ServicesSara Ramirez offers OBGYN services in Mission Viejo, CA at 26800 Crown Valley Pkwy. Ste. 545, Mission Viejo, CA 92691. Obstetricians & Gynecologists (OBGYN) specialize in female reproductive health issues as well as gynecological health issues.
To learn more about OBGYN services, or to make an appointment with Mission Heritage Medical Group in Mission Viejo, CA, please call (949) 364-1040.Additional ServicesGynecologist
Dr. Baginski is an extremely compassionate doctor as well as an excellent physician. He delivered both of our children and has continued to take excellent care of me ever since then. In fact, he saved my life when I had breast cancer and he quickly diagnosed it and sent me for immediate treatment! I would highly recommend him!
They explained all the risks and benefits of my treatment options. Everything was explained in detail, all my questions were answered, and I felt a lot better about choosing a treatment plan. I didn't have to wait at all after I arrived for my appointment. They were running right on time, which is a really big deal for me. I've never had to worry about them being understaffed or not being able to help me right when I need it. They have a huge staff that's very knowledgeable and qualified. I really admire them for being more than willing to ask for help from other professionals in the field when they don't have an answer to my question. They aren't even slightly arrogant, and I'm confident they always have my best interest at heart. The waiting area here is extremely spacious. There is never overcrowding and everything is spaced appropriately.
I now relax in Dr. Baginski's care. I find a certain ease and comfort in his ordinariness--the familiar sight of his tousled brown hair, stubble on his boyish face, crumples in his navy blue scrubs. It may seem odd to draw upon the ordinary, but ordinariness is in fact the hallmark of this extraordinary physician and gifted surgeon.
Sharply tailored suits and Italian loafers could never reflect the Dr. Baginski I've come to know and appreciate. Such dress is only practical for physicians who spend their days writing prescriptions for nasal decongestants. The day of my oophorectomy, Dr. Baginski spent the morning hours performing pelvic exams, ultrasounds, menopause care, and prenatal care at his office. Later the hospital paged him to guide a woman through her birth experience--an hour before my surgery Dr. Baginski delivered her baby. I imagine a beautiful baby, soft, tiny, fragile even to her mother's touch. He arrived at the surgical center well after four in the evening to perform my surgery.
A couple hours after his arrival, a nurse roused me from the anesthesia--anxiety immediately set in as I became suddenly aware of the sensation of pain, the chill of the air, and the strangeness of the faces around me. Unexpectedly, the curtain around the bed billowed as if caught in a breeze, then from behind the simple cotton drape stepped the surgeon with the familiar stubbled chin and tousled hair; his scrubs slightly crumpled as usual. Dr. Baginski words simply faded in midair, for in that moment, his words did not matter, only the sight of his familiar face.
Dr. Baginski understood the oophorectomy was a deeply personal and very difficult decision for me. What Dr. Baginski did not know--and still does not know, is why. We all have a backstory; only I think of mine as a dead manuscript. I am not nostalgic. Nostalgia is a like a strange old country where time and distance distorts the moments of my life, blunts the pain of violence and poverty, yet rouses them to consciousness, sharpens their complexities.
I am at peace now, but those who still seek peace at times disturb mine, rouse my thoughts, and leave me restless. In these moments, my thoughts drift downstream, flow deep into the old country where they lodge into my complex consciousness. I then question everything.
I am not one given to trust. And in the days leading up to surgery, I found I did not trust myself. I needed to trust my surgeon. I needed to know unequivocally if I said, "Stop, I change my mind," he would hold me back from the precipice--keep me from slipping into the abyss of which I feared.
The day of my pre-op appointment, I sat in Dr. Baginski's office. Quite suddenly he stopped work at his computer, turned his chair around, looked straight at me, and said, "If at any time you change your mind, all you have to do is pick up the phone and call me. It doesn't matter how close to surgery we get. It doesn't matter that we did the lab work."
Intellectually I rationalize this as an extraordinary moment of sensibilities--the ability to perceive and respond to the intellectual and emotional needs of his patients. Aesthetically, it resonated as a wabi sabi moment. Wabi sabi does not translate to English; we cannot translate the experience evoked when one drinks from a master potter's teacup; we cannot translate the blend of melancholy and exhilaration we feel at the sight of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon--knowing its days are few. Wabi sabi is more than the mutual understanding of emotions conveyed between the master painter and the audience--wabi sabi is the experience of the realization and the understanding of those emotions.
The sins of my father are my burden to bear. I rarely speak of my past, not even to my children. Grace, not shame silenced me. And too, I do not like to be mistaken for a girl with a dragon tattoo. So Dr. Baginski knows nothing of the violence in my past. But he is intuitive. He sensed my deep apprehension. He sensed my doubt. Without my ever saying the words, he understood enough to place himself squarely between my doubt and me--exactly where I wanted him to stand, exactly where I needed him to stand.
On the day of my surgery, as the anesthesiologist prepared to take me to the OR he asked if I had any further questions for Dr. Baginski. I said, "No." I expected Dr. Baginski to leave, yet he remained steadfast at the foot of my bed until they took me away. I have no idea why Dr. Baginski stood there, for all I know he was mulling his weekend errand list. However, the gift of a final minute to change my mind was for me the rare and precious gift of trust. A gift I cherish, but rarely give or receive in life. In that moment, Dr. Baginski let me exhale, let me lie back, close my eyes, and relax in his care.
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