The Dreaded Butterfly

So we made the switch to a new doctor, we have the pump coming and the start date is set, Cara is growing and healthy and laughing and everything is moving nicely and...
Oh ya, one small detail that has been over looked...she has not had a blood draw since her T1 diagnoses in Feb 09 at the age of 3!!

CRAP!! 

I knew this day had to come, I knew that we needed to get this over and done with before we could move on but tell a 5 year old that who is terrified of the dreaded butterfly.

I remember it so clearly, like it was yesterday.  Poor thin, lifeless Cara lying on a E.R. table while the nurses explained this will only take a second and you will only feel a little pinch...look it's a butterfly!  You like butterflies don't you?

She lied there, motionless as they poked and prodded Cara with that damn butterfly over and over again trying frantically to find a vein.  She just lied there and did nothing...

3 nurses and countless tries later a good vein was found.  But that was not the end of the dreaded butterfly!!

The first night in the hospital Cara endured many pokes and needless, more blood work and more butterflies. (Her blood sugar was so high (53.2 mmols or 957) that it would not register on the meters it would just read HI)

Nurses that were just there to talk to us had to stand with both hands opened and straight up in the air repeating over and over "we are just here to talk no needles".

At one point Cara looked at me with the most pathetic look on her face and she said "I hate butterflies"  I will never forget it!!

fast forward to today.  I was hopeful that this was going to be a positive experience, maybe she had forgotten about the scary butterflies, maybe she has matured in the last 2 1/2 years to learn to cope with scary situations...maybe I'm just full of shit and have no idea what I'm so hopeful about because in reality there was not way this day was going to end any different then screaming and yelling and kicking and tears.

At 8:15am we arrived at the hospital where we spent 45 minutes talking and playing out the scenario that was about to take place.  We made a doll, named Rapunzel with red hair(?) and practice doing a few blood draws, we applied "magic" cream to Cara's arms that numbed both arms (just in case) so the needle would not hurt as much.  We went through some comfort holds to use during the procedure and we explained over and over to Cara what was about to take place.

9:30  and it was time!! I took her confidentially back to our D clinic room and the second she saw those two lab people standing there with their great big smiles, she started screaming bloody murder and I knew this was going to be a fight...after all, she is MY DAUGHTER!!

We literally had to pull her **NICELY**  into the room, I sat down with her on my lap and there was just no calming that girl down...she was screaming and kicking and pulling and fighting... FOR HER LIFE.  We decided the safest and quickest way to get this done was to lie her down....HOLY BAT SHIT! Cara was not having that!!  I tried to explain to her I can sit with her on my lap but she just need to hold still just for a little (please Cara for the love of GOD, HOLD STILL).  I don't mind if you scream, yell, call people names...whatever makes you feel better BUT just sit still!!

So much for that, as they pulled the reluctant monkey monster away from my neck...my heart sunk!!  I did not want to participate in this any longer... I wanted out too!!

There is nothing worse for a parent to hold down your child while someone is shoving a needle in their arm (causing them pain) as they plead for you to take them home and make it all stop.

HOLD IT TOGETHER MOM...

As I looked around the room 2 nurses (one male) holding Cara down trying to talk her down, One trying to get the poke and me holding her legs, talking to her, rubbing her chest, looking her dead in the eyes trying desperately to let her know that I was there and she was safe and everything will be OK as soon as it is done. She began screaming "please mom take me home, I want to go home please mom!".  At that moment my eyes began to swell up, my chin began to quiver uncontrollably and I was about to lose it when the words hold it together lady repeated over and over in my head.       

1,2,3, and finally 4 vials of blood taken and she was release back into my arms and did not want me to put her down.

As we drove away from the hospital I stupidly started to reflect on the events that had just occurred.

Note to self:  tears in the eyes + driving =  not a good or safe thing...because you can't fricken see a thing!!  I quickly gained a little composure and regained my vision.

She is smiling now, she is happy now and I don't think that the poke actually hurt thaaaat much. I think it was the memories of the fear and the emotions of the last time she was poked and prodded on diagnoses day 2 1/2 years ago when the dreaded butterfly was near.

We have since talked it over and next time she promises to sit still....

However I did over hear her playing doctor with Kirstin and Rapunzel and while preparing Rapunzel for her blood draw Kirstin was holding her hand and Cara said "OK now this is going to super-de-duper hurt" and then poor little Rapunzel cried.

Cara, Rapunzel, Lenny, her pin wheel and a great big smile :) showing off her battle wounds

This day has taken a lot out of Cara and her mommy!! (It's a little hot in here)