Just in case I decide to sue someone’s ass later on down the road, I’m not going to say too much about the doctor’s appointment on Friday. Just that we’ll be finding a new pediatrician, STAT. And that we have to repeat all of the blood tests that Eli has already had. Which means I held my baby down while they drew his blood for NOTHING and every time I repeat that little tidbit of information to anyone my voice gets high and I feel the rage coming on, so that’s fun. Oh, Cystic Fibrosis has come up for a THIRD time and I am really really so very tired of having that conversation, so hopefully we’ll be ruling that out for once and for all.
I am very glad we went to the specialist, but I am very pissed off at our pediatrician, and I’m a little pissed off at myself. I know better. I know better than to just listen to the first doctor who comes along. I know better.
The good news is that the specialist looked right at me and said “I don’t care what the test results say, I trust mother’s intuition every time. If this is what you think, then this is what we’re going to do.” Amen to that.
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