlier each year as stores slap up Santa displays sometime after the groundhog emerges and before trick-or-treaters pound pavement.

But when I went to Hobby Lobby tonight to buy supplies for my office’s “Deck the Walls” cubical deco-rama, I was shocked.   The rows and rows of Christmas cheer had been pared down to 5 aisles of clearance crap.  In their place were frogs, garden statuary and heinous tributes to Spring.  SPRING!?!  Hell, it snowed last week.

I continued my jolly journey to Lowe’s in search of outdoor lights.  The neighbors’ holiday displays are putting our house to shame.  We need to crush the competition share in the community spirit.  The entire aisle was also in clearance consolidation without so much as a six foot strand of icicles in sight.

I’ve read articles about retailers lowering stock this year to avoid costly inventory obsolescence .  There’s also demand-driving at work.  What the hell?   I demand less Keynes, more Kringle!

So now I’ve had to revise my wish list.

All I want for Christmas… is Christmas!