She made her son go to the pediatrician often enough that he started noticing how many more times he’d been for a check up than everyone else. When he finally decided to ask his mother about this, she started freezing up, seemingly unable to properly answer his question. What she didn’t want to tell him was that she was afraid the same thing would happen to him like what happened with his father: cancer would creep up out of nowhere and they would be too late to do anything.
There comes a point when talking is no longer an option. Sometimes you just have to walk away, especially after such horrid news is delivered to a person – by you. They don’t want to see your face anymore.
Understand that.
They are supposed to have a special place in their hearts for the little ones and a special understanding for young mothers. I screamed into the phone “my baby just had a seizure. She’s breathing now, but doesn’t seem to know me or her sister.” My daughter’s pediatrician replied.”Stop being hysterical, she was just holding her breath.”
“I’m a nurse, I said. “I know the difference between a seizure and a child holding her breath you condescending prick.
No one knows how awful it is to be a young mother. Not because you lose your freedom but because the people around you assume that’s all you care about. It doesn’t matter that you took your child to the pediatrician for an on and off rattling chest. They are still condescending and judgmental. And the worst part isn’t that you have to deal with it. The worst part is that your daughter will too. “Your mom was HOW old when she had you?”
Peadiatrician.
Do I have to go? are they going to give me a shot? I DON’T WANT A SHOT! I’m not going! Can i have ice cream afterwards? I’m scared! I’m sick mama. I need to go to the doctor. Can I take my pony?
i don’t know anything about this word because i never heard about this and i never went to one as the name says it is about some doctor. i hope i will know about this when i finish writing for 60 seconds
The silence dragged on, and she started to realize she couldn’t stand it. Pediatrics for the foundling silence, that’s what was needed. Before it grew. Before it consumed everything.
Pediatricians strike me as being so pedestrian. Or maybe that is aura of this brand of authority, they’re the calm and steady, they’re the ones who will take you by the hand and lead you across your lifespan, or up until a certain point at least. “Don’t question too much patient, I know what’s best for you. And if I say you don’t have a choice, it’s because I know there are no other options.” And so you’re socialized early to not question certain types of practices. But here’s the rub: if you don’t agree with the diagnosis of one, you are entitled to as many opinions as you want. Somewhere amid the biases and other incorrect assumptions, there’s a truth.
Today I have to take my nephew to the pediatrician.
He said he didn’t wanted to go because he was a little bit scared, and that he hates meds… And then I figured out that he wasn’t just scared. He is 8 years old,
pediatricians can be so dull. All they do is stare at you and tell you your body is funky. Accept, of course, those times when theres ACTUALLY something SERIOUSLY wrong with you. THEN it gets interesting.
her pediatrician peered closely at the pale splotches on her skin. The disease was spreading, but instead of helping her, an eerie grin crossed his face as he went for his phone.
Riley can’t help but think she’s a little overdressed for a pediatrician. Or anyone who spends far more time with children than people their own age for that matter. Still, she can’t deny that there’s something of a motherly vibe to her; at least, the vibe that comes off OTHER people’s mothers. She’s 90% certain her own mother never looked that way. Like she could take care of you, like she WANTED too.
“The last pediatrician I took Hannah to was awful,” grumbled Rachel, scowling behind her half-empty plastic iced coffee cup. “The woman was absolutely incompetent. Incompetent! She told my poor girl at the age of seven that she had a bad heartbeat. She was wearing the stethoscope improperly! Who can even do that?”
She sat uncomfortably, hands shaking and twisting nervously on her lap. She hated doctors visits, and hated being looked at by anyone but herself. She was already incredibly uncomfortable and waiting made it even worse.
i would’ve done anything to save you. i would’ve spent every day fort he first twenty years of your life visiting the pediatrician if it meant having you with me. if it meant keeping you alive, i would’ve done anything or given anything to have you have that chance to live a crazy wonderful life.
My pediatrician stared at me from across an ocean of sorrows. Her eyebrows crinkled and her mouth remained in a tight line, while I felt my own skin turning a dapper shade of pale milk. X-rays don’t lie.
I got to let it go! Rarely do I watch what is happening in front of me. At this point in life, the government’s benevolence provide all that I could dream of. I must let go! All I need to do is be a #pedestrian in this Federal Servanthood. Walk alone. Stay in the lines. Don’t go far or fast. Everything will be given to me. #oneword @oznolem
“Fairly well,” I said in answer to his question. It was not often the pediatrician noticed me unless I was in the way. It was my place to hand over the throat probes and swab their sweating brows.
pediatricians scared me so much when I was a child. I was so terrified of them. and im not sure if everyone my age was. I thought I was a coward. but I also wondered: why would you want to be feared by children?
