Daddy's Fish BowlA Clear View Of A Father's Family Experiences

Tre's War Wounds

Tre had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and in terms of smoothness, I’d rate it a 2.  Typically, he enjoys going in for his checkups.  Why wouldn’t he enjoy a trip to the doctor’s office?  I mean, he gets to play with new toys, has a nice doctor who’s great with kids, and gets stickers and a pencil after the visit.  What’s not to love right?  Oh wait, I left something out, those pesky little things called SHOTS.  Yup, that’s it, they’re enough to turn any office visit into a monstrosity.

Kids get shots all the time, you’ve dealt with them, I’ve dealt with them, they’re pretty much a way of life.  Regardless of that fact, it doesn’t make it any easier for a toddler to handle.  They could care less about the cumulative number of shots that have been given out over the centuries, all that matters now is that needle, their skin, and the piercing action that is about to take place.

Tre has had shots before and it has been no big deal, but this time was different and there are two main reasons that this visit got rated a 2 instead of the normal 4 or 5.  First, as kids get older, their memories improve and they start to remember things like: “Uhm, the last time I walked through that door, I don’t think I came out a happy camper”.  So as we are about to enter the office, Tre immediately turns around, runs away, and performs his best karaoke performance of Destiny’s Childs’ “No, No, No”.  Eventually, Fefe was able to get him to cross the threshold of darkness and enter the doctor’s office.  Once inside, things were fine and dandy.  He saw the toys and all the other bad memories faded away, it was playtime and he couldn’t be happier; until they called his name that is.  This brings us to the second reason that this trip didn’t go so well.  Usually, he gets to play with the other kids for about 15 minutes before heading back to see the doc.  Well this time they were unrepentantly fast and called Tre within 5 minutes.  You don’t give a kid a shot, no make that two shots, without sweetening the deal first; and a couple lousy minutes of playtime is about as sweet as a box of lemonheads.  Needless to say, Tre was not happy and he let it be known.

Remember that mean streak of his that I was telling you about?  Well the doctor felt the full wrath of it yesterday.  She walked in with her normal chipper demeanor, but it had no effect on Tre.  She’d say hello, Tre would turn away.  She’d try to make him laugh, he’d screw face her.  Noticing that her antics to cheer him up were falling way short of achieving that goal, she attempted to move straight into the examination.  When she went to touch Tre, he went back to singing Destiny’s Child, shouting out repeated NO’s.  She tried to touch him anyway and he made her pay, he popped her hand just like we do him when he’s not listening.  Hey, at least I know he’s paying attention and learning that actions have consequences.  What better form of expressing your knowledge than teaching someone else?  The doctor then tried another tactic that didn’t go over quite so well.  She gave him the stethoscope as a distraction.  Why she didn’t take them out of her ears first, I don’t know, but she clearly paid the price for that mistake.  Tre began to smack the stethoscope very hard, which I can imagine produced a very pleasant sound in the doctor’s ears.  I guess she had enough at this point, as the needles were called in as backup.  There may have been a slight glimmer in her eyes, knowing that she was about to make him regret the way he had treated her.  But I don’t know, if could of just been our imagination.

Two shots, a few minutes of fake tears, and a sticker & pencil later, Tre is walking out of that doctor’s office like a champ.  With his head held high and a smile on his face as if to say, “these doctor’s can’t faze me”.  But he also walked out of there with two temporary “battle scars”; his two band-aids would forever remind him (until we take them off that is) of the pain he endured during that visit.  When we got home, he would be in the middle of playing and then bust out the following: “Uh-oh, sorry” followed by crying.  It took us a while to figure out what was going on.  Tre was suffering from post-traumatic stress, every time he saw those band-aids his mind went back to that cold, dark doctor’s office and he had to relive the memories all over again.  I imagine the memory going something like this: he saw himself smacking the doctor’s hand and was saying, “uh-oh, what have I done? I’m sorry”, but his apologies were never enough to stop those shots from coming.  I’m not usually the one to laugh at my kid’s pain, but this was too funny so I had a chuckle or two.  Fefe on the other hand didn’t see the humor and put some pants on him to cover the wounds and erase the agony.  I guess that’s why he’s such a Momma’s Boy.

Do you have any horror stories of doctor visits with your kids, or even yourself?  Please share, I’d love to hear so that I’ll know we’re not alone.