PEDIATRICS
by 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......
|