February 12, 2012 at 9:02 pm | Posted in Grief, hydrops, hydrops fetalis, venting | 13 Comments
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I have been going to the same primary care doctor for forever. I am not sure how many years forever is, but I know it predates my new normal.  The doctor who I usually saw retired before I had Jake. There have been so many other doctors in my life. Obstetricians, perinatologists, infertility specialists, therapists, pediatricians, cardiologists, pathologists, I could go on and on but you get the point. I have only gone to my primary doctor’s office a few times over the past several years. After the doctor I liked retired I would just go to whoever in the group could see me. Starting over with new doctors since Jake and Sawyer have died is emotional and complicated. Explaining my medical history feels extremely daunting.

I never considered switching until yesterday.  Yesterday I saw a doctor I will call “Dr. H.”  His office walls were covered with articles about his medical expertise along with framed awards and diplomas.  I made the appointment because despite my best efforts, I cannot seem to get rid of a persistent cough.  All I really wanted from Dr. H was a prescription.

As he looked into his computer at my file he seemed to be reading my history.  The subject of Jake and Sawyer came up.  Dr. H asked about depression and if my husband and I had looked into therapy.  I responded “I have got depression and therapy covered, thanks.”

Dr. H went on to comment about Jake.  “Ahh, seems that it was failure for nature to correct itself.”

I stared blankly at Dr. H, took my prescription and left. I now wish I had said something back to him but my mind could not process what he said till it was too late.  If nothing else, I should have responded with Ann Taintor’s perfect quote “Funny. . .I don’t recall asking for your opinion”.

As I walked out of the office I looked again at the diplomas on the wall.  Too bad Dr. H never took a compassion 101 course.

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