| PEDIATRICSby Ben Dobson
 
 Having recently taken a course on the "Fundamentals of Interpersonal 
    Communication," my observational pleasure of observing people at the 
    physician's office has only compounded itself. Now, when people behave like 
    morons, I can actually attach a formal diagnosis to their disorders, such 
    as "My, that mother suffers from fundamental attribution error," 
    or "That father simply polarizes the ethnocentrism that had led to his 
    negative interpretations of his wait here amongst the rest of the in-group 
    members."Yes, I am waddling in pure delight, as you might imagine. And, 
    as one patient told me this summer, "Life is like a hemorrhoid. You never know when it's going to erupt...." Classy. I felt bad that we didn't have any pediatric samples of "Tucks" 
    to offer her. As I think I just demonstrated, some of the things I witnessed 
    during this latest stint have left me glad that I don't have any children 
    that I know about. We begin this year with a story of a mother. A woman who has made it into 
    this essay since its first edition in January, 1998. She arrived surprisingly 
    peaceful for an 11:30 am appointment. Soon after the receptionist turned her 
    back to take care of another matter, this mom strolled right up to the desk. 
    She removed the stack of pink sheets (designating a patient's place in the 
    queue) from her doctor's bin and started looking for her place in line. A 
    good three or four people witnessed this, including some shocked patients 
    in the waiting room itself. Maybe their jaws dropped because this woman had 
    such blatant disrespect for patient confidentiality. When confronted about 
    the matter, she first denied any involvement. When told that there were eyewitnesses, 
    she conceded, "Oh.... yeah.... well... yeah," and chased after her miscreant son. I think that the balls on these people 
    have been reinforced with titanium steel. I have found that people, especially house-bound mothers, like to talk. To 
    me. About their problems. A sampling: "My daughter just sneezed boogies all over the car."  "My child won't talk to me because he likes clowns and I don't."  "I think I must have forgotten to have my tubes tied."  "My husband doesn't like the smell of our baby's poopie."  (Mom to the child:) "The doctor's office is where grown-ups work. But 
    most of them aren't as smart as the doctors." There seems to be a fundamental need for prompting. In other words, if something 
    is not suggested, a parent will stand motionless (glaze-eyed and comatose) 
    in a state of "patient equilibrium" which can only be changed when 
    an office staffer suggests an idea to them. For example: Patients need to be prompted to make their next appointment. Then half of 
    those will assume that we automatically make their follow-up and well visits 
    for them. That, of course, makes perfect sense in the "patient equilibrium:" 
    We are sorcerers capable of magic by which we automatically book them an appointment 
    that fits seamlessly into their lives without ever asking them first. Right. Patients need to be prompted to make their co-payment. The line to check-out 
    may be eight bodies long. But none will have their payment ready when they 
    get to the front of the line. I'll take their bill, glance down and up, and 
    uh oh ... the patient has lapsed into "patient equilibrium" once 
    again. They will just stand there until I casually suggest, "Do you have a co-pay?" To the patient's sudden amazement (I think the idea of a co-pay shocks fully 
    2/3 of our patient body) they do. And that instigates a flurry of activity 
    of either digging out crinkled bills or writing out check. Meanwhile, the 
    line has grown to ten people, and no one else seems to have any clue that 
    I am going to ask for money... Patients need prompting to care for their children. A baby will have a gushing 
    head wound. But the equilibrium kicks in, and a patient will do nothing until 
    we tell them to go get stitches. And that is only for the smart ones who prompted 
    themselves to call in the first place. I also get a kick out of those who think I am their doctor. For example, 
    when booking an appointment, a patient went into a whole long story about 
    how their child's finger had a "shaft prismoid in form and curved longitudinally 
    on the metacarpal bones." At that point, I smile and ask "Are mornings or afternoons better for that re-check?" But in general, the average patient is filled with questions rather than 
    medical terminology. Usually, they come up to the counter bug-eyed and eager 
    with questions that they fear might be "dumb." And it is our never-ending 
    job to reassure them that they are only doing the right thing by asking. Now, 
    we are entering my first interactive essay. I will provide you with the genuine 
    question (some of you may have already answered it! No cheating!!) and you 
    provide me with the answer. It may be serious or comical. You simply must 
    be able to say it non-judgementally in real life. I am looking forward to 
    your responses, and I will post my favorites here later. A selection: "Is it natural for me to want to shake my baby?" "Are green stool samples good?" from anonymous@williams.edu: "That's just not right." "Is pee safe enough to drink in case my daughter accidentally drinks 
    her sample?" "I won't have to pay my co-pay if I don't pay today, right?" "To take my baby's temperature, where is this so-called rectum'?" "Why doesn't my insurance company like me?" "Is a long wait here considered more than five minutes?" "If it takes two weeks to fill out a camp form, when do you think it 
    will be done?" Then there is the patient who told us that "If you fill out my camp 
    form so I can have it today so I can bring it in early, I get a $5 rebate 
    off of the camp's tuition!" Too bad there wasn't anything in it for us! Finally, our robust economy has managed to create wealth. Especially for 
    some of the patients surrounding one of our offices. They tend to be "snooty." 
    As a matter of fact, I have heard of one dad who apparently doesn't trust 
    our pen and ink filing system. He prefers to get in everybody's way taking 
    notes on his child's height, weight and blood pressure, and subsequently entering 
    them straight into his Palm Pilot. And never forget the patient who "...is 
    very wealthy, and can't be kept waiting." Oh, but that was two years 
    ago. With the double-digit gains in the stock market lately, I'd imagine she's 
    "extravagantly wealthy" now. Oh, just wait for the next recession, sister. That's it for this round. Good 
    luck in the fall. The viruses should really be out in force, what with that 
    nasty West-Nile Virus in the neighborhood. Enjoy fielding those questions...... 
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