Brave Little Boy
(after the blood draw)
Our daughter sent the above photo on Friday to assure me that Henry had had a good follow-up visit to the phlebotomist this morning. (Why is it that the word 'vampire' always comes to mind!?) He had to have blood drawn yesterday, in order to do the periodic testing for allergies, to see if he's become more or less allergic to certain things.
This little guy had put on his brave face and held out his arm for the technician to draw blood. The phlebotomist tried several times (!!) and couldn't get a vein, so she moved to the other arm. By this time, his patience and courage had worn thin and he began to whimper and then cry. POOR LITTLE GUY!
To make matters worse, after they returned home, our daughter got a phone call from the clinic, informing her he would have to return, because they hadn't drawn enough blood! You've got to be kidding!! She phoned me to tell me about it and I was just furious. (Because this is the second time this has happened, where he's had to return because they'd not drawn enough blood!) All he'd been through, and they'd not taken enough blood?? Hadn't they read doctor's orders? Doesn't the doctor communicate to them the number of tests that will be run or the amount of blood needed??
So I was awake a lot in the night, praying for this sweet little guy.
Happy Boy!
Playing at the park, a nice little reward for courage.
Praise God! This time, the phlebotomist got it on the first try.
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Just think: At just under 3 years old, Henry already knows the word 'phlebotomist.'
When I was little, I learned my first big word from my grandma: 'obnoxious.'
When I was little, I learned my first big word from my grandma: 'obnoxious.'
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