Today was the day. The day that makes my children wish there were only 364 days in the year...and this is the one they'd like to see taken away. It was the day of their annual physical. I can sympathize. I was never real calm about going to the doctor...or dentist for that matter...as a child. In fact I can remember very early dentist appointments where I hid behind the sofa in the waiting room, because no one could reach back there and there was NO WAY I was going to willingly enter the dentist office. Yeah, dream on, people.
Now, as an adult, I'm better. It's still not a favorite thing for me, but I don't fit behind the sofa anymore, so what's the use in freaking out? People point and laugh...and that doesn't help.
But wait...this is about my girls' big day.
I told them this morning that today was the day. They asked about shots and I wasn't completely sure about them so I just told them I didn't know, that we'd have to see.
After school we hopped in the car and headed for the doctor's office. They entere pre-panic mode at that point. They behaved as though reasonable, but their guards were up. As we were taken back by the nurse, the first things the girls said were, "DO WE NEED SHOTS??!" She tells them that they'd have to wait and see what the doctor said.
They're still functioning pretty well, ... seemingly happy and eager to show off for the nurse. So far so good.
In came the doctor. Before she could even say hello, "DO WE NEED SHOTS??!!" She laughed and said, "Hold on. Don't I get to even introduce myself??" (Nice evasion, don't you think?)
We go through the whole rigamarole (sp?) and yes, indeed, a finger-prick and one shot apiece. They were over joyed and it began to show.
Megan begins getting "pacey." The cage isn't big enough and she'd like free run of the zoo. Historically this is normal for Megan. However, TODAY was also historical for Megan, because today Megan handled ALMOST the entire visit with calm. There was one moment when she began to panic and she listened to me (okay and felt that my bulging biceps were not going to give in and let her bolt) and she took a few deep breaths and stayed calm. Not a tear, not a scream. About the worst of her reactions was "That hurt SOOO bad!" after the finger-prick. And the only reason that was negative was because Allison had tunneled under the chairs and had already been crying for about ten minutes...in anticipation of it all.
With Megan done, the male nurse and I began to try to get Alli out from under the chairs. We found it was much easier to just removed the chairs. (Tonight she told me she thought the chairs were bolted to the ground. It must have been quite a disappointment to see how easily I lifted them, lol.) I won't bother with a blow by blow, but I am confident to say that I could have taken the heavyweight belt in a wrestling match today. Yep, hold down a terrified 7-year-old for a vaccination in her thigh and it will prove how much strength you have. So...bring it! lol (I can't even pull that off in print, ::sigh::.)
Anyway, although Alli did a whole lot of resisting and a whole lot of crying, even she was better than the past couple years. And Megan...WOW...she is DEFINITELY growing up. It's moments like this when I realize how much she's maturing. Two years ago I almost lost my hearing listening to her scream through a couple shots, a finger-prick, and a TB test. I called my mom half-way across the country to ask if she'd heard the screams. And man! What a wrestling match! Add some pudding or mudd and you've got an event at the county fair, I'm tellin' ya! And then Alli did the same thing. It's a wonder I have any hearing left at all.
Thank goodness it's only once a year.