Journey to the Center of the Doctor's Office

12:44 PM Posted by Knox McCoy


Taking a baby anywhere
in the winter feels like a time trial on Double Dare. There are blankets, baby carriers to be hustled, cars to be warmed, and tiny little feet to be sock-covered.

But fundamentally, a trip to the doctor feels a bit like Russian Roulette. It's great for the purposes of check-ups and immunizations, but the waiting room presents a formidable gauntlet to a vulnerable immune system.

We went this past Thursday because Rowe didn't seem to be feeling his all-time best. Was the trip necessary? Probably not. But we prefer to err on the side of caution with him so we made the appointment.

The epilogue to this story is that he was fine. Negative for RSV, positive for awesomeness, and confirmed teething. However the main conflict of the story arose from the predicament of the waiting room.

Naive and ignorant as I was before being a father (and still am actually), I did not know that pediatricians segregate their waiting rooms between the sick and the well babies. On the surface, this approach seems suitable. Why expose the healthy babies to the sick ones if it's not necessary?

But what of the babies who are neither totally well or totally sick?

Is it necessary for them to be banished to the sick side where infection and exposure is a certainty? I understand the plight of determining how sick is too sick, but I couldn't stand the thought of Rowe soaking up the buffet spread of germs on the sick side of the room , so while Ashley checked us in, I scampered to the safety of the healthy side. Rowe and I set up in a distant corner of the room so as to avoid detection and skeptical glances. When Ashley returned, we contemplated switching sides and honoring the code of the pediatrician's waiting room.

Our glance to the other side of the room was met with rows of seats that were filled to capacity and saturated with both children and parents alike who were hacking, sneezing, sniffing, and groaning.

Just then, a mother and child burst through the double doors that bisected the waiting room into the sick and healthy halves. With a tone equal parts panicked and stern, she yelled, "GIT YOUR HINEY TO THE RESTROOM, SON!"

The little boy looked like a deer that had somehow ended up in a suburban backyard: Clueless and frantic. Unable to heed his mother's command, he sprayed a brown surge of vomit from the door's entrance to the check-in desk. His spewage had essentially acted as a Berlin Wall of sorts. No one on either side would be crossing over his liquid regurgitations until the sawdust had settled.

I try to avoid misappropriating God's influence in my life to the trivial matters, but at this moment, I felt that God was clearly advising us to stay on the well side. We did, moments later we were summoned to the privacy of our examination room, and Rowe's clean bill of health vanquished me from any feelings of guilt.

Just another trip to the doctor.

3 comments:

The Stones said...

Oh Knox, I really think your blog should be a published journal for all first-time parents to read. Even though Ethan is almost nine years old (Wow...is that possible?), your words about trying to decide which side of the pediatrician's office bring back memories of the same predicament! You are excellent at capturing the little day-to-day moments that only fellow parents can relate to. I always enjoy reading your posts - would it be okay if I share your blog address with others who might enjoy it? Thanks, as always, for taking the time to share with us. The Stones love reading it!

Rhonda Weeks said...

You absolutely crack me up. I can see this whole event unfolding -- thanks for making me feel like I was right there. You have a tremendous gift, Knox.

You two make me smile. Rowe is BLESSED to have you as his Mom & Dad! <3

Anonymous said...

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