“Those stupid country doctors …”
This was a comment made by Gray’s new pediatrician today as he was examining my son and giving him a renewal on some much needed anti-anxiety medicine. It kind of made me giggle, because the bad part? It’s very true.
The story? Last month, when I moved back to Mississippi from Georgia, I took my son to a doctor’s office here in the town where we live. Now think of this, I live in a town that is less than 4,000 souls. I grew up around this town because it’s where my dad and my grandparents are from, and the town has never grown.
Going to this particular doctor’s office is common practice, because he’s the nearest one in about a good 40 minute radius. Don’t get me wrong, he is a very good doctor for when you’re sick or just need a general check up. Not so good when you have a special needs kid. I was told after they did last month’s refill on my son’s medicines to seek out a different pediatrician.
Exact words: “This office is not equipped and not comfortable in treating your son and his current needs.”
Pissed me off a little bit, but at least they were honest. Most small doctor’s offices are not equipped to handle children like my son outside of the sniffles.
It’s taken me a month, almost the full amount of the current medication refill, to find my son a pediatrician willing to even see him with the type of insurance that he currently has. This particular pediatrician and office took care of my son during the first year of his life until he first started having seizures. Once he was referred out of their office for other services, they also weren’t equipped to see him at that time.
But this time around … they are. And I’m very thankful, because it is a competent and compassionate doctor that my son does best around. So thank you to this particular doctor for the treatment of my son and the giggles, too.