Monday, August 27, 2007

Six Months Means Three Shots

Surprise! Happy half birthday, Squeaker! Guess what we got you?

A doctor’s appointment! Yea!

The good news is that she’s in the 25th percentile for weight and head size and in the 75th percentile for length. I must say, I’m a little surprised. Both of her parents are on the short side and I’ve got a HUGE noggin.

Seriously, it’s like an orange on a toothpick.

The bad news is she had to get a round of shots - the DTaP, Hib, and Polio.

Whether she’s getting shots or drawing blood, the doctor is always sticking her. Well, that’s not fair. The nurse has to be the heavy with the needle.

Now, while I did not actually take The Squeaker to the doctor, I do get the play-by-play from P.Pie. And it makes me think, is it any wonder why we grow up loathing trips to the doctor’s office?

My fear/dislike of the doctor has kept me from going to the doctor on more than one occasion. Once, when I was 28 and living in LA, I had an ear infection and a fever of 102 degrees. I was miserable, but I knew I could get over it if I just waited it out.

Did I go to the doctor to get over it? Well, actually yes.

But not before I was hallucinating and left a Rob-shaped sweat outline on my bed. Yuck. I was miserable, but I would have rather been miserable than go to the doctor (in the end, the doctor just gave me some pills and sent me on my way).

Doctors need better PR. Maybe doctors should have monthly parties with pony rides, balloons, and cake. So when Mom and/or Dad say, “We’re going to the doctor’s office” you get excited at the thought of a potential pony ride.

Surely that would transfer to your adult life.

In fact, for adults, doctors could have cocktail parties for their patients. Maybe even with passed hor d’oeuvres.

Wouldn’t you love going to the doctor if they had passed hor d’oeuvres?