This past Tuesday, I took The Diva down for her first ever school physical. Even though she had her yearly physical in March, the school district needed some "extras" including a urine dip, TB test, complete blood panel, blood lead test and an iron level. I even got her to pee in the cup. Want to know how? I told her she needed to pee in the "jar" so that Dr. F could check to make sure she wasn't sick. She wanted to know "why". I told her because they couldn't take her pee pee out of the toilet, it had to go in the cup. She still wanted to know "why". I then told her that if she didn't pee in the cup so Dr. F could test it then she wouldn't be able to go to preschool. Still skeptical, she agreed. Then she got me back by telling me that she had to pee three times before actually peeing in said cup.
So there I was, for the third time, on my knees in front of the toilet, holding a cup under my daughter and praying the pee didn't take a wild turn and hit me in in the eye! Oh Lord! And it actually made it into the cup and not the floor or my face. I did need to disinfect my hands, though.
Next, was the TB test. The Diva started screaming as soon as she saw Miss Silvie put on her gloves. So we laid her down on the exam table, Miss Sylvie held her arm while the "new" nurse supposedly held her upper body. Seeing that Ro was going to be completely uncooperative, I jumped up on the table, straddled my daughter's legs and held her firmly in place. She still managed to wriggle too much and almost made the test not viable. This was mainly because the "new" nurse didn't have the wherewithal to actually hold The Diva down and of course, Ro was screaming the whole time. To a stranger, it probably sounded like she was being tortured!
Then we had to go downstairs to the lab for the blood draw. As soon as we walked in, we heard the blood curdling screams of another child. Oh joy! Yes, this after being told through tearful words, how that shot had hurt her so much and she did not want another one, EVER, during our four minute walk to the lab. Mother's guilt, anyone? After waiting for about five minutes, we were called back to the blood draw area. I sat The Diva on my lap while the Phlebotomist made the biggest mistake of her life: She told Ro she was getting another shot.
Oh, good God! Ro screamed, locked her arms around my neck and yelled, "I DON'T WANT ANYMORE SHOTS!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun...
The staff decided to take my baby to the exam room and lay her down on the table with her legs hanging off the end. It took FOUR nurses PLUS the Phlebotomist to hold her still. All the while she was screaming "NOOOOOO! I WANT TO GO HOME! MOMMY MAKE THEM STOP!!" I felt horrible. I wanted to get this on video, mainly to show her Daddy what I have to see when I take her to the doctor, but I thought that might be in poor taste. I stayed in the doorway the whole time, feeling badly, but giggling a bit at the same time over The Diva's dramatics. I am not saying it didn't hurt her, but man, you would have thought they were trying to amputate a limb without anesthesia!
She did perk up a bit after she was given three suckers {A rare treat} by the nurse. But she did not let it go for a good few hours after we got home. She even had to pull out the tears to tell Daddy all about her day's trauma. It was priceless. The trembling lower lip, the tears, the "It hurt me, Daddy. Really, really bad."Someday all her theatrics will pay off, she will win an Oscar and I will be thanked on National TV! We don't call her Drama Queen for nothin'!
But next time she needs shots, I am sending her Daddy to take her. I think he really needs to experience the full Diva effect for himself. And for once, I would just like to hear about it, rather experience the heart wrenching pain of feeling like I am subjecting my baby girl to torturous medical procedures.
Next Time, Daddy Can Take The Drama Queen!
https://damnvoicesagain.blogspot.com/2009/08/next-time-daddy-can-take-drama-queen.html
