06 March 2009
Trust not in doctors, they are but mortal . . .
This ties in nicely with the previous post, I think.
The conversation I had with my doctor, whom I really like, during my prenatal check this morning went something like this:
Doctor (D): Wow! Less than one week out!
Me: That's right.
D: Are you ready to be done?
Me: Um . . . well . . . who's to say?
D: Ha, ha! So, when would you like to schedule your induction?
Me: Ah . . . what?
D: I'm going to be leaving for vacation next week, on the 13th. I'd like to deliver you myself, you know? So when would you like to schedule? In case you don't pop before then?
Me: Ah . . . well . . .
D: Tell you what, I'll go ahead and see what the hospital has open and we'll go from there!
D: Well, the hospital is all booked on inductions except for one slot next Tuesday morning. I went ahead and scheduled you for then.
Me: That's the day before I'm due.
D: That's right.
Me: I . . . I'm sorry, but I'm very hesitant to be induced that early.
D: . . .
From there we had a tense, though polite conversation about my thoughts, blah, blah, blah. It was a lot of fun. We ultimately decided to let things progress as they will until at least 41 weeks, whereupon one of the "associates" will induce if necessary. I'm sorry for myself, as of all the doctors I've had I like this one the most. I'm sorry for the doctor, as I'm pretty sure she has the best of intentions, and really does want to deliver her own patients instead of handing them over to the "associates." But . . . seriously?
Let the good times roll.