In which your humble narrator takes Child #1 for his two-year check-up, marvels at his general toughness, especially when compared to his mother who is a giant weenie when it comes to needles.
We took Child #1 to his doctor today for his two-year check up. His pediatrician is a lovely family practice doctor who also delivered him (mostly)*. She's maybe a couple of years older than me and Wife. We like her and she likes us. I think since we go to a clinic in a low-rent part of town that we're probably the fanciest patients she sees in a typical day. I should also mention that we go to this clinic in a crappy neighborhood because Wife picked this doctor because she had the "friendliest" looking picture on the website of all the non-blond lady doctors at this particular health system. Wife refused to see a blond doctor. Wife is extremely prejudiced against blonds which is funny since she was a blond for most of her life (preganancy #1 darkened her hair considerably).
So we have a quick once-over of Child #1 revealing lots of information that we already know like: Child #1 is smart and verbal. Child #1 is tall and skinny. Child #1 is in seemingly perfect health.
No shots today, but we did have to get his blood drawn for a lead-level test since we live in a metropolitan area in an older house and we frequently encourage Child #1 to lick the window sills and eat dirt.Wife does not do well with blood draws. Not her blood, not the childrens'. So this is one of my designated "things."
I take Child #1 into the little cubby with the lab tech and he ties one of the tourniquets of the kid's arm. Child #1 is sitting on my lap and I'm explaining what's going on and that they're going to get some blood out of his arm, and it's going to hurt, but not too much, but there will be candy at the end, to which he responds, "Yes! Candy!"
The lab tech looks at his arm and we can see the vein which promptly disappears as soon as the needle is within an eighth of an inch of the skin. So he sticks him. And Child #1 winces, but just watches. And the lab tech tries to find the vein. And he can't. And the kid watches. And the lab tech roots around in his arm. And Child #1 winces and says "Ow. That's not good." And I try not to laugh while holding him.
The lab tech ended up having to prick his finger to get a sample. He said,"I wish everyone was this good."
Not a single tear.
*"Mostly" because she had to call in an OBGyn after 18 hours of labor and 4 hours of pushing to try to suck him out of his mother with a vacuum. Apparently family practice doctors aren't allowed to touch the baby vacuum. That didn't work so they got some salad tongs and finally pulled him out. He has the cutest little scar above his left eyebrow.
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