here a toe, there a T.O.E.

I might have been in love with my OBGYN back in Pennsylvania. Something like love anyway. Joe was away and Dr. Hans Solo was the man in my life. I carefully prepared for each of my visits with a list of questions and fears for him to assuage and a freshly shaved version of me. I had very little in the way of a social life then so I pretended these appointments were just lunch with a friend and pair of  stirrups. Despite my deep feelings for the doctor, I was all business during our "lunches". As was he. These were professional lunches with professional love. Never was I so lucky in medicine.

Fast forward to now during my second pregnancy here in Okinawa. My doctor, Dr. Bytheway, is not Dr. Solo. He is a family practice doctor with questionable social skills. Or is it me with those poor social skills? I always leave his office wondering exactly where things took that turn for the weird. Was it him? Was it me? For the sake of my sanity, I blame him.

There was the time that I asked him if he'd be there in case of a c-section. I meant in the operating room. I didn't suspect he'd be performing the c-section with his family practice degree. I just wanted to know if he would be the attending doctor. I was mostly hoping he wouldn't. Then I might have chosen to have another c-section. Anyway, he told me in all seriousness that he'd need more training to perform a section. Yeah. I. hope. so.

So yesterday there I was getting my blood pressure taken and getting weighed by an excruciatingly awkward male orderly. This boy strips me of empathy. Each time we do this dance he asks if I'd prefer to have a woman listen for the heartbeat and measure the height of my fundus. That is to say that he'd prefer not to do it. I have never let him off the hook. It's his job, sweaty palms and all. He's looking at the stretch of me below the boobs and above the pubes. It's no big whoop. He did and he survived the terror of actual skin to skin contact for seconds on end. He left me in a chair, without empathy, waiting for Dr. Bytheway.

I didn't go to Dr. Bytheway for my 30 week check-up. He was not available and I took the opportunity to see another doctor. During that illicit appointment with another doctor, I shared a pressing toe issue. It goes numb. This was totally unrelated to pregnancy but I'm under the impression that these doctors know a little about everything so while I'm listening to Henry's hearbeat I can also divulge my minor aches and pains and get feedback. He got up close to my toe, wiggled it, bent it and told me he'd put in a referral to the podiatrist. All was good.

It's clear that Dr. Bytheway doesn't read my file before walking into the room. He didn't even realize I had been to the hospital last week although I could see the sonogram pictures and hospital report on his lap. He went on to say that the OTHER doctor had put in a referral for some Trial of Emergency. I cocked my head, furrowed my brow, showered him in question marks. He went on about what a great idea it was to have a T.O.E. because then I can weigh the pros and cons of a VBAC versus another c-section and on and ON. I let him talk and agreed that the T.O.E. did sound spectacular. And I also mentioned that really the referral had been for my toe like one of the ten digits attached to my feet.

Snafu aside, his talk about the T.O.E. charmed me. Upon returning home I promptly called to make my very own T.O.E. appointment. I asked for the appointment by name, a name no one had heard of it turns out. No one except for Dr. Bytheway.

Six weeks until this man delivers Henry. Oh, Henry.

Comments

[Marie]

LOL! I love the way you tell a story. If Dr. B delivers, make sure he doesn't take your toe.

[Raehan]

Six weeks away?! Unbelievable.

This post reminds me a little of Robin Williams playing the doctor in Nine Months. Did you see that?