Top 10 Pitfalls of Taking Kids to the Doctor

By now, we’ve spent a lot of quality time at the doctor. Between the pediatrician, podiatrist, and ENT, we’ve documented every fluctuation in my height and weight, injected me with every vaccine, and treated me for everything from wheezing and wet farts to flat feet, pink eye, and ear infections. Taking me to the doctor is practically mom’s second job at this point, but it’s still not a flawless operation. Here are just a few of the hurdles Mommy has encountered as my personal healthcare coordinator:

1. Waiting rooms. Technically, I’m here for a well-visit, but I’ll probably end up with dysentery from all the times I try to tongue-kiss the door knob on the “sick side”. Wish me luck!

2. Toys in the waiting room. Crayons. Cars. Mangled board books. It’s gonna look like Christmas morning in this bitch when I’m done tearing through this toy bin. You’re gonna have to carry me away kicking and screaming when that nurse calls my name.

3. Waiting rooms with no toys. Hell hath wrought no greater punishment than 10 minutes of boredom. Mommy would entertain me, except she’s still completing a family history manifesto that goes back 7 generations and signing enough HIPPA forms to constitute buying a house. I guess I'll pass the time playing in the water fountain (on the "sick side") or pumping the complimentary hand-sanitizer at the front desk until it's a pile of jelly on the floor floor for the next family to bust their asses on.

4. Bringing the iPad. Oh IPad... you dear, sweet, dangerous precedent! You are this minute’s savior and the next minute’s meltdown over giving you up. In fact, Mommy can thank my over-the-top antics for the stack of pamphlets she’ll be leaving with on establishing healthy screen-time habits. You’re welcome.

5. Not bringing the iPad. Looks like Mommy learned her lesson with the iPad... but I know she’s got an iPhone somewhere in that purse... Now she gets to feel like she’s being mugged for the next half hour while I incessantly grab at her handbag. Give it up, lady! So I can immediately shatter the face of your phone on the waiting room floor!

6. Exam rooms. Whooping cough. Flu. Hand Foot and Mouth. Leave me waiting for the doctor long enough in this exam room and I’ll have all three, because I plan to touch every inch of germ-covered surface. Including the door knob and the trash can. Especially the trash can.

7. Bringing siblings. Good news! I’m not bored! Instead, my brother and I are ricocheting off the exam room walls like a pair of pinballs. That doctor better get in here before we rip the biohazard bin off the wall and start playing soccer with a wad of contaminated “sharps”.

8. Shots. Once upon a time, the nurse could jab me out of nowhere with whatever she had on hand and I’d never expect it. Now I’m old enough to know what’s coming and start quizzing Mommy about how many, what kind, and how bad they’re going to hurt before we get in the car for the appointment. Good thing I’ve got a lollipop to look forward to.

9. Lollipops at checkout. Who says candy rewards are unhealthy? Not this kid! In fact, they’re my favorite. I like to hold up the check-out line while I paw through the candy jar touching every damn Dum-Dum in the dish. I also like to be an ungrateful little bastard when I don’t like the flavor I picked and try to shove my licked-on lolly back in with the others.

10. No lollipops at checkout. Dear Doctor’s Office: Mommy may give you an “A” for your effort to curb childhood obesity, but I give you a giant “F”, as in “F you, give me my damn candy!” And to think I got a shot today!?! What fresh hell is this land without lollies? You may think you’re saving me from Type II Diabetes, but no one can save you or anyone else within a 20 foot radius from the nuclear wrath of my tantrum if I don’t get my fucking lollipop.

So you see, Mommy? The doctor’s office is a real “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” kinda place. With any luck, I’ll eventually grow out of the mystery viruses and unexplained rashes that keep you up at night and send you rushing to the doctor in the morning. Just think! By the time I stop eating my boogers and start actually washing my hands after taking a dump, my immune system is going to be Fort Fucking Knox. In the meantime, be thankful you’ve been #blessed with a reasonably healthy kid and consider ordering up a shot of tequila with my next DPT booster. Just try to avoid having your own blood pressure taken until I’m old enough to take myself to doctor’s appointments. Or perhaps take up meditation. Cuz that’s a looong-ass time from now. Namaste!