I never thought I’d get this job. All the years in med school, all the training involved… I seriously thought I’d murder Jackie’s kids after taking care of them so long. But now, now, I can finally say that I’ve done it. I’ve reached my goal, and i can finally say that I am happy now.
though i have the need to see a pediatrician often i realized i don’t trust them. their advice is usually half-hearted. i don’t feel as though they get to know my children on a personal level to diagnose them.
It was what he’d always wanted to do, but yesterday the seeds of doubt had been sewn and grown all in a matter of hours. He remembered her face, young and screwed-up and screaming against the clinical white-and-blue, and then he remembered it soft and still – and now it hung about him like a fug of old smoke, thick and heady and blinding.
No more children. Not after today. Not if she couldn’t stay theirs.
I used to dream of being a pediatrician. I wished nothing more than that. But then I continued onto middle school and high school and I realized it wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to risk it. I could possibly waste 10+ years of my life to find out it was not the career I wanted. So in conclusion- I left my pediatrician dream behind out of fear
Ohara spent almost an hour on the phone with Detective Makita. He thought it would be harder to convince Makita, but he was hooked by the opening question: “Who is the pediatrician?” Ohara had heard other officers referring to the bigshot they were expecting using that codename as he waited in Makita’s office. Kenji and his friend had used the same name for their target.
his hand touches the vein gently, as though it is alive. he feels the ore hidden inside of it, senses an emanation. seeks to strike it with his pickaxe — open the sluice — to let the mineral free.
The pediatrician was kind of sleepy everytime I ttok grace in for a check up we laighed all the time because she slurred her words and always seeme d to be chewing gum to keep hersefl awake. It was only a matter of time before eh fell over
(Crap, I can never remember if this word is the foot doctor, the skin doctor, or the children’s doctor so I wrote this instead)
Skin is supposed to be perfect. They had those pictures of the makeup models, all blown up so you could see every detail of their perfection, their colorful eyeshadow and shiny lips, and most of all their skin painted so thick it almost looked plastic. Why do we have these crazy standards? If we didn’t have all these standards maybe normal people wouldn’t have to wear makeup to be considered beautiful.
Pediatrician. That would be such a difficult job sometimes. Sticking kids with needles, watching them cry and panic. Giving children more pain they can’t understand.
The pediatrician was an elderly gentleman. An old soul with old glasses and an even older haircut. His office, though sterile, was homely, like a grandmother’s parlor. Knick-knacks decorated his desk.
He walked into the small room, waiting for him was a young boy. The boy was coughing, it was allergy season after all. He smiled at the young boy then looked around the corner to greet the boys mother, “Well it seems that Tyler has a slight fever, but it’s nothing to worry about. He just need some over the counter medicine and a lot of bed rest.” Tyler’s mother gave a sigh of relief and thanked him. As Tyler struggled to get off of the exam table he looked up at the pediatrician and smiled, “Thanks mister” Tyler said in a small, timid voice. He smiled at the young boy and picked up his clip board, this was why he loved his job.
Forever ago there was one children’s spin doctor. He’d come around here, often, and just tell our kids to sleep less or play more. And it worked, we all knew it would. Some of the advice he gave was more than obvious. Even a dundering idiot could have thought of them. But his words carried a certain authority that ours did not.
Those people that are always wearing white lab coats to make you FEEL like your medicine is clean. Those places that the children are always impatiently waiting for the white lab coat man to HURRY UP and retrieve the whatever mom needs so they can get on with their fun. That feeling that makes you think you are awfully less smart than the man behind the counter.
When I was young, the pediatrician was able to come to our house if we were sick. My mom could call him on the phone and talk about what was wrong; he could then prescribe medicine from that phone call. Can you even imagine this happening today? There is no personal relationship anymore.
Even though an adult
Still treated as if a child
So why change doctors?
She made her son go to the pediatrician often enough that he started noticing how many more times he’d been for a check up than everyone else. When he finally decided to ask his mother about this, she started freezing up, seemingly unable to properly answer his question. What she didn’t want to tell him was that she was afraid the same thing would happen to him like what happened with his father: cancer would creep up out of nowhere and they would be too late to do anything.
a saviour for kids
There comes a point when talking is no longer an option. Sometimes you just have to walk away, especially after such horrid news is delivered to a person – by you. They don’t want to see your face anymore.
