In January, both Jackson and Leah got their first of two H1N1 vaccinations. After 30 days, they had to get a second one (just like the regular flu shot--the first year you get it, you need two doses). Well, I finally got around to making the appointment this week and went in for both of them today. I wasn't set on getting an appointment at our regular clinic (Park Nicollet in Minnetonka) because it was just for shots. So the schedule person got me in at Park Nicollet in Plymouth.
All day, Jackson has been reminding me how much he hates shots and that he doesn't want to get one and that it will hurt and he wants to get it in his nose instead (I called and they were all out of the FluMist H1N1 vaccines) and so on. I told him that he would be really brave and everything would be okay. I even said we could get an ice cream cone when we were all done. And I had Dan call this morning to give Jack a little pep talk.
We got to the clinic and I had to wait to check in. It was just the right amount of time for Jack to get distracted by the turtles in the fish tank. Perfect! As soon as I was done at the front desk and sat down to take off Leah's jacket, the nurse came out and got us. Jack sat down and said he was staying in the waiting room. Sorry dude, you're coming with me. So I awkwardly tried to wrangle both kids out of the waiting area as the nurse watched. Strike one. She said, "Okay, we're just around the corner here" and disappeared. Strike two. We went around the corner and there was no nurse to be found. I peeked my head in a couple of doors and she came out of one hallway and led us into a room. Jack immediately started crying and said, "I don't want any shots!" to which the awesome nurse answered matter-of-factly, "Well, you're just getting one." Strike three, and orders for her to take a mandatory class called "How to deal with kids who are scared of shots." She sat and watched (rather impatiently) as I put Leah on the floor and wrestled Jack onto the exam table. I got pants down just enough to expose the perfect spot on his thigh and he escaped my hold and slipped onto the floor. I grabbed him again (feeling like a REALLY awesome mother right about now) and got him on the table. The nurse laid him down and I held his hand so he wouldn't grab the needle. And to tell you the truth, he was screaming so hard about being scared that I couldn't even tell when she did the needle. So we got Jack down, pants back up and turned to get Leah off the floor. When I turned my back, I heard the nurse say, "Ooh, where are you goin'??" and saw Jack trying to escape. Well, it's a little late for that, buddy. We got him back in, got Leah done (with a tiny little cry) and left the exam room. Oh, but not before catching the nurse on her way out the door to give her the pile of papers that I'd brought in from the waiting room. "I think you need these," I said. "Oh. Yup, thanks." Dude, strike four.
We made our way to the waiting room, got our jackets back on and headed out to the car. Jack continued to tell me how much he didn't like shots and that he doesn't want to get any more shots. Ever. We got everyone into the car and I reminded Jack that we could go get ice cream if he wanted. He did, so we drove across the freeway to McDonalds. Once there, Jack said he wanted chocolate. I told him they only had vanilla. He pouted but agreed to a vanilla cone. As we're driving away, ice cream cone in hand, I looked back to see if he was enjoying it. He hadn't even tried it and was just sitting there pouting at it, so I asked what was wrong. He completely broke down and cried, "I WANTED CHOCOLATE!" at which point Leah FREAKED out at Jack's break-down and proceeded to scream also.
So there I am, listening to two out-of-control children in the backseat of my van, holding Jack's melting ice cream, trying to merge onto 494. Jack finally agreed to eat his vanilla cone if I licked the melting sides. Done. Leah, on the other hand, never did settle down, which is actually probably a good thing. If she had, she would have fallen asleep in the car, ruining the nap waiting for her at home.
We survived. Just barely, it seemed. And how I have the awesome job of deciding whether or not to prep Jack for the shots he's likely to get at his four-year well check in a couple of weeks. I'm not sure the prepping did any good--he just worried about it all day. Oh, I don't know. I'll decide the day before, I'm sure. :)