See?! I do NOT have Munchausens!

Maybe I should specify - I do not have Munchhausen's by Proxy. If you by chance missed the Judith Light Lifetime movie chronicling this disturbing disease, here's a short recap: it is a label for a pattern of behavior in which caretakers deliberately exaggerate and/or fabricate and/or induce physical and/or psychological-behavioral-mental health problems in others.

So for the record, I do not have that. I'm not making this shit up, nor do I ponder reasons to go to the doctor. I don't need to make up reasons. I have a wealth of symptoms to explore at length. Unfortunately, so does my daughter.

Proof? Now Sabrina has to see a Pediatric Neurologist. A neurologist! A brain doctor. I haven't even seen a neurologist.

How it all happened is kind of a blur at this point. It started out with me dragging my poor 7 month old to her bi-weekly physical therapy. But this session was going to be different. This session I was going to have a Come to Jesus discussion with the PT. See, Sabrina cries through the whole thing. It's miserable. The PT tends to look at me like, "Can't you make her stop crying?" and I tend to look at her like, "If I could fucking make her stop, don't you think I would? Perhaps you can stop trying to twist her body into positions that clearly hurt her or are, at the very least, really fucking uncomfortable...and maybe then she'll stop." And then I'd make my eyes go all squinty just so she really gets the point.

Luckily, the physical therapist was on the same page as me this time. She agreed we aren't seeing much progress at all in the two areas we are working on: her neck (the torticollis) and her upper body strength. She suggested perhaps stopping physical therapy in this setting and moving towards using the resources of Early Intervention. They'll do a full assessment and do the therapy in the home, which she felt Sabrina would benefit from since she obviously hates every second in the medical office.

I think this sounds like a swell idea. While I'll admit I'm not thrilled about having to go the Early Intervention route at all, I'm glad she'll continue to get the help she needs developing her gross motor skills better and getting off that God damn flat head of hers.

Then she mentions how sensitive Sabrina's neck is (no shit. I think I mentioned that the first day, lady). I said, "Should she get an x-ray to rule out anything structural?" She replies that it wouldn't be a bad idea, but that our pediatrician needs to order that. She seems hesitant to suggest that to him for fear of offending him and telling him how to do his job. I told her, No worries! Our pediatrician is used to me doing that. I'll email him tomorrow. Which is totally true, and I think I now carry some street cred with him since I diagnosed her latest ailment all by myself anyway. Really I just need him to push the paperwork and orders through. I might start calling him my Admin Asst instead of Sabrina's pediatrician.

The next morning I sent the above described email. I anxiously wait for my response, only to receive:

"I received a message from the physical therapist about Sabrina's progress, and I feel the next step for her should be to see a Pediatric Neurologist."

That's it.

That's quite a jump, buddy. From physical therapy to a measly x-ray to a neurologist?

Let's hope he's just being really over-cautious and proactive.