Dr. Shit for Brains

We had a wonderful pediatrician before we moved. Unfortunately, we moved when Baby was about three months old, so we had to leave a practice where we felt comfortable and find someone new to care for our child. I called Anthem soon after we moved, and they directed me to a doctor who seemed to be running an inner city clinic for children without health insurance. Since Husband and I didn't feel comfortable driving through the Bronx to get to the pediatrician's office, we decided we'd find a different practice. We may have been better sticking with the do-gooder in the ghetto.

Exhibit A: We called the new practice to set up Baby's four month well visit. We requested a specific doctor, and the receptionist said, "Well, we can either get you in with Doctor Shit for Brains tomorrow, or in three weeks." Baby needed his shots, so we said tomorrow. We drove an hour to pick up his medical records from the old pediatrician's office, had an episode in which Baby shit through his outfit, and listened to him scream for most of both legs of the journey. It was great. When we got to the doctor's office the next afternoon, we didn't actually see the doctor; we saw the nurse practitioner. I've nothing against nurse practitioners; however, I'm not one who enjoys surprises. Husband and I rearranged our schedule in order to be able to see Doctor SFB, and I expected that we'd see Dr. SFB. Nurse practitioner was very brisk with Baby, writing a prescription for Pepcid almost before the words "spit up" were out of my mouth. She advocated letting him cry himself to sleep and discouraged me from trying to pump at work or give Baby solids. I was uneasy, but I decided I was just being a little over-sensitive.
Exhibit B: This is a semi-neutral experience. Baby started shaking-convulsing when I fed him his bottle. Because of my family history of epilepsy, I was a little concerned (freaking out), and Husband called the pediatrician. They told us to come right in, so we did. After waiting an hour, we saw a different nurse practitioner. She was very good with Baby, asked us lots of questions, and helped get us in for an EEG the next day. She called twice and had Dr. SFB call us, even though he'd never met us before. My concerns from the previous visit were slightly relieved.
Exhibit C: A week or so after the EEG incident, Baby started coughing. He sounded like a smoker and was cranky; he's usually a very happy baby. Husband called the pediatrician's office, and the nurse who spoke with him blew him off, saying something along the lines of "babies cough." Then she continued, "sometimes mucus from the birth gets stuck in their lungs and takes awhile to come out." She didn't even let Husband say that Baby was five months old at that point and was delivered via C-section.
Exhibit D: Baby's cough got worse. And worse. And his temperature went up. Since it was a Friday night, we called the after hours line, and the recording said their office opened at 9 a.m. for sick visits. By 8:40, we were waiting in the parking lot. We thought it odd that people kept walking in with sick children, but we knew what the recording said, and waited in the car. Around 8:40 we thought maybe they unlock the doors early, so we went in. The receptionist said that while patients are not guaranteed to see a doctor until 9, they can come in as early as 8. It would have been nice to know that, seeing as how we were supposed to be somewhere else that morning. After waiting an hour with a happy but green-snotted baby, we saw a doctor. She was very nice, seemed surprised that Baby was not yet eating solids, took her time, and answered our questions. He had a sinus infection, so she wrote him a prescription and sent us on our way. Our visit with her made us reconsider switching practices.
Exhibit E: Baby threw up at daycare. He hadn't really seemed like himself that morning, and I worried, but we took him to daycare anyway. Husband emailed me at work to see if he could drop Baby off, since he hadn't done his work for class that afternoon. I made arrangements for my students and rushed over to the pediatrician's office. After waiting only 30 minutes this time, I actually saw Dr. SFB. Dr. SFB was being shadowed by a medical student that day. I explained the vomiting to Dr. SFB, and I also expressed my concerns about my child's apparent smoking habit. Dr. SFB seemed unconcerned about Baby's vomiting, took one look in the diaper and told me Baby had a yeast infection and thrush. The yeast infection had come from the antibiotics he'd been given for his sinus infection. He wrote me a prescription for some yeast killers and tried to escape the room. "But what about his formula?" I asked. "Daycare wanted me to ask about his formula."
