Monday, July 20, 2009

Big Girls Do Cry...

...and then, it seems, they apologize.

Or at least Lilli did this afternoon after receiving her Hep A vaccine.

You (or at least I) just don't think they're going to remember a vaccination that last happened 6 months ago, but Lilli sure did. Last night we were watching "Bear in the Big Blue House: Visiting the Doctor with Bear". She was watching the different scenarios very closely and finally turned to me and said "I no want shot right now." I said something to the effect that I knew she didn't, but I had gotten some stuff that might help (more on that later) it not hurt so much. She considered this and said, pointing at her thighs, "Booboos right there?" I said yes. She emphatically said "I no want it." She spent most of the ride to the office (between the songs I was attempting to distract her with) engaging in a long monologue to herself that I could only understand part of. Mostly the words "checkup", "no", and "shot". Oh yeah, and "NO!". And then, on the first glimpse she got of Nurse Dawn calling back another little girl, she velcroed herself to me with both arms and legs and refused to let go until we were back in our room. And that was only so she could be measured and weighed in the "boat", and that was not by choice. She wasn't crying or anything, but she looked terrified. And she wouldn't talk to the nurse, which of course made me look completely stupid as I was telling (ok, maybe bragging a little bit) Dawn about her skills. Sure, she knows her all her body parts, colors, shapes, alphabet letters out of context, and can count to 30 while only missing the number 14, but if she's not going to even tell the nurse which Princess was decorating her birthday cake, who's going to believe me?

Fortunately she talked to her doctor (She calls him Dr. Papa, because he has white hair like her Papa and is also older), quite extensively, demonstrated many of the things she can do, and that she is in excellent health, and was even quite charming on top of it (her only uncooperative moment was refusing to say "Ahhhhh" on cue), and passed her exam with flying colors. And I, who look at these checkups as the parenting equivalent to a quarterly review, passed also by extension. *whew*

She accepted her hemoglobin stick like a champ (even though she did look very accusingly at Lourdes and say "OW!" before graciously accepting a smiley face drawing on her bandaid), and seemed quite ready for her Hep A. Only to demonstrate that she wasn't.

And that was my fault.

Parents or Parenting (I can't ever remember which is which) did an article a month or two ago, about making injections less painful. Not only did I read the article myself, but it seems that podcasts I listen to and blogs I read have been talking about it. They talk about topical numbing creams possibly making this experience pretty much painless, which naturally is a lot more pleasant for everyone. They talked about EMLA cream, but that has to be prescribed by a doctor and applied a good half hour in advance. Well, something I read or heard suggested using Bactine or any anesthetic spray of the First Aid variety, and I got some to try. But of course I told my baby about it without spraying myself to see if it did anything, or confirming with my doctor's office that I'd even be allowed to use it. Realizing this en route to our appointment, I took my life into my hands to spray myself, and didn't feel a thing, except a slight cooling. I thought though that since baby skin is thinner than adult skin, that it might help her. But when I asked, they said that sure, I could use it, but it, and even the EMLA cream don't do anything for the deeper layers, like the muscles that these vaccinations are being injected into, and that they tend not to work at all on the babies and toddlers (who psychological tricks don't do much for) and to completely erase all pain from the older kids because even water would work if you told them the shot wouldn't hurt.


Well, I put it on anyway, and Lilli knew what I was doing and was completely prepared for the shot not to hurt. And then it did. Bad Mama! And she went from lounging sleepily back in a relaxed fashion to having her eyes suddenly open wide in shock, and she HOWLED. For a good 30 seconds. At which she realized that it was all over and struggled manfully to get herself under control. And then THANKED NURSE DAWN. And then while I was getting her shoes on said "I sowry (sorry) I cwying." Horrified, because this was of course ALL MY FAULT, I said, "That's ok, honey, you're supposed to cry when you get a shot! I feel like crying myself now!" And she said "Shot huwt (hurt), I sowry."


What, does she think being 2 means she's not supposed to cry when she gets hurt now? I wish I could get inside her head! Oh, and I also wish I hadn't fallen prey to Internet rumors of pain free vaccinations!

Stats: 36.5 inches tall- Above the 95th percentile, her usual place on the chart.
Weight: 28 pounds- 75th percentile, also her regular spot on the graph.
Head circumference- no number given, 75th percentile, still her regular spot.

Diagnosis: Tall and skinny, "Outstanding"

In my words, the Mary Poppins standard of measurement: "Practically Perfect in Every Way".

*sigh* I do love her.


Sprite's Keeper said...

I don't know why, but Sprite does not react to the doctor's office at all. We go, we see the doctor, who's a lovely woman by the way, if she gets a shot, she maybe cries for about thirty seconds, gets her sticker, and it's over. She doesn't look to the doctor as the place where we get shots. Maybe it's because I don't talk it up or down? I just hope she moves through the experience and shakes it off.
I know. I'm ignorant. :-)

Rachel said...

Not ignorant, just very lucky!