KampKrug

Maybe I should just stop taking B vitamins so I don’t have as much energy left over at the end of the day, but I’m having trouble falling asleep at night lately. Part of it is just being very busy right now but the other part is a burden I seem to be carrying for the human toll the disaster in Haiti has wrought. Of course there have been other huge natural disasters which I have followed closely but this is different somehow and I am not sure why. It may be the simple matter of seeing a baby born hours after the quake being carried in the arms of a young US military medic. That poor baby had lost her mother. Our prayers are with all the families affected by this. I wish we could do more than send money to buy water, but some day we will. Sam is collecting money at his party instead of presents so he can help other five-year-olds. We are convinced this will be a better week in Haiti, despite what all the news reports are saying about mounting frustrations. Just get them water, please…

On a somewhat lighter note…we had a rather challenging day today. Two well-child visits, followed by S H O T S. If you know me, you know I’ve long educated Sam about how cool it is to have an immune system, how your body differentiates good guys from bad guys, how shots are like showing your body a “mug shot” of the “bad guys” so they can be eradicated… But the last several shots (flu, then this 5  yr old roundup) have become epic. And the clinic set-up doesn’t help. You do your well-child visit in the exam room with the doc, have a great time, all is well…then you are walked at a very brisk pace over to the INNOCULATION ROOM. Where you sit. And sit. And sit. You wait for them to draw up the stuff, do everyone else, listen to the other kids scream. And wait. So today I took my boys outside to wait. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Even as we entered the hallway to THE ROOM, Sam knew where we were going. He started resisting. Then he started running.

I don’t know who had what with them at the time – water bottles (for constant hydration!), purses flying, arms flailing (Ben) and legs running (Sam). The poor pediatrician somehow ended up with Ben in his arms while I went after Sam. As I wrestled him back in the hallway, I told the ped I’d done everything to avoid this drama – bribes, books, bravado – nothing works. I asked (Mom says I was wide-eyed myself by this point) if he had any suggestions (I’m thinking if he says just quack like a duck, I’ll DO it!). Nah, he says. You’ve done it all. So we proceeded.

I got Sam calmed down, focused on let’s find out how many we need (thinking it’ll be one). Nuts…turned out it was 3 or 4. So I took the kids outside to play. And play. And play. Finally when it’s about our turn, we go in. Sam is still being brave, quiet, thinking, pondering. No big deal it seems like. Then all of a sudden, as it’s literally our turn to go in (with all these other parents watching, mind you) he bolts! Again! For the door! He’s rounding a corner and about to get away. I sailed after him and wrangled him back. There’s no bargaining at this point. I’m feeling bad, but he has to get them. And no amount of education will make it ok with him.

I had already asked that a big guy be on standby to help me hold 59 lb Sam in the chair. Unfortunately, everyone is very clinical about all this, and they move slowly, getting the gloves on. I’m like my G-D! Just hold the kid – there’s no body fluids being excreted right now. But he was smart as it turned out – Sam sometimes drools and froths when he gets very excited, so those gloves were wise. I had arms pinned, big muscle guy had legs. Two shots in one leg and one in the other (during which he didn’t make a peep!!!). We’re good now until he’s 10. At that point, I think Dave will get the pleasure. And then it was Ben’s turn, four shots. Same drill. Then to get shakes for everyone. I was a bit traumatized by that whole evolution, but we were beginning to laugh about it by the time we had shakes in hand. Then it was time for the commissary…are you tired yet?

Tonight Sam and I reenacted the run-down-the-hall thing…as I wrangled him, I could see us in the mirror at the end of the hall. We were smiling at each other as I grabbed him in a one-armed hug-lock. He actually was very brave, all things considered. Imagine being so scared of something you feel the need to run from it. Then you have to wait 45+ minutes for it to happen, and you manage to fight back the thoughts and stay calm that whole time. I am not sure I could do that. I would be very jittery. I told him he was very brave afterwards and he seemed to appreciate that. While I wanted my son to be strong and just get the shot, I have learned an important lesson in acceptance and appreciating another person’s unique perspective.