Shady Medicine

We took Howie to this random doctor yesterday afternoon... it's a very long and complicated story, but the basic idea is that the pediatrician that we picked doesn't accept our medical plan, but we're switching onto another medical plan that he does accept. The problem is that Howie is going tomorrow for a physical therapy evaluation (which I'll explain in a minute) and in order for our insurance to pay for the evaluation, he had to be seen by a doctor that accepts our current insurance and have him/her agree that Howie should have the evaluation. Basically a total pain in the butt, but saved us some money.

We set out to find this doctor's office, which wasn't too far from our apartment. As we turned onto the street that the office was on, there was this weird building with cobalt blue siding and one car parked out front. I was thinking, "Surely this isn't the doctor's office...", but to my surprise, it WAS! The only bright, bright blue doctor's office I've ever seen. And with one car parked outside. A little shady from the get-go. Then we walk in. The office had all this dark wood paneling, which is obviously depressing, and smelled vaguely of poo. Never a good thing when walking into a medical establishment. On one door was a sign that read "H.L.S. Hauling, Inc.", which happened to be the doctor's initials. Housing your hauling business in with your medical practice? Odd. We walked into the waiting room past the hauling door to get Howie signed in, and the decor in there was even more disturbing. We're talking blue-gray carpet on the walls, people. And random Christmas trees and a marble statue in the middle of this planter box. And still the vague poo smell. By this point I was nearly ready to bolt. Then I started noticing the strange artwork on the walls. I'm telling you, this was the strangest thing I've ever seen. Josh and I both had the eery feeling that this was the office of a drug dealer, or something. We went through with the paper work, me giving the littlest amount of information possible since we were switching to the other pediatrician anyway, and began to wait for the doctor. Josh and I had a Coke bottle with us, and Howie is somewhat obsessed with bottles. He loves carrying them around while we walk with him. So he was toting his Coke bottle and chattering away, when out walked this wizened old man in a lab coat (leading me to the bright conclusion that he was indeed the doctor we had come to see), who chastised us for letting Howie hold that bottle and told us to take it away from him immediately. I could not believe that this was the doctor. He was very, very old. At first I thought he was joking about the Coke, and I said, "Oh, he's not drinking it!" Then I thought everyone would have a good laugh and we would think, "Well, this guy's decor is really weird, but at least he's got a sense of humor." But oh no, that was not to be. He said, "That doesn't matter. If he would drop it..." and then just kind of mumbled something I couldn't understand and shuffled off. By this point Josh and I were REALLY ready to bolt. I told Josh under no circumstances did I want this doctor to hold Howie- there was just something really shady about the whole operation. The nurse (who was very friendly) called our name a couple of minutes later, weighed Howie, and asked why we had come to see the doctor. We launched into the long, complicated story, and then were ushered back to a room to wait to see the doctor. He came in a couple of minutes later, asked what we needed, how old Howie was, and what kind of delays we were seeing. Then he motioned for us to follow him, which we did, out to the reception desk where one of his nurses wrote and signed the prescription for us to get the evaluation. So we got what we came for, but were greatly disturbed in the process that this person was practicing medicine and was covered by our insurance...

Anyway, we're taking Howie in for an evaluation because he's behind in some gross motor skills- everyone who sees him says that he'll be walking really soon because he loves walking if he can hold onto someone's index finger, but he skipped some really crucial things before this, like learning how to sit up from a lying down position and pulling up- he can only do that under really limited contexts. So we're taking him in. And insurance will pay for it, thanks to that creepy trip to the doc yesterday.