My first OB/GYN wasn’t a jerk, but he also wasn’t an OB/GYN. I found him in the Yellow Pages when I was 17 and looking for a place to get a prescription for birth control pills. (Young people, the Yellow Pages was a book (made of real paper) we used to find business addresses and phone numbers back before Google. Yes, those were dark times.) Planned Parenthood was too far away, and I was without a car at this time due to an accident I had when an 89-year-old woman ran a stop sign, a common occurrence in South Florida. Anyway, this doctor’s office was RIGHT DOWN THE STREET. So, I walked there, after calling on the phone for an appointment.
The doctor was super nice, and so was his wife. She talked to me before my pelvic exam. She had a model of the female reproductive system, and she showed me exactly what her husband was going to do. Then, she stayed with me in the room while he did the exam. She told me that her husband was a general doctor, not an OB/GYN, but he wanted to help young girls get birth control if they needed it. I think they may have charged a lower rate, too. They were very nice people, and I got my pills.
My mom was PISSED when she found out I was on the pill. Our pharmacist told her because I was dumb enough to go to the same pharmacy my mom always went to. I think that’s kind of illegal for him to have told her that. Once she found out who prescribed them, she was really mad. My mom worked for doctors and said this guy I went to was a “fucking quack.” I liked him, but since she was so pissed, I told her I would go to her doctor for my next exam. My mom’s doctor was, and probably still is, a jerk. I’m only saying jerk because I’m trying to swear less. Really, he was an asshole. OK. A fucking asshole.
I went in for my exam by myself. The nurse brought me to the room and had me put on that gown that covers almost nothing. I’ve never understood why they even bother with the gown. They should just throw a baby blanket over you and call it a day. Anyway, the doctor came in after I sat in the room for about 20 minutes with the air conditioning vent blowing on me. In South Florida, it’s always too hot outside and too cold inside.
So, the doctor had me lie back and scoot my butt all the way forward, and then put my feet in the stirrups. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. Then, he proceeded to give me the most painful, horrible pelvic exam I have ever had in my life. Still. After the exam, I told him, with tears in my eyes, that it was very painful. He replied, I shit you not, “Well, I wasn’t tickling you!” I left there HATING him and vowing never to return. Not only did I never go back, when I got home I asked my mother if she was unaware that there were other OB/GYNs she could see.
By the time I got around to getting married and pregnant, I was 25. I had a warm, wonderful OB/GYN throughout my pregnancy. I won’t use his name, but his nephew was on the show Full House and he was also the voice of Aladdin. He told me all of this during exams. I found that to be really neat at the time, the fact that his nephew was mildly famous and the fact he actually talked to me about such things during exams. That doctor was so awesome. He told me I was glowing and looked beautiful at every appointment. And then I had to see his partner.
At this OB/GYN practice, they made you see other doctors towards the end of your pregnancy because your own doctor might not be on call when you went into labor. Because no one ever goes into labor during normal business hours. So, I waddled into the office at about 8 months to see Dr. Z. I could tell that Dr. Z was an asshole, I mean jerk, the minute he walked in because he did not make eye contact with me. He just told me to assume the position. I asked if he could look at a rash I had developed on my bikini line. I thought it was a heat rash since I lived in South Florida and I had a heck of a FUPA with this pregnancy. The doctor stood a couple of feet away from me and said, “It’s a fungus!”
I was horrified. He made it sound like black mold was going to eat me alive with his alarmed tone. “How did I get a fungus?” I genuinely thought I had some South American rainforest level shit happening.
He stepped back about three feet and said, “I don’t know. Get some anti-fungal cream at the drug store. Also, you might want to start watching your weight. You’ve gained too much.” With that, he walked out of the room. I pulled my paper blanket around me and slid off of the table to get dressed.
I had to hold back the tears. I was fat AND I had a fungus. This was not good. So, I did what people usually do when they are insulted like this, I went home and ate macaroni and cheese. Lots of it. I shoveled it in my mouth while muttering, “I’m fat and I have a fungus. Asshole.”
Guess who was on call when my water broke? Yep. Dr. Z. Before they wheeled me in to the OR, Dr. Z examined me and told me, “Your water didn’t really break.” I swear he rolled his eyes when he said it.
I rolled them right back. A person CAN TELL when her water breaks. I told him, “Well then I must have lost control of my bladder in bed, all the way to the bathroom, and in the car on the way over here.” Asshole. Jerk. Other bad words.
I labored for 17 hours, and my epidural quit working and needed to be inserted again. Good times. I ended up needing an emergency C-section. Lucky for me, his surgical skills were way better than his bed side manner. I never saw him again, and I don’t miss him.
Let me hear from you in the comments! Guys, you can play along, too. Tell me about your worst doctor ever. How did you handle your visit with him or her? Tell me I’m not the only one who has had horrible doctors.