Trauma or Drama?

When Schuyler was two I had to take her to get a lead test (a RI DOH requirement). It wasn’t just a finger prick. We were sitting together in the chair where they drew blood, me holding her in my lap so she wouldn’t squirm. It was the whole experience, tying off the arm, inserting the needle, and drawing viles of blood. They couldn’t find her vein and had several attempts. She was screaming, and I was crying and it was the most traumatic event I had experienced as a mother.......

That was topped when Schuyler was four and had stomach pain in the middle of the night. With fear of an appendicitis we took her to the emergency room where they ran every test possible (to find nothing), and put a catheter in her (again having several attempts because they couldn’t get it right). Curtis and I held her down, she was screaming, and of course I was sobbing......

Yet again, the trauma has been trumped…… The school nurse has called twice to say that Schuyler was missing a shot that she should have received at her four year old checkup, but had been overlooked since then (go figure). I suspected the kind of trauma or drama I would encounter, but had to go. On Friday we were about ten minutes from the doctor’s office when Schuyler said, “Where are we going?” I told her and she starting screaming, “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go!” She cried the rest of the way there and wouldn’t get out of the car. I had to pull her out with all my might and carry her kicking and screaming, while attending to Morgan and pushing Graydon in the stroller. While signing in she was still screaming and hiding behind a chair in protest and the whole office could hear her. One eight year old little girl came over and kept reassuring Schuyler that it would be okay (too sweet). When it was time to go into the room I had to carry her. She managed to wriggle free and ran down a long hall back to hiding behind the chair (remember I still have Morgan and Graydon with me). I carried her back and stood in front of the door just trying to love on her, and reassure her. Crying myself by this time the nurse said that she also needed a Chicken Pox shot and asked if I wanted her to have a flu shot (which she didn’t end up getting because it required coming in for a booster). I then had to hold her down with all my might while they gave her the shots. I think she was surprised how little it hurt after all was said and done (she must have really built up the pain in her mind). I just wanted to hold her and love her for as long as I could after it was over.

I felt very challenged as a parent on one hand empathizing for my daughter who is in complete fear of this shot, and on the other hand frustrated that I have to pull her out of the car and carry her kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs for a long period of time. We then proceeded to our friends the Ragsdales where I had a much needed and deserved beer, and where Graydon fell twice cutting his leg and and his mouth leaving him with a mouth full of blood (neither incident phased him to much).

Last night Schuyler's finger got twisted in a chain tire swing (for a long period of time). There was an enormous, deep indent and I have to say I was nervous, and probably don’t have to say that she was really crying. After thirty minutes I was relieved to see that it looked so much better. I said, “Schuyler, how does that feel compared to your shot? Shots don’t hurt very much, do they?” She agreed!

We know that we are very fortunate and blessed that this is the extent of the trauma in our lives, we send out our thoughts and prayers to the Sweet family whose 11 year old daughter Kayla has brain cancer (http://www.kaylasweet.blogspot.com/). We unfortunately were unable to attend her benefit dinner yesterday, but are glad we could contribute to her living trust.

On a lighter note, here are some beautiful pictures: