A few weeks ago we had a rough day at the doctor’s office. Our twin four-year-olds needed a routine medical check up to apply for school next year so we set up an appointment at the nearby international health clinic. To ensure that I’d leave with filled-in forms – and given my son’s tendency toward noncompliance in medical settings – I spent a few days preparing them for the big event.
We talked a lot about what would happen at the appointment and why it was important. I also banked on a bribery strategy and took the kids to the toy store the day before to pick out craft activities that we would do together after a successful check up.
The exam began and both kids were doing great and cheering each other on: “you’re doing a good job!” said one to the other. Then it was time for the required Mantoux TB skin test – an injection of Tuberculin beneath the skin on the inside of the left forearm.
My daughter cheerfully agreed to go first. Her smile quickly gave way to a frozen look of shock and then abundant tears: “it huuuurts!”
After watching his sister, my son hid behind a chair crying and refused to go next. I didn’t blame him but I also didn’t want to repeat the whole experience another day. After a few minutes of attempted persuasion I turned to the waiting doctor and nurse and told them that I wasn’t sure what to suggest. They offered to bring in more people and hold him down. “Uh, no. Give me a minute.” I said.
I did my best to be patient and calm and explained why we needed to do it today. By some miracle, I convinced him to climb onto my lap and he stoically stretched his arm out as I tried to distract his gaze.
For the next 20 seconds he screamed the place down. I’ve never heard anything like it. When it was finally over we both exhaled palpable relief.
No one made eye contact when the three of us walked back into the large waiting area. We spent a few minutes collecting ourselves, comparing stickers, and talking about how brave they had been. And they WERE brave: my daughter, who had offered her arm up without knowing what would happen, and my son, who offered his when he knew exactly what was coming.
They showed off their “big pokes” and explained what happened to the woman waiting next to us. “Yes, I heard” she said with a smile.
I have always dreaded the injection part of check ups and usually begged my husband to be the child holder while I handled the post-jab cuddles. Now that they are older, restraining them isn’t an option. This is a relief in many ways, but reasoning with them is just as hard (or harder).
For me, it is also about respect. While my daughter is game for most anything, my son needs time to ease into things. He will participate when he is ready and when it is his choice. Although I could have done with some earplugs at the doctor’s office, it felt important to respect my son’s free will and not force anything and I was proud of how the situation turned out.
So far our doctor experiences have been mostly mundane and limited to check ups and minor ailments. But you never know. Many brave parents face far greater medical challenges than yearly injections or the virus-of-the-month and I feel deep empathy for these families. And of course, as I’m learning through the UN Foundation’s Shot@Life campaign, many parents and children don’t even have access to yearly shots or life saving vaccines at all. So even though the small traumas stick with us and set precedence for future visits, at least we are lucky enough to have access to good medical care and services.
Though I don’t know when we’ll visit the doctor again, there are bound to be more medical appointments (and needles) in our future. One thing I am sure about: next time it’s my husband’s turn.
How do you help your children cope with doctor visits? How do you cope?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Shaula Bellour in Indonesia. Shaula can also be found on her blog, Notes From a Small World.
Photo credit to dmason. This photo has a creative commons attribution no derivatives license.
Shaula — I never realized how difficult medical exams and vaccinations must be with twins — if my daughter saw someone go first, there’s no way, she’d go, too.
Our doctor gives out lollipops and that seems to help. We spend time talking about what color she wants. Also, since our World Moms Blog life-saving vaccine advocacy for kids in the developing world, we’ve had a lot of talks about how kids really need them, and we are really lucky to have them here. She wants to help, too!
Thanks for sharing from your corner of the world in Indonesia!
Jen 🙂
Thanks Jen! I tried a lollipop incentive when had to get a series of shots to move to Asia. I referred to our visits as going to the “lollipop doctor” but my kids weren’t fooled…”no mommy, it’s the owie doctor!” Oh well, I tried 🙂
Aw this is the sweetest post ever. Mantouxs HURT, and I always feel terrible administering them… I can’t actually remember what my parents did to make the visits better. The needles didn’t bother me quite a much as the ENT exam. You can be very proud of your kids though, and you seem to have handled the matter well. Especially not letting your son be forcibly held down, that was a good call on your side 🙂
Thanks so much for your reassuring words. And thanks for sharing your perspective as someone who administers the test — it must be so hard! I once had a nurse tell me that she could really use a drink after giving my kids a series of unpleasant shots. She wasn’t the only one 😉
It’s great that you were able to work with the different temperaments of your children – it can be so much more upsetting for children during times of stress, when parents don’t understand what makes them tick.
Thanks so much Karyn! It’s not always easy, but figuring out how to work with such different personalities has been an important learning process for me (and for us). I’m sure it’s not so different for most parents of multiple children — but it’s definitely an interesting experiment when they are the same age!
I never thought about dr visits with twins, but what you describe is pretty much what I went through at the last visit that we had about 6 months ago… It was my daughter’s 18 month visit and my son’s 5 year visit. My daughter went first, screamed the entire time, from the physical to the vaccines, and my son was a wonderful big brother, trying to distract and soothe her. And then it was his turn…he allowed the dr to do the physical exam, but was not a happy camper when it came time for his vaccines. I had to hold his arm down ( so that he wouldn’t move) and he cried…begging the dr to stop. The dr administered several injections and at the last one said ‘OK’ he would stop, to which my son, through his tears said ‘thank you’. The dr was so surprised to be thanked that he hugged him. It was a very sweet moment.
That’s so sweet, Maman Aya 🙂
I’ve been pretty lucky with my kids … the only thing which was super traumatic for both me and my son was when they had to attach an IV drip to him at age 11 months (he was dehydrated from rotavirus). The doctor and 4 nurses sent my husband and I out of the room, but we could hear our son’s hysterical crying down the passage and were not allowed to comfort him. I’m sure it was only a couple of minutes but it felt like an eternity. When we were finally allowed back in the room, I hugged my little boy and he sobbed until he actually fell asleep from the stress of it all. 🙁
Both my children learnt to “open wide” and flatten their tongues (without the use of a tongue depressor) from a very young age. All 3 of us have an overactive gag reflex so can’t stand that stick down our throats!
Apart from the above, maybe it helped that I worked in doctors’ surgeries when my kids were small. Everything to do with dr visits was very comfortable for them cos “my mom works here”!
Wow, Mamma Simona — I can imagine how traumatic the IV experience must have been. Poor little guy (mommy and daddy too). Great strategy to teach the “open wide” technique and make them comfortable with doctor visits from a young age. My mom is a nurse and talking about this could be a good way to create a more positive experience. Worth a try!
Thanks so much for sharing your experience. I want to give your little boy a big hug — such a sweetie to comfort his baby sister and the doctor too. I hope he got lots of stickers and some extra lollipops! What a star. Sending good thoughts for next time.