Let's just say that as I'm typing this, my teeth are very, very clean right now.
We had an appointment this morning with George. I dragged Brian with me since whenever he's there, George treats me with more patience and is not as quick to run out the door. Maybe I've been watching too much Mad Men, but I'm really getting sick of being glossed over by doctors while they communicate with Brian and only briefly glance at me. Um, if I weren't there, there would be no appointment. Please address me, not my husband. But for whatever reason, Brian seems to command this respect that I cannot muster, hence the need for his presence. Yes, I'm enabling the situation, but quite frankly, I'm too tired to fight against it anymore. And besides, I'm practically near tears most of the time, and I don't want to shoot myself in the foot by (gasp) crying again during appointment.
So George pretty much didn't give us any addition news. In fact, he disputed the evidence we already had. According to George (who's Native American name would be "He-Who-Does-Not-Read-the-Chart"), our baby is not as large as we think, because "our" definition of big doesn't match his definition of big. Um, okay. So I asked him his definition of "big." To which he replied, "Greater than 9.5 to 10lbs." Okay, that was my definition, too. Where's the problem?
The problem, according to George, is that our baby is in the 82% of growth charts, not the 98%. Okay, that's fine. I mean, we are only repeating what we were told by Dick. He also was quick to point out my last growth scan was "over four weeks ago" and I should be due for another "any day now." I replied by saying, "No, it was less than two weeks ago [July 30], and my next one is not scheduled for another two weeks." He replied, "Yes, that's what I just said." Wait, what?
Obviously, George cannot predict when this child will arrive, and I don't expect him to. But I what I don't expect is for his information to completely contradict what we've been told by the specialist. Per George, I may be pregnant for a very long time (think beginning of September and beyond). Per Dick, I should be giving birth this weekend. Can we just get on the same page here? Can the two of them talk as not to confuse the already-crazy pregnant lady? George went as far as to suggest that I might never go into labor, and we'll have to schedule a c-section or induction in a few weeks. Huh? And, he was quick to point out that "110lb women have delivered 10lb babies with two pushes." Okay, I don't really care about anecdotal information, I care about what you think about MY particular case. But that would require reading the chart, which is clearly beyond his capabilities.
George also seems to believe that ProCardia is the Xanax of pregnancy. I asked if I could stop the meds, to which he replied, "It's up to you. It's really just for your comfort." Um, Dick has been fairly clear that this is necessary to prevent labor. I know ProCardia doesn't stop true labor, but it does stop the contractions that shorten the cervix that cause the bigger contractions that are true labor. So...huh? Do you understand my confusion??
I don't know what to think about any of this. He didn't even measure my fundal height (size of the uterus) or palpate the baby. According to him, "there's too much fluid, so it's not accurate anyways." And then he was quick to point out, I'm "just big." Thanks, doc. Is that your definition or mine?
I think he could tell I was getting frustrated, so he offered this empathetic response: "If you think you are frustrated, imagine what it's like for us. We have over 200 patients; we'd love to be able to tell people when they are due." ARGH! Yes, becuase that is exactly what I needed to hear. I mean, this is only my body, my comfort, my child, and my life. Heaven forbid your weekend plans are interrupted by one of us pesky pregnant ladies who decided to give birth during your tee time. I can't imagine his level of discomfort over not knowing.
He did end the appointment on an up note - the sports analogy. "We're only in the first quarter of the game." I had to suppress a smile as not to appear rude, especially after that last blog entry about sports analogies.
So, whatever. We have no new information today than what we had yesterday. I hope I don't come off as a control freak, because not knowing isn't the biggest thing that is bugging me. My frustration is having to see two doctors that are clearly not communicating and in turn, giving me conflicting reports. Just get on the same page and my blood pressure will go down.
I see Dick tomorrow, so hopefully we can get this cleared up. He's a pretty straight shooter.
We had an appointment this morning with George. I dragged Brian with me since whenever he's there, George treats me with more patience and is not as quick to run out the door. Maybe I've been watching too much Mad Men, but I'm really getting sick of being glossed over by doctors while they communicate with Brian and only briefly glance at me. Um, if I weren't there, there would be no appointment. Please address me, not my husband. But for whatever reason, Brian seems to command this respect that I cannot muster, hence the need for his presence. Yes, I'm enabling the situation, but quite frankly, I'm too tired to fight against it anymore. And besides, I'm practically near tears most of the time, and I don't want to shoot myself in the foot by (gasp) crying again during appointment.
So George pretty much didn't give us any addition news. In fact, he disputed the evidence we already had. According to George (who's Native American name would be "He-Who-Does-Not-Read-the-Chart"), our baby is not as large as we think, because "our" definition of big doesn't match his definition of big. Um, okay. So I asked him his definition of "big." To which he replied, "Greater than 9.5 to 10lbs." Okay, that was my definition, too. Where's the problem?
The problem, according to George, is that our baby is in the 82% of growth charts, not the 98%. Okay, that's fine. I mean, we are only repeating what we were told by Dick. He also was quick to point out my last growth scan was "over four weeks ago" and I should be due for another "any day now." I replied by saying, "No, it was less than two weeks ago [July 30], and my next one is not scheduled for another two weeks." He replied, "Yes, that's what I just said." Wait, what?
Obviously, George cannot predict when this child will arrive, and I don't expect him to. But I what I don't expect is for his information to completely contradict what we've been told by the specialist. Per George, I may be pregnant for a very long time (think beginning of September and beyond). Per Dick, I should be giving birth this weekend. Can we just get on the same page here? Can the two of them talk as not to confuse the already-crazy pregnant lady? George went as far as to suggest that I might never go into labor, and we'll have to schedule a c-section or induction in a few weeks. Huh? And, he was quick to point out that "110lb women have delivered 10lb babies with two pushes." Okay, I don't really care about anecdotal information, I care about what you think about MY particular case. But that would require reading the chart, which is clearly beyond his capabilities.
George also seems to believe that ProCardia is the Xanax of pregnancy. I asked if I could stop the meds, to which he replied, "It's up to you. It's really just for your comfort." Um, Dick has been fairly clear that this is necessary to prevent labor. I know ProCardia doesn't stop true labor, but it does stop the contractions that shorten the cervix that cause the bigger contractions that are true labor. So...huh? Do you understand my confusion??
I don't know what to think about any of this. He didn't even measure my fundal height (size of the uterus) or palpate the baby. According to him, "there's too much fluid, so it's not accurate anyways." And then he was quick to point out, I'm "just big." Thanks, doc. Is that your definition or mine?
I think he could tell I was getting frustrated, so he offered this empathetic response: "If you think you are frustrated, imagine what it's like for us. We have over 200 patients; we'd love to be able to tell people when they are due." ARGH! Yes, becuase that is exactly what I needed to hear. I mean, this is only my body, my comfort, my child, and my life. Heaven forbid your weekend plans are interrupted by one of us pesky pregnant ladies who decided to give birth during your tee time. I can't imagine his level of discomfort over not knowing.
He did end the appointment on an up note - the sports analogy. "We're only in the first quarter of the game." I had to suppress a smile as not to appear rude, especially after that last blog entry about sports analogies.
So, whatever. We have no new information today than what we had yesterday. I hope I don't come off as a control freak, because not knowing isn't the biggest thing that is bugging me. My frustration is having to see two doctors that are clearly not communicating and in turn, giving me conflicting reports. Just get on the same page and my blood pressure will go down.
I see Dick tomorrow, so hopefully we can get this cleared up. He's a pretty straight shooter.
RSS Feed