Friday, September 08, 2017

A little pep talk

Zoë tagged along with me to my appointment this morning. Since moving here she's accompanied me several times. All the other kids have come with me as well. They seem to expect it here—the rooms are bigger (with four chairs in some of the rooms) and the doctors and nurses all seem happy to see the children.

My clinic in Durham was not so welcoming. They preferred no tag-along children, with firm rules about "no more than two" visitors, and their offices were cramped with usually only one chair. So I rarely took my children in with me (Rachel and Miriam came to Alexander's second ultrasound and that's all, really).

Anyway, all that is to say that Zoë has come with me often enough that she knows what to expect when I go to the doctor now.

Today she happily watched the fish in the lobby and read stories in my lap until we got called back. We followed the nurse into one of the rooms and I sat down in a chair. Zoë climbed onto the chair next to me, took my hand, and stared sombrely into my eyes.

"Goke Mommy," she said sadly.

"Yes, Mommy's going to get a poke."

"Happy," she urged me, "Mommy—happy."

"I will be brave," I assured her

"Happy," she said again firmly, but kindly, as she reached over to give my bottom (the injection site) a little pat.

"I'll be happy," I smiled.

Satisfied, she sat back in her chair and requested we pull out her "gook" to read while we continued to wait for the doctor. And now I know which child to bring with me for moral support in the future. 

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