Part 6: Chapter 6

Doctor Check-up

Photo by Mathieu Stern on Unsplash

Thursday, July 2, 2020
	Took Johnny to his two-year-old checkup today in the tall four-story Presbyterian Inter-community Hospital building. At the entrance, a lady makes us use sanitizer and switch out my cloth mask for their surgical ones. I guess my mask was contaminated?
	Johnny’s doctor, Dr. Wong, speaks to me in an extra-high squeaky voice as if I were a child. She is rather saccharine and sometimes fake giggles at things I say, which drives me bananas. Must consciously stop myself from speaking in a squeaky voice back to her. Attempt to speak honestly in a low slow tone.
	Wish I could know the real Dr. Wong instead of this doctor persona. She’s not married and has no children, but does she behave like this with her siblings and parents? Maybe if she got married and had kids, she would stop acting like a cartoon character. 
	She has me fill out a questionnaire and then inspects Johnny’s eyes, nose, and ears. Johnny refuses to open his mouth even after I take away his paci. He crumbles the tissue paper on the table where he sits and then wants to touch all the outdated doctor’s instruments hanging on the wall beside the table. Why do they have those instruments hanging there? The doctor never uses them and they are temptations for children. This is the pediatric floor after all.
	I struggle to fill out the questionnaire while keeping Johnny from falling off the table or playing with the instruments, and then Dr. Wong places my questionnaire in the nurse’s hands and asks me all the questions again out loud. Does Johnny bounce a ball? Does he take steps one at a time? Does he draw letters with a crayon? Does he say sentences with a subject and verb? Does he talk about himself in the third person? Does he respond to sounds? Does he sleep well? Is he toilet-trained?
	Am beginning to feel annoyed at this point, especially as I must answer no to so many of her questions. No, Johnny doesn’t say much. No, he doesn’t draw or color at all. I would rather not give him crayons while homeschooling my other children. No, he isn’t potty trained. No, we’re not even trying. 
	Wish I could give the doctor a litany of questions for her to answer both in written form and out loud. Questions like: do you have regular social interactions with other adults? How often do you speak in a normal tone of voice? How is your dating life? Why aren’t you dating anyone? Have you tried eHarmony?