The Professor had an ingrown toenail that he alerted us to on Tuesday.(Read: screamed bloody murder when it was accidentally touched!) Since both Husband and I had to deal with this issue ourselves as youngsters, we did what we knew to do. I won't go into specifics out of respect for the queasy, but let's just say that it required the use of the Neosporin and the band-aid mentioned below.
We soaked it on Wednesday and treated it again on Thursday (after doctor's hours, of course) at which point it had not improved as much as we would have liked. So
Me: When do you want to see him?
Her: Oh, we don't want to see him?
Me: Really? OK, so what kind of cream are you prescribing?
Her: No cream.
While most pediatricians could have handled this in their office, mine chooses not too. Sounds like a big pain in my backside for no good reason, right? Well, not actually. I love this doc. He is the greatest! We've had some interesting conversations ( truly interesting, not code for wacko), he met us at the ER when Shortcake was a toddler with an out of control UTI and he LOVES homeschooling. I think he is rather fascinated by it.
Anyway... there are a few procedures that he refuses to tackle simply because the man knows his limitations. No "God complex" here! His hands tremor slightly. Those procedures that require a more delicate touch... ingrown toenails, wart removals, circumcisions... he hands off to someone more capable for good reason.
Someone like Dr. N., the doc who performed minor surgery on my son yesterday in his office. A man I had never met before who just happened to have one opening for that day, his last day before going on vacation all next week. The nice lady asked if we could be there in an hour and a half which just happened to be the exact amount of time I needed to dress BigBoy, throw some makeup on my face and get out the door and down the highway. Oh, and did I mention that he just happened to be in the one office (he rotates through 4 of them) which was close enough to Husband's office that he could come and take the other children out to lunch so that I could be with The Professor during the procedure instead of in the waiting room chasing a 3 year old?
Not my definition of "fun" but I have to say... He sure knows what He is doing! I'm not even going to ask why He thought half way through our ordeal was the perfect time to open the flood gates. Just gonna' be thankful for the plastic baggie and the well placed portico that kept The Professor's tender toe dry! : )