File this one under: you can’t make this shit up. A little background – I am pregnant with baby #3(!) due in December. Sadly, it looks like my last blog post was BEFORE baby #2 was even born. I am ashamed, I really am. But my dismal blogging aside, I absolutely have to share the following story for no other reason than pure entertainment value. (I’ve tried to keep it as succinct as possible, but may have failed. Just know that every word was totally necessary).

Some of you may recall that I had a few complaints about my prior OB/GYN. Namely, her lack of any semblance of a personality. Personality issues are certainly concerning, but she did manage to deliver Jonah without any sort of medical emergency arising, so we’ll give her that. Nonetheless, when I realized I would be in need of OB services yet again (another post for another day… if you’re lucky), I knew I would not be returning to Ms. Yawn Fest. I did a little Yelping, called a few doctors, and settled on my new OB (name withheld to protect the…guilty). For blog purposes, let’s call him Dr. B. He had a solo practice and great reviews, so I though I’d give it a go.

My very first appointment, I knew I’d made a good decision. Dr. B is a total whack job, in the most complimentary sense of that term. He’s funny, blunt, and personable, and has also been delivering babies for decades. A little crazy, but if you’re into that sort of thing (I am), you’d appreciate it.

Life went on. Pregnancy went on. Nothing exciting until one day I needed to call his office, so I Googled his office number and up popped… a mug shot. Yes, a mug shot. As in, a picture of Dr. B with a label on the bottom stating, “photo courtesy of Orange County District Attorney’s office.” He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t exactly frowning, so at first I wasn’t sure whether it was just a professional photo of him. Until I noticed the jumpsuit. Yup, there was no getting around it. Dr. B was in police custody at the time of this photograph. Well, then. That’s not great. I called his office, half expecting a disconnected line, but they answered the phone like, ain’t no thang and confirmed that yes, my appointment was, in fact, still on.

I read the accompanying article and quickly learned some background on the allegations. I’m sure you’re in the process of Googling this yourself, so I won’t reiterate. Bottom line: embezzlement, tax evasion x 36 counts, blah, blah, blah. The article stated he’d pleaded “not guilty” so I figured we’d be a long way from trial come December. Baby unaffected.

Now, I want to address the concept that I would immediately switch doctors upon learning this information, a perspective many people relayed to me. I really didn’t see the necessity in this. Now, I am a criminal defense attorney, but I’m also a former prosecutor. I don’t think everyone is innocent, but I do know that there’s a lot more to any case than a brief news article relays. Plus, he wasn’t accused of some violent crime or child molestation, which – burden of proof or not – may cause me to reconsider. (Side note: last year when I was pregnant with Jonah, Andy and I were representing a client who WAS accused of child molestation. While we were in trial, there was a huge tropical storm. The client – a medic – told me that the atmospheric pressure from the storm could cause a woman to go into labor, but not to worry – he could always deliver my baby for me since the hospitals would be closed! Ahhhhh, I think I’ll just go tough it out in the ladies’ room, but thanks). That said, I have a little perspective.

So Dr. B and I soldiered on, no mention was made of his “situation,” and he seemed in good spirits throughout the next few months.

Then, last weekend, I was talking to my neighbor, a labor and delivery nurse, and she asked me who my “new” doctor is. New doctor? Oh, no, I’m not switching at this point. She looked confused. “Dr. B. is in jail…” Wait, what? Yes, she assured me she’d heard that he had just been sentenced to a year in jail.

A little Google search later, and yup – sure as shit – Dr. B’s “not guilty” plea had been changed to a negotiated “guilty plea” including a year in jail,  which he was hoping to get reduced to some sort of house arrest. Well, this is not great. I had an appointment with him the following Wednesday (today!) so over the next few days, I half-heartedly waited for a phone call or e-mail breaking the news. Nope, nothing.

Well, clearly they weren’t going to call, but I still had to make sure I had a doctor, so yesterday I called his office to “confirm whether I still had an appointment” (yes). Still nothing. I broached the subject abruptly: “look, I’ve seen the news articles. What is going on?” The receptionist responded that Dr. B. was going to discuss his situation with me at my appointment the next day.

The pre-textual purpose of my appointment.

OMG. YES. This was going to be hilarious! and so awkward! What would he say? Would he minimize? Would he have a speech prepared for him by his lawyer? I couldn’t wait.

So I go to my appointment ahead of schedule (never happens) and anxiously await “the talk.” They call me in, do a blood draw, and send me to a room to await Dr. B.

Anxiously awaiting my promised talk.

Just like always, he waltzes in, chipper as can be, starts small talking me about the weather and how I look so tan (why, thank you!). I’m dying inside. He continues to talk about the baby, informs me I’m now in the third trimester (I actually had no idea…baby #3, you’re still loved despite my lack of BabyCenter application use or knowledge of what fruit  you’re currently resembling).

Okay, is this guy kidding me? What is going on here? He starts to collect his chart, and appears to be readying himself to exit. Ahh… not so fast, buddy.  “Well, see you soon!” he tries.

“Actually… I have to ask,” I interrupt his departure. “What is going on with your situation…? The legal one. And look, I’m an attorney. I get it. I just need to know for my planning purposes.” Ha!

He slumps back down into a chair. “Look,” he begins, “the IRS is crazy. If you owe them $20, give them $30.” Umm, riiiiiight. Was THAT the problem here? Seems a little aggressive to get jail time for not overpaying your taxes.  I had no idea they could do that. Oh, wait…

“It’s all handled. I’m not going to jail,” He claims. We converse a little more. He seems deflated, obviously uncomfortable, but weirdly relieved to discuss it. I assure him that this is good, he can move on with his life now. He seems less than convinced, insinuates that he may or may not have privileges at the hospitals where I could deliver but assures me that, “there’s always a doctor on call either way” and tells me I will, “barely make it to the hospital anyway before the baby pops out” (based on no personal medical or historical data related to me).

So, here we are. Best case scenario, as I see it: He will deliver the baby while wearing a house arrest ankle monitor!! Only remaining question: will there also be an armed sheriff in the room?

// the end.