doctor, doctor

droopy, sick face (this picture got replaced somehow and i can't put it back -- but the new one is cute too, huh?)

Unlike a lot of people I know, I'm not super mistrustful of the allopathic medical community. I spent a great deal of my childhood hanging around the hospital where my parents worked and have subsequently been on the payrolls of more than one doctor. That being said, a lot of what the practitioners of traditional medicine try to peddle or pull on unwitting patients doesn't impress me. My appreciation for drugs, for the know-how to perform necessary, life saving surgeries: it's totally endless. But, I also laughed in the faces of physician friends who cautioned me against having an out-of-hospital birth. So cute, you guys -- like, if people found out that childbirth isn't scary and horrible and liable to kill you? Yeah, you could forget about that house you're building on Lopez Island. I kid, I kid (no, I don't).

Today, we had to take George to the doctor. He's had a fever for a few days, and just hasn't been himself. George, when he is not himself, is unmistakably not himself. Whining, fussing, gagging, sleeping: that is how he spent his weekend. It was gross and lame and, with no symptoms other than a piping hot forehead and a slightly stronger-than-ordinary gag reflex, difficult to know how to combat except with copious breastmilk and intense cuddling. Which wasn't really working. Cue most awesome doctor ever. 

We really hit the jackpot with our doctor. I wanted to have a real family doctor, not a pediatrician, and our insurance doesn't leave us with many options. Unashamedly using my connections, we managed to get on the roster of a doctor that wasn't accepting new patients, but was willing to take a chance on us, despite the lackluster reimbursement schedule that came along. We took a chance on her, as well, knowing only her name and that her hair is curly. Nothing of her philosophies, her appreciation (or lack thereof) for the homeopathic or whether or not she thinks attached parents are idiots. Well, like I said: super lotto jackpot. 

Without mention of the near-complete Sears library that sits on our bookshelves, she suggested that we split up George's shots to minimize trauma ("no baby needs five pokes in one day!"), she recommended skipping the flu shot altogether, since he's low risk, and has been such a vocal champion of our breastfeeding relationship, never once asking if I'm weaning or considering it. 

Today, as I held my droopy, floppy, hot little baby and she looked in his ears, his throat, listened to his chest and pulse, she scratched her head. Nathan's been sick, I'd told her, but none of his symptoms were echoed in George.

"You know why?" she asked. 

Huh-uh. 

"My best guess? Your milk is keeping those symptoms at bay. I bet if he'd weaned, he'd be sick as a dog. You're a great team! Go, George and Mom!" At this point, she hoisted his arm into the air and pumped his fist; did I mention that I love this woman?

She asked for a urine sample, just to be sure the culprit wasn't a sneaky bladder infection. She gave us two options: try to pee into the receptacle, or just catheterize him. What? Catheter? Um, no. My kid can pee freely as he pleases, thanks. She warned that no patient of hers under 16 months had ever been able to produce a clean sample this way, and I said we'd give it a whirl anyhow. Fifteen minutes of standing pantsless later, she had her pee. She apologized:

"I have to commend you on approaching that with so much patience and consideration. Most parents tell me right off to cath their kids, and the rest give up after taking the cup home. I'm going to brag about you guys to the whole office!"

I stored her words away, not (only) to remind myself that I am truly the Best Parent To Ever Live, but so I can recount to others her flexibility, her humility and commitment to what's best for her patients. She's an example of an allopathic doctor who isn't in it solely for the money, who doesn't question my hippie tactics, who supports my choices and takes my experience into account. And I know she isn't the only one like her. Tonight, we're all feeling better: George's fever is gone and I'm confident in my decisions that are, thankyouverymuch, backed up not only by hippies the world over, but by someone who spent a really long time in college. Go team, indeed (and here's to you, Dr. Jacobs!). 

p.s. Is that "Doctor, Doctor" song about a guy who's in love with his doctor? If so, hilarious!