Flu Shot Fun

I took the Curly Girlies to get flu shots yesterday.  We don't do the mist and for us, that's not even an option.  Last year, I made the mistake of telling the girls what we were doing and when we got to the clinic in Target (of course!), L took one look around and went running out, managing to get half way down the store before I caught up to her.  This year, I decided to be more sneaky.

"We have to run to Target," I told the girls after they had finished their homework yesterday.

"Why?," M asked.

"I forgot to get something this morning," I said, not really fibbing, since I really did forget 2 things.

"Can we get a cookie?," she asked eagerly.

"We'll see," I said.  "Maybe when we're finished."

We walked into the store and directly to the clinic.  L was none the wiser and just followed along.

"Why are we here?," asked M.

"Oh, just because," I replied.

"I know why we're here!," exclaimed B, rather happily.

"Do not say a word," I said, nodding my head towards L.

"Wait," M said, hesitantly.  "Are we here for a-"

"Do not say it!," I said through clenched teeth.

"I'll spell it.  Are we here for a s-h-o-t?"

"Yes," I answered, giving my insurance card to the girl behind the desk.

"A shot?!?," L asked fearfully.  "We're here for a shot???"

The good news is, L knows how to spell "shot"!

"I don't like shots!," she sobbed, crying big, fat crocodile tears.  "I'm afraid of them!"

"You aren't getting a shot right now," a nurse practitioner said, trying to calm her.

"I'm not?," L asked, instantly perking up.  "Only B and M are getting it?"

"Nope, you are too!," I answered cheerfully, popping her bubble.

That set off a fresh set of tears.  While we were waiting, L calmed down a bit and I explained how we were going to do this to the girls.

"I go first, then L, M and lastly B."

"I want to go last!!!," L cried.

"What??   You hate being last," I reminded her.

"No, I don't!," she argued.  "I don't want to be first."

"Can I be first?," B begged eagerly.

"Yeah!," L exclaimed, brightening up. "Let B go first!"

"But, L," I replied.  "You always say how much you hate being last."

"I do hate being last," she finally agreed, with her head cocked to one side.  "But I think it would be nicest to let B go first."

At that, we were called into the room.  I popped up on to the examine table and said, "See, this is going to be just fine."

The nurse gave me my shot, and it didn't hurt a bit!

"Wow!," I smiled.  "That didn't hurt at all!  OK, L, you're next."

"No! No!! No!!!," she cried.

The nurse suggested B go next, to show her sisters how to be brave.  Now, B is the oddity who loves shots and finger sticks for blood samples, so she's really not your average child.  She took the shot like a champ and agreed that it didn't hurt at all.

"OK, M.  Your turn, let's show L how to do this," I said, turning to M.

"Aaaguh!!!," M screamed, backing away.  "NO!!  I don't want too!"

For a minute, I forgot who I was dealing with and thought it was L.

"Come on, M," I said.  "How old are you?"

"8, but I hate shots," she sobbed, sitting in the chair and not on the table.

"You know, the nurse can give you the shot anywhere,  You don't need to be sitting on the table," I told her, quite annoyed.

She put out her arms and said in a robotic voice, "I am not M.  I am the chair.  Chairs don't get shots."

"Alright.  Enough of this," I grunted, heaving her up.  Finally, after much cajoling and tears, we finally got M onto the table and she took her shot like a champ, well a scared champ.  Perhaps the vowel is wrong and the word should be chimp.  Yeah, she took her shot like a scared chimp.

"Wow!," she exclaimed to L.  "That didn't hurt at all!"

"Great," I said dryly.  "All L is going to remember is how you screamed and carried on like a 4 year old."

"I did not!," she retorted.  Right. . . OK.

"Come on, L," I said cheerily.  "Let's get this over with."

L started screaming the way I scream on roller coasters.

"Aaugh!  Aaugh!!!  Aaugh!!!!  I hate shots!!  Aaugh!  Aaugh!!  Aaugh!!!  I'm afraid of shots!!  Aaugh!   Aaugh!!  Aaugh!!!!," she was sobbing and screaming at the same time, while running for the door and trying to open it.

"Nope," I said, lifting her up.

"I don't want to get a shot," she hiccuped.

"Look," the nurse said, showing L her open hands.  "I'm not holding anything.  Let's just talk."

"I'm not getting a shot?," L asked cautiously.

"Oh, you are," I said.  "The sooner we do this, the sooner we can leave."

"Aaugh!!!," the tears and the screams started up again.

I sat down on the table and lifted her on to my lap.  She was so wriggly and as hard as I tried to keep her hands away, she kept getting her right hand up to push away the needle.  Finally, the nurse called in one of the other nurses, and it took the 2 of us to hold this 35 pound child down.

You never realize how strong a 5 year old is until you go to give them a shot.

"L," I bribed.  "If you get your shot, I'll buy you a present."  I am not above bribery, though I admit, it's not my finest parenting moment.

"Aaugh!!!," she screamed.  While she was screaming, the nurse poked her with the syringe.

"It's over!," the nurse exclaimed.

"It is?," asked L, with tears streaming down her face.  "That wasn't so bad!"

"Really?," I asked.

"Really!," she agreed.  "It only hurt a pinch and I was very brave!  Can we go get my toy now?"

I suppose since she actually stayed in the clinic, this is a step up from last year.  We walked out of the room to stares from the full waiting room. "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?," I asked the Curly Girlies as we marched into the store.

"It wasn't bad at all," crowed L.  "Next year I won't scream at all."

I only wish I'd recorded that so I can play it next year when the screaming resumes.