Matching skirts that my mother made for the girls. Aren't they cute? I wish I had one!
I had to take Rachel today to get blood drawn for her appointment next week. She's doing so well that I can't imagine her labs won't be good, but I know that we still need to draw them.
This morning, as I was telling her that I was taking her to the doctor (everybody that has anything to do with her JDM is the "doctor;" how do you explain nurses, doctors, phlebotomists to a two and a half year old?), she wanted to know if he was going to give her a shot. Of course, she was going to get stuck since they were going to draw blood, but I wasn't sure how to answer her. Honestly, I wanted to lie to her and say, "No," but I knew that I would only get away with that once, and I would lose her trust in me. I had to tell her, "Yes," and deal with the tears that came. Thankfully, a two and a half year old is relatively easily distracted.
When I pull into the lab's parking lot, I cringe because I'm afraid the tears will start there. But they don't. Rachel has had blood drawn here three times now, the last two times she knew what was coming. But she doesn't cry when we walk inside; she laughs and plays with me as we wait our turn. She doesn't cry when we go back to the cubicle where it will happen. She doesn't cry until the phlebotomist puts the tourniquet on her arm. Then the tears --and screams-- start. Who can blame her?
But Rachel is a trooper. She doesn't struggle while they draw her blood. Oh, yes, she screams bloody murder, but she isn't hard to hold.
Today, as they filled the last vial, she said, "Don't give me too much blood!" Poor girl, she doesn't understand the process, but the women drawing her blood got a kick out of her comment. They thought she said, "Don't take too much blood," and there is some truth in that. They took six or seven vials worth, and Rachel is a little girl.
After they pulled the needle out, Rachel was fine again. I take one of our Band-aids because they don't have cute ones there. I guess they don't draw too many children's blood. And I gave her a Hershey's kiss which always seems to help. Then we walked out to our car, and she hasn't said another word about it. It happened, it's over, and she's moving on.
I took Rachel with me to run a few more errands while our babysitter was home with my other three children. It's not often that I have only one child with me, and I enjoyed spending that time with her.
She's been complaining about her stomach hurting, and she hasn't eaten much today. I'm glad she has an appointment next week so I can ask her doctor about that.