"Oh, it's fine," Dr. SFB said, sprinting for the door.
"Okay, well is he throwing up because of the combination of formula and breastmilk? Cause my friend's baby had trouble with both."
"No, that's fine." His hand was on the doorknob and sweat beads were forming since he'd been with a patient for more than five minutes. "Wait, you're still putting him to the breast?" he asked.
"Yup," I replied proudly and expected to be hailed for my commitment to my child's well being, even if it was by doing something I hate and feel uncomfortable about.
"Okay, well, then you've got it too," he said, quickly told me to see my doctor and headed out the door.
Exhibit F: Baby's six month well checkup. This appointment, although made in July, was rescheduled twice. We'd decided we were pretty much done with this practice, but we wanted to keep the appointment and get Baby his shots. When Baby and I arrived I requested a medical records release form. I had to write my reason for requesting the records, so I wrote "We are likely leaving the practice, but are unsure." I was ushered into a room after a 30 minute wait, and the nurse said, "I'm sorry, this is part of my job, but I have to ask why you are thinking of leaving us." I explained that we felt like our concerns hadn't been acknowledged, we'd felt like we'd been blown off, etc. She listened, and apologized, and said she understood. She told me Dr. SFB would be with me shortly, and after about 20 minutes, he was. He introduced himself, and asked if there was anything I especially wanted him to check out. I mentioned the rash on Baby's back and also asked him for tips on getting my child to stop smoking. He promptly looked in Baby's ears and said, "Oh, he's got an ear infection." I'm not sure how I didn't blurt out "You're completely shitting me, right?" He finished checking over Baby-it took all of 30 seconds, told me to get him dressed, and said he'd let me know when we could talk in his office. 20 minutes later his nurse led me into the office. I waited for five minutes with an increasingly fussy baby. He asked me several questions, and then spent the rest of the visit asking me to explain why we were likely leaving the practice. I explained what had happened up until that point, and said that it just seemed like maybe the practice was a little over-extended. He aptly said, "Well, if you feel like your concerns aren't being met..." I explained how Husband got completely blown off by the nurse he'd spoken to, and Dr. SFB said, "Oh, but he did actually talk to someone?" Yes, because since he actually spoke with someone, everything is hunky-dory. "Well, if there's anything I can do," Dr. SFB repeated over and over again, as he practically hoisted me and Baby out the door. "Oh, and he can't get his shots today, cause of his ears. So you'll have to come back in a couple weeks, and we'll check his ears and give him his shots then." I asked if I needed an appointment, and Dr. SFB said, "No, it's just a walk-in thing." I said, "Well, what about the rash on his back?"
"Oh, that's fine. Babies get rashes," Dr. SFB replied. "Oh, wait," he continued. "I didn't actually look at it." He pulled down Baby's onesie, glanced at the rash, and reaffirmed that it was fine.
Exhibit G: Husband took Baby in to the pediatrician's office to get his ears checked and his shots. The lab technician blew him off, was rude, and muttered under her breath "Thinks he can just walk in here. 4:30 on a Friday afternoon." Husband explained that Dr. SFB told us that we just needed to walk in, but she'd hear nothing of it.

So yeah, we're pissed. Pissed to the point of not only switching practices, but of somehow formally complaining. I went ahead and made an appointment with a new pediatrician at a different practice, so Baby can re-have his six-month check up. While it's likely that everything is fine, I'm not at all comfortable with the level of care he's received. I'm willing to shell out the $25 copay just for some peace of mind. Husband said he hasn't ever received customer service this poor, not even at McDonald's. I hope the new doctor works out, and if Dr. SFB is out there, I say a resounding Fuck you and your crappy ass medical care. I know my child isn't important to the random stranger, but it's your fucking job to treat him as though he is.