Ode to my Pediatrician
I’m 23 years old and have been living in my college town for some time now. I’m pursuing my Masters, working part time, and just figuring out this whole adulting thing. One of the most daunting parts of being an adult, and living in an entirely different state, is finding new doctors. My parents did a great job picking out doctors for me back home that I just don’t want to leave them– ever.
When I was home for Thanksgiving, my parents sat me down to talk. We agreed that 2022 is the time to break free and become the 23-year-old who doesn’t go to the pediatrician anymore. It’s time for me to find a primary care doctor. Thankfully, I knew what I had to do– I asked my co-workers who have children around the same age as me for recommendations on a PCP (primary care doctor) in the area. I did this and a great family care practice was recommended. I looked at their website and reviews and liked what I saw. I quickly sent the link to my mom and a few minutes later, she called me.
I closed my office door and answered the phone. My mom and the guidance she has always provided me with is invaluable. It’s a well-known fact that I speak to my mom upwards of three times a day and, in many of those calls, she’s able to provide me with her motherly wisdom. (My mom also often receives calls from me where I’m bored and just want someone to talk to. She doesn’t like those calls as much.) In conversation about the doctor, I tell my mom I like the location, the number of female doctors, and the accessibility I would get to specialists, and she agreed. She suggests I make an appointment with them. “Okay”, I say, “that sounds reasonable.”
But then the reality of the situation started to sink in. I asked my mom, “Does this mean I won’t see my pediatrician anymore?” She responds, reassuringly, “Is that okay?”
The flood gates opened and I instantly started crying. (Seriously I’m not making this up.)
Then I started laughing. (And my mom started laughing at me crying.)
If anyone heard me from my office, crying and laughing at the same time, they probably thought I was going crazy. Is crying in the office even socially acceptable? Probably not. But the thought of letting go of this person, of my pediatrician, sparked a strong emotional response for me.
Who knew that even the thought of getting a new doctor - a big girl doctor! - would be so emotional. Certainly not me. But I guess it makes sense as to why I reacted that way. My pediatrician has been there for me since day one, literally. She’s been there through the ups and the downs; the growth spurts; the sprained knees; the conversations about substances and whether I’m sexually active. She’s been there for me through it all.
Going to the doctor for my annual physical was more than just a medical check-up. Rather, it was a time for me and my pediatrician to catch up! She knew my mom and my dad and my sister. She knew who my friends were and what I enjoyed doing in my free time. She was able to watch me grow up and become the woman I am today. When I told her where I was going for college and what I was studying, she knew it was the perfect path for me. She just knows me so well.
I don’t want to have to start over with someone new. I don’t want to recite my entire life story for someone new. My pediatrician didn’t need me to tell her, because she was there, living it alongside me. But, growing up is hard, and I recognize that now is the time where I have to let go of my security blanket. I have to say goodbye to my pediatrician.
So, goodbye. I take with me high expectations as to what my next doctor should be— nurturing, patient, kind, and supportive. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for your medical advice. I’ll miss it, and I’ll miss you.
