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Tuesday, March 22, 2011

We Won't Do That Again

Today, I had to have blood taken yet again during this pregnancy.  I have a condition called hypothyroidism that requires life long monitoring and it is especially important during pregnancy.  It was time for another check.
Up to this point, I had managed to have My Husband around most of the time when I needed blood drawn so that The Girls could stay with him.  The one time he couldn't be there, The Little One went with me.  I was worried about taking her with me, but more so because I was afraid of my reaction in front of her, rather than her own reaction.  I almost always start to cry when I have blood taken, and have to deep breath to keep from freaking and/or passing out.  Having your child with you, though, makes you straighten up and act right, if at all possible.  When she went, I did my level best to stay very calm and focus on her.  For one moment, she looked like she might get upset, but I started to talk to her, and reassure her that I was ok, and she was fine.  In fact, having her there, and being focused on keeping her calm, probably helped me and made me calmer than I ever had been before.
Today, though, I waited too late to go during school, and I had to get this done.  That means both girls had to go with me.
Of the two girls, I would say that The Little One is the tougher of the two when it comes to all things "owie".  She gets a bump, and just rolls on.  When she has gotten shots, she gives the nurse a mean look, tells her it hurts, and then moves on as soon as a sucker is dangled before her.  The Big One is far more dramatic.  Everything is life ending, no matter what it is, when it comes to medical procedures.  Getting a splinter out of her finger probably sounds like I am actually removing the finger to anyone listening.  The idea of taking her with me wasn't my first choice, but by then, I really didn't have another.

On the way to pick The Big One up from school, I let The Little One know that we were going to go have let someone take some blood from mommy.  She was pretty ok with it, as long as they weren't taking pee too this time, which is apparently for more disturbing to her than having them take and test my blood.  Then, I told her that her big sister would probably get upset, and I really needed her to hold her sister's hand, and make sure she was ok.  I know that sounds odd, asking the nearly 4 year old to comfort the nearly 8 year old, but if you know them, you know I meant it.

We get The Big One and I tell her where we are going.  She immediately cringes as I start telling her.  Then, bless her heart, The Little One turns to The Big One and tells her that she knows she will be scared, but it will be ok, because they will hold hands, and the Little One promises to take care of her.  It was adorable.

Right before we left for the lab, My Husband managed to call home, and I joked with him that I would have The Big One turn and face the wall so that she wouldn't see anything.  I didn't need to be worried about that, at least.  When they called us back to the room, she actually turned toward the wall, without my ever saying anything to her, and said she didnt' want to see anything.  She tried to make The Little One face the wall as well, but that wasn't going to happen.  The Little One wasn't scared, didn't care, and didn't want to face the wall.
It takes the phlebotomist a minute or so to find a vein that will work, as I also happen to be a hard stick.  I'm trying to remain very calm, and not even breath like it is bothering me.  It takes a couple of minutes to get the blood, but she finally gets enough.  She puts the gauze on, and has me hold it.  Now, at this point, I am totally fine.  Once the needle is gone, I could care less what else happens.  The Big One is still standing there, back turned, but that is all I can really see as the phlebotomist was blocking my view.  As soon as she moves, though, I saw her crying.  She was upset.  Shaking a little, but trying her best to be ok.  I knew she wasn't.  I started talking to her.  I couldn't get up yet and that was all I could do.  "I'm ok."  "It's ok". Those were the only things i could say to her.  As soon is I could get up, I put my arms around her and hugged her.  She took a minute, and calmed down.  I had to make her know that I was ok, though.

Later on in the evening, she came to me, and tried to take my arm to look at the tape and gauze still on it.  She wanted to make sure I was ok.  I pulled my arm back, and just pulled her too me for a hug, instead.  I didn't even want her to see it, because I am pretty sure just the sight of the bandage would bother her.

I love that girl dearly, and I know she is really a sensitive, sweet child.  She will always be the one who needs extra love when we have to do anything medical.  I know she will probably get upset when she comes to see me in the hospital, and I am slowly trying to prepare her now.  I am so thankful that she will have MimMim here then, who will be able to give her all the extra loving she needs to get through something that will be hard for her to see, too.  Hopefully, we can keep her focused on the good things, like her new little sister, and keep her from thinking about the bad stuff.   I will try to keep all that away from her as much as possible, and that includes any more blood draws from here on out.

1 comments:

MySweetCreations said...

The little one is so brave, such a great story. I have autoimmune hypothyroidism and I just had my worst stick this week. I use to be one of those people that got really, really worked up when I had my blood drawn, sometime even passing out. Once I developed autoimmune issues, I quickly learned to deal with it as I was getting tested every 6-8 weeks for the last couple of years. My daughter is a brave little one and I tell her what happens and how we must be brave (because sometime it may be her sitting in that chair getting blood drawn and I want to set a brave example for her). A few months ago, I was getting some extensive testing done and I have 13 tubes of blood drawn, I wasn't sure if there was anything left in me! I began to pass out, it was awful and I was tearing up and my daughter began to pat my leg and rub me to comfort me. So sweet! Thanks for sharing your story!