The last six times we’ve taken our daughter to the pediatrician my Love Interest turned to me and vowed we’re going to find a new doctor. The lobby is pleasant enough. There’s one room for the healthy with the television always playing a Disney cartoon and another room for the lepers where the kids must entertain themselves by picking the scabs off their faces.
The major problem is the doctor’s office always leaves us waiting. This seems insane considering we make our appointments two months in advance.It is understood for adults that doctors always consider appointment times to be recommendations, but when you’re holding a crying baby punctuality becomes more and more attractive.
When we signed up for this doctor it was because my Love Interest wanted our daughter to have a female doctor. We were quite surprised when our doctor came in to be a husky, burly man in a white coat. He had his way with our daughter the first few times able to twirl her around with his fingers while keeping a smile on her face. So even though English was not his strong suit, we stuck with the long waits because other parents adored him and couldn’t gush about him enough.
Then one day we were given another doctor in the practice. We picked the first appointment of the day and he left us waiting over an hour. He came in and apologized saying the traffic was bad. He kept calling our daughter by different names, none of which were hers and all in all seemed slightly hungover. So we made sure that our next appointment was with the original non-English speaking doctor.
Which brings us to our daughter’s six month check-up. We wait and wait. My Love Interest keeps looking at the clock worried that our daughter is going to cry while I keep worrying that we’re going to enter the next pay increment for parking.
Finally he enters. He finishes each sentence with the Spanish word listo. Which as far as we know means ready, but seems to be acceptable for him to use regardless of the circumstance. “Let us look at your ears. Listo.” “Start her off eating zucchini for two days then carrots for two days. Listo.” “She is a big girl. Listo.”
He’s a nice enough guy, and knock on wood we haven’t had to deal with anything but check-ups, and perhaps in emergencies is where he shines, but with the way our daughter was crying as he examined her I figured this would be the last time we would go to him. But like many failed relationships he broke up with us before we could have the honor.
“Listo. So this will be the last time I see you. I will be moving to Tampa. Listo.” We shook his hand and figured we’d try a different doctor in the practice. Maybe this time they’d give us the woman we originally asked for.
But not a day later we came across the below video starring our doctor. Apparently he is a regular on a Telemundo talk show. A Dr. Oz for the Spanish viewers. And all this time we were glad he never had to give us a prescription, when that could have served as his autograph.