Understand that.
The touch of small hands, the cries of a tiny soul, and the wonder of young life — every day, new faces yet old, good feelings.
They are supposed to have a special place in their hearts for the little ones and a special understanding for young mothers. I screamed into the phone “my baby just had a seizure. She’s breathing now, but doesn’t seem to know me or her sister.” My daughter’s pediatrician replied.”Stop being hysterical, she was just holding her breath.”
“I’m a nurse, I said. “I know the difference between a seizure and a child holding her breath you condescending prick.
No one knows how awful it is to be a young mother. Not because you lose your freedom but because the people around you assume that’s all you care about. It doesn’t matter that you took your child to the pediatrician for an on and off rattling chest. They are still condescending and judgmental. And the worst part isn’t that you have to deal with it. The worst part is that your daughter will too. “Your mom was HOW old when she had you?”
Peadiatrician.
Do I have to go? are they going to give me a shot? I DON’T WANT A SHOT! I’m not going! Can i have ice cream afterwards? I’m scared! I’m sick mama. I need to go to the doctor. Can I take my pony?
i don’t know anything about this word because i never heard about this and i never went to one as the name says it is about some doctor. i hope i will know about this when i finish writing for 60 seconds
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Oh.”
The silence dragged on, and she started to realize she couldn’t stand it. Pediatrics for the foundling silence, that’s what was needed. Before it grew. Before it consumed everything.
Pediatricians strike me as being so pedestrian. Or maybe that is aura of this brand of authority, they’re the calm and steady, they’re the ones who will take you by the hand and lead you across your lifespan, or up until a certain point at least. “Don’t question too much patient, I know what’s best for you. And if I say you don’t have a choice, it’s because I know there are no other options.” And so you’re socialized early to not question certain types of practices. But here’s the rub: if you don’t agree with the diagnosis of one, you are entitled to as many opinions as you want. Somewhere amid the biases and other incorrect assumptions, there’s a truth.
fingers in the mouth,
pulling each ‘bad’ out
through the screaming
that god is never watching.
Meds swallow whole brains
and the wavelengths trying to terminate
a morosely-colored mind.
(But they were never mine.)
1pediatrician = providing epsilon diagnosis-prognosis information accentuating the response improving children’s immune-system approving nothing-bad
children curl away from you,
the way you touch their heart.
You care about me, they are told,
but why are you so cold?
how am I to heal?
Today I have to take my nephew to the pediatrician.
He said he didn’t wanted to go because he was a little bit scared, and that he hates meds… And then I figured out that he wasn’t just scared. He is 8 years old,
pediatricians can be so dull. All they do is stare at you and tell you your body is funky. Accept, of course, those times when theres ACTUALLY something SERIOUSLY wrong with you. THEN it gets interesting.
her pediatrician peered closely at the pale splotches on her skin. The disease was spreading, but instead of helping her, an eerie grin crossed his face as he went for his phone.
Riley can’t help but think she’s a little overdressed for a pediatrician. Or anyone who spends far more time with children than people their own age for that matter. Still, she can’t deny that there’s something of a motherly vibe to her; at least, the vibe that comes off OTHER people’s mothers. She’s 90% certain her own mother never looked that way. Like she could take care of you, like she WANTED too.
“The last pediatrician I took Hannah to was awful,” grumbled Rachel, scowling behind her half-empty plastic iced coffee cup. “The woman was absolutely incompetent. Incompetent! She told my poor girl at the age of seven that she had a bad heartbeat. She was wearing the stethoscope improperly! Who can even do that?”
She sat uncomfortably, hands shaking and twisting nervously on her lap. She hated doctors visits, and hated being looked at by anyone but herself. She was already incredibly uncomfortable and waiting made it even worse.
i would’ve done anything to save you. i would’ve spent every day fort he first twenty years of your life visiting the pediatrician if it meant having you with me. if it meant keeping you alive, i would’ve done anything or given anything to have you have that chance to live a crazy wonderful life.
(rip)
My pediatrician stared at me from across an ocean of sorrows. Her eyebrows crinkled and her mouth remained in a tight line, while I felt my own skin turning a dapper shade of pale milk. X-rays don’t lie.
