I had to take DC for bloodwork for the second time ever, this week. Because of his seizure medication, bloodwork will become a regular part of his life. I am thankful that due to the type of seizure medication that he is on, he will not have to go for bloodwork every month or even close to as often as some of his friends do – small favors. After all of the chaos during his last visit and even though he realized in the end that it did not hurt at all, I was worried that the ‘not hurting’ part was not going to be what he remembered. The ‘needle’ part is what makes him anxious.
I put his bloodwork off for a couple of weeks because I was scheduled for a physical myself which normally includes bloodwork. I was hoping that we would be able to go together so he could watch me and see that there is nothing to be afraid of.
We talked about it for weeks. I reminded him that it did not hurt. He seemed relatively calm – until we arrived and were in the waiting room. His reaction was just like, if not worse than it was the first time.
The people at the lab were nice enough to let us go together. I wasn’t sure if they remembered him from the last time or if it was just about him losing it at the reception window, or both – but they obliged.
Still, I was not sure if me going first was THE best way to go. I was on the fence. This could go very wrong. On one hand; he could watch me and understand that it does not hurt – on the other hand; THE NEEDLE – he would be watching the needle.
I was still debating in my head when we were called inside and at the last second I decided to go first. He watched every move the lab tech made very intently. He was interested, not fearful at all. When it was his turn, he sat in the chair and insisted on watching the whole thing. He saw the needle and he watched the whole procedure without making a sound. Even with all of the prep beforehand and watching me, I never thought it would go that easily.
The second they were finished, he lost control – jumping, stimming and yelling. Maybe it took a lot out of him to keep himself in control for the needle and he just had to let go when it was over, I don’t know. I do know that even with the before and after commotion, this time was so much easier than the last.
In my opinion, his “Sir DC the Brave” title remains firmly intact….
From August 2015:
“They call me Sir DC the Braaaave”“and history someday will rave…….”
DC had to go for blood work today. He has never had to have blood drawn before. They did take blood in the ER after his first seizure but he was so “out of it” that he did not give them a problem about it at all.
DC has always been very healthy so his doctor and I had decided to put off blood tests unless it was necessary because having blood drawn would entail making an appointment at the hospital to have him put out – an all day affair. He is big and he is strong. Even when he was younger and had to have a vaccination, I had to bring reinforcements to the Doctor’s office. Most of the time we had, his Dad, Doug, me, the assistant and the doctor in the examination room. No one could hold him, no one. It was exhausting and even with all of us trying to hold on to him, the doctor would eventually have to resort to chasing him around the room until she had a semi-good shot at sticking him. I often wondered if he ever actually got everything that was in the needle.
Well, we could put if off no longer. Due to his seizures and medications, he had to have blood drawn. He did let the paramedics put an IV in during his second ride to the hospital and he was much more alert that time. Hoping that he remembered this, I decided we would try to go to a regular lab. I talked to him and explained what they were going to do. I also explained that if he did not let them take the blood at the lab we would have to go to the hospital to have it done. He did NOT want to go to the hospital again.
He was all right until we got to the waiting room at the lab. He was in full-on anxiety mode – yelling “I do believe in fairies, I do believe in fairies, I do believe in fairies.”, jumping up, yelling and making his noises quite loudly.
We got him into the drawing room and into the chair and at this point he had calmed down enough that I really thought we would be able to do this – until he saw the needle.
Let the battle begin.
The technician called for back up and fortunately Doug had come with me as reinforcement. Still no one could hold him. It had gotten to the point where as great as the staff was, I knew they could not do this much longer. They gave it one last try with Doug actually laying across his free arm and all of us holding the “needle arm”. As soon as he saw the needle go in he stopped fighting and let them finish. Sometimes the anticipation is worse than the actual event.
He was fine. He was proud of himself. “I did it! I did it!”
When we walked out of the room all eyes were on us from the now very crowded waiting room. I am sure they wanted to see who had been causing all of that commotion. I could not care less. He did it and that was all that mattered. DC, with a wave and a smile yelled “Good-bye Ladies” and we were off.
In the car on the way to breakfast before heading to work, DC was so proud and not wanting us to forget it, began singing a song. I recognized it from when he was young, but I hadn’t heard it in years. I could not even remember where it came from:
(his name has been muted out of the video)
(A reenactment, of course)
“They call me sir DC, the brave,
and history someday will rave
I’m valiant and daring, and noble of bearing
Courageous and gallant, a mountain of talent.
No wonder folks curtsey and wave
I’m Robin, Sir DC, the brave.”
Later I asked him what movie he remembered that song is from.
The Frog Prince – the Muppet version, of course.
He was brave, very brave. I am happy he is so proud of himself. Hopefully this means that the next time might go much easier.
Now next up…. the MRI……
That should be something!
(video begins at 2:44 – at the song)
Way to go, DC!
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I know – In DC-speak; “Phew!”
Wow! Did you write about the MRI? I like how you put the previous story in some posts. Love that he sang a brave song afterward. And he is brave. I can NOT look at the needle. I can’t tell you how big or small any needle is that I have ever been poked with. Once in the hospital, I asked if the IV could be put where I didn’t have to look at it. It was in my hand and it seemed to hurt because I could see it. The moved it to my arm in the area where blood is drawn. That was better.
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I did. “I am so Proud of Me” is the title. I’m not a fan of looking at the needle either and I tried very hard not to make any sort of face when they poked me 🙂 – I have had an IV in the hand as well and it does hurt more but maybe you are right – because I can see it. I never thought about it that way.