Tough love

This past week, I had the pleasure of taking Mason to the lab to get some blood drawn. He needed to be tested for food allergies. Teressa had already tried to take Mason in for skin testing the week before, but once Mason saw how many times he was going to be tested, he wouldn't cooperate. I took Mason into the lab on a post-call day. I had prepared him by reminding him of the IV he had gotten when he was in the hospital. He hadn't even flinched when he got the IV. And when we first went back into the lab, it seemed that Mason would be fine. It didn't take long before Mason started worrying and then decided not to go along with the plans. The phlebotomist was patient and we tried to talk him into doing things the easy way. We tried for nearly 15 minutes before deciding it was time to do things the hard way. I sat down and restrained Mason on my lap, medic held Mason's arm still and the phlebotomist drew the blood. Mason screamed the whole time, even before he was poked with the needle. (Note the lack of pictures on this post. They wouldn't have been pretty.) Later, as we were driving home, I asked Mason if he would have rather done the skin test after all. He insisted that the blood test was better. He's probably right. I can't imagine what it would have been like to hold him down for over twenty skin tests.