Yup, I'm on newborn wards now.
Our staff physician, Dr. Z, is notorious for her anti-bra, anti-hospital-childbirth, anti-baby-shampoo ways. She preaches skin-to-skin contact between mother and baby 20+ hours a day for the first 6 months and rumors abound that she breast-fed her own children until the age of either 4 or 9, depending on who's recounting the legend.
If she asks a question about what's wrong with a baby, 9 times out of 10 the answer she's looking for is that we broke it. All you have to say is "well, the mom opted for an epidural and is bottle feeding, that could explain the baby's [birthmark/heart murmur/poor feeding/rash/dysmorphic features/lack of limbs/etc.]" and she may jump up and hug you.
She's fond of picking up a newborn, holding it at arms length, sniffing, and with a just-stepped-in-dog-poo expression declaring: "this one is obviously bottle fed."
As my senior resident was leaving for the day prior to my first overnight call, I stopped him in the hallway. "Should I call Dr. Z overnight if there's a problem with any of the newborns?"
He considered for a moment. "No, about the only reason you'd call her is if you're thirsty for some breast milk."