I got to let it go! Rarely do I watch what is happening in front of me. At this point in life, the government’s benevolence provide all that I could dream of. I must let go! All I need to do is be a #pedestrian in this Federal Servanthood. Walk alone. Stay in the lines. Don’t go far or fast. Everything will be given to me. #oneword @oznolem
“Fairly well,” I said in answer to his question. It was not often the pediatrician noticed me unless I was in the way. It was my place to hand over the throat probes and swab their sweating brows.
pediatricians scared me so much when I was a child. I was so terrified of them. and im not sure if everyone my age was. I thought I was a coward. but I also wondered: why would you want to be feared by children?
I never thought I’d get this job. All the years in med school, all the training involved… I seriously thought I’d murder Jackie’s kids after taking care of them so long. But now, now, I can finally say that I’ve done it. I’ve reached my goal, and i can finally say that I am happy now.
though i have the need to see a pediatrician often i realized i don’t trust them. their advice is usually half-hearted. i don’t feel as though they get to know my children on a personal level to diagnose them.
It was what he’d always wanted to do, but yesterday the seeds of doubt had been sewn and grown all in a matter of hours. He remembered her face, young and screwed-up and screaming against the clinical white-and-blue, and then he remembered it soft and still – and now it hung about him like a fug of old smoke, thick and heady and blinding.
No more children. Not after today. Not if she couldn’t stay theirs.
I used to dream of being a pediatrician. I wished nothing more than that. But then I continued onto middle school and high school and I realized it wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to risk it. I could possibly waste 10+ years of my life to find out it was not the career I wanted. So in conclusion- I left my pediatrician dream behind out of fear
Ohara spent almost an hour on the phone with Detective Makita. He thought it would be harder to convince Makita, but he was hooked by the opening question: “Who is the pediatrician?” Ohara had heard other officers referring to the bigshot they were expecting using that codename as he waited in Makita’s office. Kenji and his friend had used the same name for their target.
his hand touches the vein gently, as though it is alive. he feels the ore hidden inside of it, senses an emanation. seeks to strike it with his pickaxe — open the sluice — to let the mineral free.
The pediatrician was kind of sleepy everytime I ttok grace in for a check up we laighed all the time because she slurred her words and always seeme d to be chewing gum to keep hersefl awake. It was only a matter of time before eh fell over
It reminds me of my childhood, when my mother used to talk about how often I got sick as a baby and how worried she was when it happened.
(Crap, I can never remember if this word is the foot doctor, the skin doctor, or the children’s doctor so I wrote this instead)
Skin is supposed to be perfect. They had those pictures of the makeup models, all blown up so you could see every detail of their perfection, their colorful eyeshadow and shiny lips, and most of all their skin painted so thick it almost looked plastic. Why do we have these crazy standards? If we didn’t have all these standards maybe normal people wouldn’t have to wear makeup to be considered beautiful.
Pediatrician. That would be such a difficult job sometimes. Sticking kids with needles, watching them cry and panic. Giving children more pain they can’t understand.
The pediatrician was an elderly gentleman. An old soul with old glasses and an even older haircut. His office, though sterile, was homely, like a grandmother’s parlor. Knick-knacks decorated his desk.
He walked into the small room, waiting for him was a young boy. The boy was coughing, it was allergy season after all. He smiled at the young boy then looked around the corner to greet the boys mother, “Well it seems that Tyler has a slight fever, but it’s nothing to worry about. He just need some over the counter medicine and a lot of bed rest.” Tyler’s mother gave a sigh of relief and thanked him. As Tyler struggled to get off of the exam table he looked up at the pediatrician and smiled, “Thanks mister” Tyler said in a small, timid voice. He smiled at the young boy and picked up his clip board, this was why he loved his job.
Forever ago there was one children’s spin doctor. He’d come around here, often, and just tell our kids to sleep less or play more. And it worked, we all knew it would. Some of the advice he gave was more than obvious. Even a dundering idiot could have thought of them. But his words carried a certain authority that ours did not.
Those people that are always wearing white lab coats to make you FEEL like your medicine is clean. Those places that the children are always impatiently waiting for the white lab coat man to HURRY UP and retrieve the whatever mom needs so they can get on with their fun. That feeling that makes you think you are awfully less smart than the man behind the counter.
When I was young, the pediatrician was able to come to our house if we were sick. My mom could call him on the phone and talk about what was wrong; he could then prescribe medicine from that phone call. Can you even imagine this happening today? There is no personal relationship anymore.