Shots

Yesterday Danielle had her 4 year check-up. She's still tall for her age (90th percentile) and proportionate in her weight (75th percentile, glad it's not the other way around!). The nurse did notice that her scapulas are uneven, which may indicate a problem such as scoliosis. Ron and I had already noticed her spine seemed a little crooked before this visit. Since her muscles are still developing, they decided not to take xrays for another year. Hopefully she'll outgrow it, but since my brother and I both have scoliosis, the odds probably aren't in her favor. They also had her read an eye chart. (She was 20/20 in one eye and 20/30 in the other.) Fortunately I really didn't know for sure if she was going to get any shots, so I didn't have to deal with that before hand. But she did indeed have to get a shot...two of them.

Waiting for the nurse to bring the shot needles in after the exam is over is the worst part, I think. It gives the child time to think about what is coming and to work him/herself up into a good panic by the time the nurse returns. At least, that's what happened the last time Tyler had a shot. Danielle didn't get quite as panicky, but she was nervous. In an effort to take her mind off the task at hand, I told the kids about one time when I was little and had to get a shot. This is how I remember the story, the reality of the event may actually be different, but this is how I remember it:

I was three and had to have a shot. I was wearing knit pants and maroon knee socks (no shoes). When I knew it was time to get the shot, I ran away from everyone and back out to the waiting room. Sesame Street was playing on the tv in the waiting room as I hid between two big plants. My hiding place wasn't that secretive because the next memory I have of the event is being back in the exam room, lying on the metal table. I had a sucker, but I don't think I had had my shot yet. I remember kicking my legs and flailing my arms. And then the most memorable part of the experience happened - I had my sucker in my hand while waving my arms around and managed to get the sucker stuck to the toe of my maroon knee socks in the midst of my flailing. Not only did I have to get a shot, but I lost my sucker in the process! (It's funny to me now that I don't remember the shot at all, just the sadness of losing my linty sucker. )

Danielle and Tyler both laughed. Then Tyler patted my shoulder and kindly said, "It's ok Mom. That was ok." Danielle was much braver than I had been. She cried for about 45 seconds after she got her shots, confessed she didn't "like the pointy end of those things", and then soothed her pain with a hug from her brother and a watermelon dum-dum. She wore her circle Snoopy band-aids like medals the rest of the day and worked out whatever anxiety she still had by doctoring her baby when she got home.