My Obstetrician Sucked So I Fired Her

I have a child, which means I was once pregnant. Here’s the story: when a woman, her sperm donor, and fertility doctor — no, I'm just kidding — that’s where my story begins.

When I became pregnant, my husband and I visited our GP, whom we like very much, and we asked, "Doctor, can you confirm we are pregnant?" Then, he had me pee on a stick privately and confirmed, indeed, that we were pregnant. What a blessing! He referred us to an obstetrician because he said, “I don’t handle that," and recommended a lovely female obstetrician he has known for a long time and trusts. He thought we would really like her. We were very excited!

My husband and I always went to these appointments together because the baby was a collaboration. When we arrived for our first appointment, we were really excited to meet our obstetrician. 

At the reception desk, two receptionists were sitting there. It's funny because, look, it's not like as a receptionist you have to be like a host at a restaurant, greeting you and taking your coat or whatever. But these receptionists did not give a shit about anything.

They barely looked up from their two computer monitors. They waited for us to approach and say the first words. Even then, they didn't even look up. Their eyes went up, but it was kind of like in Tim Allen's Home Improvement, where you only see the eyes of the neighbour named Wilson. The receptionists did not even crook their necks a little bit. They just sat there typing away. Eventually, they told us to wait, and then it was our turn to go in and see our doctor.

The obstetrician doctor was actually very well dressed—a nice lady who wasn't even wearing a lab coat, which was very fancy. It reminded me of an episode of The Mindy Project. I thought, "Oh, this is kind of cool."

However, I was a little disappointed because our GP had told us our obstetrician would have an ultrasound, so we could see the beginnings of our little baby. Unfortunately, the doctor informed us that they only have a Doppler to listen to the baby's heartbeat. So I responded, "Yeah, cool. We'll just take your word for it that this sounds like a healthy baby." 

Another interesting thing was that partway through our appointment, near the end, the doctor told us that she was not the doctor our GP referred us to. She was a substitute doctor because our regular doctor was away. So we were like, "Okay, that's not the most abnormal thing. Maybe next time we come for our appointment, we can look forward to seeing our referred obstetrician."

The Doctor’s Office Endless Waiting Room

A few weeks went by, and we returned for our second appointment, excited to meet our actual obstetrician. The same apathetic medical office assistants were there and did not give a shit about us. They told us to sit, and we did. My husband and I sat in that waiting room for over-two-fucking-hours. I'm not even exaggerating. We couldn't believe it. We weren't acting out, but we just wondered if there was a problem.

We asked about our appointment every 45 minutes, which was reasonable. We just asked if they remembered that we existed, and they said yes—they were running behind. Finally, no less than two hours after our scheduled appointment, we were called in and waited for the obstetrician. When she arrived, she seemed flustered and rushed, saying, "What a busy day! I'm covering for two other doctors who are away today."

I said, "Oh, you knew in advance that you were covering for two doctors. Do you guys ever, like, call?" I said this most nicely. Okay, I'm not saying it nicely now, because it's impossible, and you'll see why. I said, "Oh, if they let us know, we would have come later—like later, but still on time or still early—but we wouldn’t have sat there for over two hours." This is all in my head, but the words that I said out loud were, "Oh, they didn't tell us that you were going to be so behind." To which she replied, "Yeah, we don't do that."

So they expect us to come on time. They charge or threaten to charge patients when they are late or no-shows, but they never do that for the actual doctor. 

I get it, healthcare is a privilege and blessing, but this treads into the territory of treating patients like they have no dignity. We’re made to come in, wait, and feel uncomfortable, all while being attended to at the staff's convenience. And let's leave out details, such as being two doctors behind and having zero chance of being seen two hours after your scheduled appointment. They clearly didn’t view us as human beings with value or worth, and they left us waiting.

Trusting Your Pregnant Gut

Anyway, the doctor came in and started reviewing the chart, because she hadn't had a minute to look over it before. I'm not necessarily a healthcare expert, like most of us are not experts, but I greatly appreciate it when a doctor comes in having done a little bit of homework, even if they skimmed the notes, so they know generally what's going on.

