Yesterday morning I noticed that Miles felt a little warm, so I decided to take his temperature. Rectally, of course. His temperature was 100.3 degrees. Now if Oscar's temperature was 100.3 degrees I wouldn't sweat it, but because Miles is not even two months old, I was a bit concerned so I called my pediatrician's office.
I spoke with the nurse on call and she said I should bring him in. She wasn't overly concerned, nor was I, but she though he was a bit warm and the docs should have a look see.
So, I completely rearranged my day, got someone to sit for Oscar, and took Miles in that afternoon. Now, by the time I took him in, he was no longer warm but I decided I wanted him looked at anyways, just in case.
We arrive at the appointment 30 minutes late since there were no less than three different road construction projects going on on my route to the hospital. I mean, I'm not complaining about road construction projects, particularly because my husband is a pavement engineer and his job depends on roads and their needing to be fixed, but three separate projects on the 17 mile stretch of road that takes me to my pediatrician seems a bit excessive.
Anyways, we get there and we got put into the sick pool since we missed our appointment. And guess who was seeing the sick patients yesterday. The Asshole, with a capital A.
It went like this:
In bustles the Asshole.
Asshole: So, what's going on with Miles today?
Jenni: Well, he had a little fever this morning so I called-
A: What was his fever?
A: And it was 100.3 rectally?
J: Yes, rectally.
A: 100.3 is not a fever. 100.4 is a fever [She seriously said this.]
J: Okay, but I called in and-
A: If he had a fever he'd have to go to the ER. For 100.4 he'd go to the ER.
J: Okay, but-
A: But I'm not going to send you there for 100.3. 100.3 is not a fever.
J: Right, but when I called-
A: I mean, if it's 100.4 like two or three times in a row when you check it, it could be sepsis and we have to send him to the ER. But, I'm not going to put you through that for 100.3 [!!!!!]
J, speaking very quickly as not to be interrupted: Yeah, okay, but when I called the nurse she said to bring him in. I was not overly concerned, but 100.3 seemed high for someone so little, so I decided to call and she said someone should see him.
A: Well, you're right [????] 100.3 is high for someone so little. It's right on the boarder [of what? of 100.4? really?]. You were right to call.
J: Okay, well, he's not warm now but I figured I'd still bring him in so someone could just check him and make sure he was okay.
A: How's he acting?
J: Smiling, cooing, nursing, regular baby stuff.
A: Right, that's right. He looks great! He's so handsome, [to Miles] you're so handsome aren't you? Are you going to smile for me? [Miles smiles] Oh, so cute. He's fine, you can take him home.
In summary, Miles is fine, the pediatrician is still an Asshole, but she did tell me how cute Miles was so I'm letting her slide. Although, I guess since I'm blogging about her and calling her an Asshole, I'm not really letting her slide. I just like it when people tell me my baby is cute, even if they are assholes.