C, who I think I shall begin calling "Jill", had a well-child visit. We were 15 minutes early because it was the first visit since the adoption was final, so there was new insurance and a name change and I wanted to give the office staff plenty of time to get all taken care of before our appointment time.
They were running late. Way, way late. It was over 30 minutes after our appointment time before we were called back to a room. That's 45 minutes in a waiting room with a 9 month old and a 2 year old.
(That doesn't sound like a reason to love them, does it?)
Here's why I love them:
- Front office nurse apologized for the wait part way through.
- Nurse who called us back apologized again.
- Second nurse came in to help distract Lucy with crayons and a coloring book while Jill's vitals were taken and intake questions were asked.
- When the doctor came in, she apologized again.
- And -- on top of all the apologies? -- the doctor's only response to Lucy's meltdown while we were trying to get through the exam was "that's age appropriate."
(Jill is doing fantastic, by the way. She's on the small end of the growth chart, but staying steady on her curve; development is right where it should be. That, by itself, makes for a wonderful doctor's appointment, given the way her life started.)