Instead, she asked us questions that had already been addressed during our previous visit. As she caught up reading her notes, I let her know that I would be choosing a C-section. She said flatly, "Yeah, we'll talk about that," and moved forward as if I didn't have free will or choice. 

I then noticed that she was pregnant, too, and asked, "When are you due?" She said, “Oh, around the same time as you.” I responded, “Oh, that's nice. Do you think that you'll be at my birth?” She laughed, “Oh, no,” and laughed off the idea. I get how it works when you're in practice and doctors cover for each other, but I would have preferred the doctor that I was seeing, who followed me for nine months, to be at my childbirth. 

Annoyed, she pouted slightly, grabbed the pad, and said, “Okay,” before quickly writing the prescription, which took about ten to twelve seconds. She handed it to us, and we left. At that moment, I decided that that bitch is going nowhere near my vagina.

We were definitely looking for a new obstetrician. Everything felt off: the medical assistant at the front, her attitude, and the lack of common respect for us. I understand being a little late, 20 minutes or 30 minutes, but making patients wait for two hours when you knew you would be pretty much that delayed is fucking disgusting.

Looking For A New Doctor

My husband and I returned to our GP and requested a referral to another obstetrician. He said, “Really? I'm so surprised. She's highly recommended, and I've known her for a long time.” We then explained—very objectively, though I cannot say it was without emotion—what had happened. He replied, “Yeah, I'll get you a new obstetrician.” 

I had someone in mind because I have many girlfriends who are very smart and educated, and, most of all, had babies before me through a C-section. It really pays off to have friends who do their market research and know what to look for, especially when they have similar sensibilities as you. One of my girlfriends recommended her obstetrician, who is an absolute fucking pro and leaves almost zero scars. 

I specifically requested a referral to that obstetrician, and this is not a matter of male or female. I would never, ever discriminate against someone based on being pregnant. But my experience with this woman was a fucking shit show, and she did not respect me.

Meet My OB: Dr. Hermès Porche 

The obstetrician we specifically chose had been practicing for multiple decades. He was an old, somewhat flashy-looking man who resembled an investment banker more than a doctor. I must say, I imagine he has a boat—though I don’t actually know.

When I look at him and his Hermès shoes with tassels and the cherry-red Porsche, it suggests to me that he's been doing this for a very long time without getting cancelled. So, you know what? This is the doctor for me. Also, I couldn't go bouncing around a lot, and so he was the obstetrician that we chose, and everything went fucking perfectly okay.

Even the receptionist at his practice was amazing, and I don't need a lot of cuddles and hugs — I don't expect any of it (I never got that growing up). But that lady — whatever her name was—was incredibly nice, and she was a pleasure to see every time. You know what? That is at least qualitatively part of what a receptionist should do. In my experience working in various organizations, I know that a receptionist’s demeanour is an important aspect of office culture. Maybe those other MOAs at the first obstetrics practice were like that because their culture fucking sucks.

On the other hand, my new doctor, Dr. Porsche, is amazing. His MOA is also wonderful. We loved them very much! 

Don’t Waste A Pregnant Woman’s Time

I remember being really bothered by that first doctor, God, it bothered me so much. What did I do? I didn't leave a bad rating at all, but I did something a bit petty.

As I left that office that day, I knew I would never return. And since they didn't value my time, I wanted to make sure they realized I didn't value theirs either. I scheduled a follow-up appointment and then ignored the reminder call that they sent a day or two before the appointment. I also ignored their call on the day of the subsequent appointment, where they asked about my whereabouts.

I decided to ghost them because I wanted to inconvenience them a little. You might think, “Oh no, another patient could have taken that spot.” No, they were not scheduling effectively. There was no fucking method to their madness. I don't think this affected anybody but those fucking bitchy MOAs and the doctor who couldn't bill an extra appointment that day. I did nothing else other than that. I didn't send a scathing email. I didn't go back to approach that doctor. I didn't leave a review on RateMyMD because it's not worth mentioning.

However, this podcast is my personal rating, and my official rating is zero out of five. You fucking suck. I hope your twins are well, but I hope you are not.