Shots and Character

Shots & needles. I hate them. Not for me so much, but for the kids. I thought it would get easier as the kids got older, but it hasn't (sorry Leah).

I can still remember very vividly taking Tyler in to have his blood drawn when he was less than a week old. One of his newborn blood tests from the hospital came back a little off, so he had to have a more extensive work up done. In the hospital they just pricked his heal. This time they had to actually find a vein in that teeny tiny newborn arm and draw blood. It was horrible. I had to pin his little arms down while the nurse tried to find a vein. (They even put the little rubber tourniquet on his arm.) It took her several tries, and I know it had to hurt him. All I wanted to do was pick him up and comfort him, but I had to keep those matchstick arms pinned down until the deed was done. Both the nurse and I were close to tears by the time she was done. (His blood work came back ok that time.)

From that early time in Tyler's young life, I have dreaded check-ups that would include needles (such as vaccinations). I thought maybe it would get easier as the kids got older. You know, reasoning with them and such over the benefits of the vaccination and it only hurting for a second. I guess it does help that I can prepare them for it ahead of time (I think), but it's really not any easier for me. What bothers me now is that look. In that millisecond that the needle punctures their flesh, their eyes flash to mine and I suddenly feel as if I've betrayed them. Instead of protecting them (I know, vaccinations really are protecting them), I'm holding them down for someone else to cause them pain, no matter how fleeting.

Danielle had her 3 year check-up today. Apparently Ohio has added a new "highly recommended" shot for Hepatitis A. (In some states it's mandatory; In ours, just highly recommended.) So Danielle got that shot today. As our doctor was leaving so the nurse could come in and administer the shot, Tyler asked for a sucker. Our doctor said, "You can get one in a few minutes. Danielle has to get some medicine in her leg first." Well, Danielle thought that was just hilarious. Medicine in her leg? She threw her head back and laughed. Tyler did not. He immediately got very serious and said, "Mom, does Danielle have to get a shot?" No fooling this kid. Danielle stopped laughing. Tyler quickly volunteered to sit beside her and hold her hand 21 tight so it wouldn't hurt so badly. ("21" is a super huge number to him. In this instance it symbolizes an extreme amount - as tight as he possibly could.)

Tyler, looking very serious, hopped up on the table with her. We started talking and laughing about other things until the nurse walked in. When she did, all laughter halted. Danielle told the nurse that Ty was going to hold her hand. She still gets her shots in her thighs, so she laid down (with her head in Tyler's lap). Tyler grabbed her hand and held on. The nurse gave her the shot very quickly, and Danielle's eyes flashed to mine. I got "the look". Her face turned red and her lip stuck out. She was on the verge of crying. I looked up at her hand to see Tyler holding it so tightly that his hand was white. In case that was causing the red face, I pulled their hands apart and quickly sat her up. Tyler made over her "blue raindrop bandaid". He kissed her on the cheek and patted her shoulder. I got them both off the table and they trotted off down the hallway together to get a sucker. Danielle sniffled a little, but she never shed a tear. I was so proud of both of them.

Tonight when Ron called, Danielle told him about getting the shot. When Ron asked if it hurt, she said "No, Daddy. Ty hold my hand!" Tyler corrected her, "Actually, I squeezed it so the shot wouldn't hurt so bad." As I was tucking him in to bed tonight, I told him again how proud I was of him. He said, "I just didn't want Danielle to get hurt because I love her."

I guess Tyler summed up my real problem with shots & needles (and mean kids and boo-boos and illnesses of all varieties): I just don't want them to hurt, not even for a second, because I love them. When I've mentioned these feelings to Ron on other occasions, he reminds me that these hurts help our children to develop their character - character such as comforting a nervous and fearful little sister when she has to have a shot.