Let me start out by saying that I really loved my doctor. He was my OB when I was pregnant and he was our pediatrician ever since Roman was born. He's got great bedside manner, he's personable, and he always make you feel like a million bucks.
That being said, with the events that have transpired since Roman's birth, I think I might have to switch doctors.
It all started with Roman's first Well Baby visit to the doctor one week after he was born. We expected to have the circumcision done during that visit because, well, that is what our doctor told us would happen, since he was not able to perform it while we were at the hospital. The appointment was scheduled for 4 pm. When we arrived, we were told the doctor had just been called out to deliver a baby. We would have to see another doctor.
"Will that doctor perform the circumcision during this visit?" we asked. We were told that Well Baby visits are never combined with Procedures and that we'd have to make a separate appointment. A minor annoyance, but we dealt with it.
We sat down in the waiting room and waited. And waited. And no one called our name. By 5:30, we were the only people left waiting in the waiting room. We thought for sure they would call our name soon.
6:00 rolled around, and a nurse noticed us sitting there. She asked the lady at the front desk, "Is there a folder for this patient?" They had forgotten to put Roman's folder out, so the nurses didn't know there was anyone they needed to call into the back. We could have been seen much earlier, but because of the mistake we were kept waiting for two hours.
When we were finished with the doctor, we came back out front to schedule his circumcision and 2 week Well Baby visit. The lady at the front desk that was helping me didn't know the answer to one of my questions, so she went into the back to ask one of the nurses. Meanwhile, Roman is screaming at the top of his lungs because he hasn't eaten since before we left home (2 and a half hours prior). I could hear her and the nurses chatting and giggling loudly about something that happened in one of their personal lives. She stayed back there chatting and didn't come back to the front desk for a full ten minutes, while I was left with a screaming, starving newborn.
Because Roman was born with an obvious skull malformation, which is believed to be craniosynistosis (but may or may not be more than that), we were told we needed to see a plastic surgeon. So we drove all the way up to Primary Childrens in Salt Lake City, paid our $30 copay, and met Dr. Siddiqi, who told us, "I can't really tell what's wrong. His brain might not be growing, but there's no way for me to tell. He needs to see a geneticist. There's nothing I can do until a geneticist has diagnosed him." This was more than a bit of an annoyance, but what could we say or do? Ask for our copay back since this doctor literally did nothing for us? Probably not.
We left the hospital and immediately called our doctor's office to ask that they put in an order for us to see a geneticist. They called us back within the hour and told us that there is a ONE YEAR waiting list to see a geneticist at the Salt Lake City Primary Children's. We told them we would travel anywhere in the country, if another geneticist could see us sooner. A few days later, they called us back and said that the nearest locations without a waiting list are Seattle and Phoenix. One of them would be calling us within the next week or so.
A week later, I received a call from someone at the Seattle Primary Children's Hospital. The lady on the phone asked if Roman had had any genetic testing done. He hadn't. She recommended that he get the genetic testing done and then at that point we should make our way out to Seattle to see the geneticist. She let me know that our primary care doctor needed to order the genetic testing, and that if he had any questions as to exactly which genetic testing needed to be done, he should call the geneticist at Seattle Primary Children's.
So, I called our doctor's office again. I relayed this exact message to the lady with whom I spoke. She asked me for Seattle Primary Children's phone number. I gave it to her, thinking that it would be used for the doctor to call the geneticist so he would know what genetic testing to order.
That phone call happened last Monday. I let a week go by and I never heard from them as to whether or not the order for the genetic testing had been placed. So I called them again yesterday. I asked if the order had been placed; they said yes, there is an order for genetic testing to be performed at Seattle Primary Children's.
"What? No!" by this point, I was exasperated (little did I know this was only the beginning). "I didn't ask for the genetic testing to be performed there, the whole point was to get it done here so that we could have the results already when we speak with the geneticist there." I'd been questioning the competence of the staff at my doctor's office for some time. At this point there was no question in my mind. Completely incompetent. Every last one of them. Every time I speak with them, they mess something else up.
The woman I was speaking with didn't sound the least bit apologetic. "Ok, well you probably should have clarified that when you asked for the doctor's order. What hospital do you want this doctor's order to be sent to?"
"I don't know! You're the medical professionals, right? Do I need to get this done at Primary Children's in Salt Lake? Or Utah Valley Regional in Provo?" Do I have to do everything for these people?
She told me to hang up and find out myself which hospital I should get the blood work done at. Apparently I do have to do everything for these people. I called UVRMC and they said they could do it there. Thank goodness. I called my doctor's office back and got a different lady.
"I was just speaking with Jean. Could I speak with her again since she's familiar with my case?" I was so afraid that someone would mess something else up. And I didn't think I could handle the rage that might stem from within my very core if such an event were to happen. But alas, Jean was unavailable. So I tried to explain my situation to this other person.
"I just need one doctor's order for genetic testing to be performed on my son at UVRMC. And again, if the doctor has any questions about which genetic tests to order, he may call the geneticist at Seattle Primary Children's. And this time, please have someone call me once that order has been placed. Thank you."
A few hours later, someone called back and informed me that the order was at UVRMC. I could now take Roman to get his blood work done.
Which brings us to today.
I made sure his tummy was nice and full. When he was done eating, I put the binky in his mouth (since he's decided he absolutely cannot live without it). I buckled him in his car seat. I put his binky back in his screaming mouth. I tucked a receiving blanket around him to keep him warm. I put his binky back in his hollering mouth again. I grabbed the diaper bag, keys, and phone. Binky back in mouth. I loaded him into the car. Binky. Mouth. Repeat. (Can I just say, traveling with a baby is a thousand times more complicated than doing so without one.)
Once the car was moving, he fell right asleep. He and I drove to Utah Valley Regional Medical Center, laboratory wing. After a short wait, we were called up to Kiosk 1. The woman behind the desk was very nice.
"Roman Keil, right?" she ascertained. "Yes," I replied. Although I was not looking forward to my baby getting poked with a needle and his blood drawn, I was relieved to be taking the first real step toward some answers.
"So, what genetic tests exactly need to be performed?" the woman behind the desk asked me. My heart sank. If the doctor's order had been done correctly, they would KNOW what tests to perform! She showed me the doctor's order form.
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There. On the right. "Genetic Testing". Someone (the doctor? One of his staff?) ordered "Genetic Testing". Nothing specific. No clarification phone call was made to the geneticist in Seattle. Someone was obviously much too busy with more important matters than my child's possibly debilitating HEAD CONDITION that they couldn't spare a few minutes of their time to call the geneticist in Seattle to find out which genetic tests to order. Instead they had to waste MY time since it is clearly less valuable than their own.
In conclusion, I think that was the final straw. No matter how much I loved my doctor, I just don't think that I could possibly bring myself to return there. Maybe I need to find a less busy office. An office that cares more about their patients. To this office I'm just a paycheck. And when I'm not paying (for example, when I call and ask them to perform simple tasks like putting in an order for genetic testing and calling the geneticist if they need to know which tests to order), they couldn't care less about the task and they waste my time by doing it wrong. Time after time. And I'm done. I'm officially fed up.
