Monday, December 1, 2008

One year visit:

Round One:
Ear infection vs. Amoxicillin
Ear infection wins

Round Two:
Ear infection vs. Cefdinir (a stronger antibiotic)
FIGHT!!!

We had a great day together, though the shots at her one year appointment were looming in the back of my mind. We get there, play ever so patiently and good sportedly through 45 minutes of waiting for the doctor to tell me she's healthy (besides the ear infection) and growing like a weed.

"This little piggy went to the market...."
"Round and round the garden...."
"No Anna.."
"Don't put the paper in your mouth..."
"This little pi... no Anna!"
"This lit..... TICKLE"

Then came the shots. Still not as bad as that first time. You only cried for about three minutes and it wasn't the screeching howl it was when you were itty bitty and shocked out of your mind. As a mature one year old, you can handle a little bit of pain.
THEN
the doctor suggested an optional test for iron deficiency where they'd draw a vial of blood. I though, "No WAY!" But the doctor gave me that look, knowing what I was thinking, and told me all three of his kids got it done downstairs and were in and out in no time. No big deal.

In my head: "No way!"
What I actually said: "Sure, might as well be sure."

So we headed downstairs, you pushing the elevator button for the first time and me walking like we were on the green mile. A little boy (age 4 or 5) went in before you and howled and cried and you looked at the closed door with such a little look of empathy my heart broke. You toddled over to the door and put your hand on it.

Then came our turn. The little lady was so nice. She gave you an extra arm band thingy/rubber band to play with.
They tied your arm - you started to get nervous and whimpery (you DID just get shots. You aren't dumb).
She got the needle in there fast and pulled it out into position, AND...
...
Nothing.
She moved the needle a bit.
Nothing.
She moved it some more.
Nothing.
She pulled it out a little.
Nothing.
She put it in at a new angle.
Nothing.

FOR

TWO (read: one bazillion)

MINUTES

This whole time you are crying and thrashing around a little, trying to get your beautiful little arm free. You start howling. I start breathing faster. My soothing words come out higher pitched. I take my eyes off the needle, now making me dizzy as I watch it move around under your skin.
I worry about the little boy outside, who is hearing you and who still has another stick to go, or maybe his didn't work the first time...

EITHER!

It didn't work. They took the needle out. No blood in the vial. I swallow my stomach which is now in my throat and hold you to my chest as you cry. The mom guilt part of me threatens to punch myself in the face.

They put a tie around your other arm. The nurse looks at me apologetically as you start to wail again (no needle this time, but you know what's coming). The little boy outside is wailing now listening to Anna. Thankfully, they can't feel a vein good enough to try again. I think, "Thank GOD!" and "Never again!" and the words "recommended, not required" keep running through my head, eating away at my mommy self confidence.

They say, "you can reschedule in a few days". In my head: "I can reschedule... NEVER!" I scoop you up and we rush out. I don't even look at the mom holding the crying little boy, still to be stuck.... again.

I call Curt to an emergency meeting at Daisy Delight. Anna needs some ice cream: stat!
We get home. I have to rush off to work to see a client who only comes in on Mondays. (More mom guilt... someone ELSE pay Curt's loans. I'm needed at home!) I get through it and get home. Stomach still hurting. You have a delightful evening and show no signs of trauma.


But a mommy remembers. I can't stop seeing your poor little arm.

Oh WHERE did mommy put the good wine??????????

1 comment:

  1. so true. i don't think i could watch alex do that. i feel like they just pricked him for a dab of blood for anemia. not sure. where are you working? are you a therapist? (i'm guessing not groupwork).

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