The Circus Did Not Come to Town.

We entered the lab for simple blood tests, firsts for our sons. A dress rehearsal at home, on a few occasions and yesterday, helped prepare them for what was to happen at the lab today. There was nothing to fear, I had told them. Nearly everyone has had these tests done to help diagnose an underlying health problem, I continued. They would conduct themselves accordingly. 

This common test helped to establish a clear picture of what was happening inside our bodies, like a window looking inside, to give us important information about the health of our blood, organs and body. Our blood always told us our personal, unique health story. Their father's health had manifested some blood concerns, back then. Since we had sons, it seemed prudent to have their blood tested, also, while establishing a baseline of health for future comparisons. If some problems are genetic, the sooner 'treatment' is initiated, the sooner the problem can be ameliorated or corrected ...Diet was always a priority for me, even before I married. With children, however, nutrition was even more critical for their developing bodies. 

Taking their blood would tell us what we needed to know now and for the future, too. One by one I waited for the moment to begin. Soon we would leave. As we sat patiently in the waiting room for the last of the blood tests to be completed, the technician spoke to me with a candour not always afforded parents of children who enter her lab for the simple technique of taking blood.  These ladies in white, these blood technicians, had watched a mother and her three little boys enter the lab, moments ago. (Another horror show had just entered their quiet laboratory, an encore performance of gigantic proportions was about to begin, they were certain!!) ... 

The lab technicians braced themselves for the screaming and crying that would soon begin. It always did with little children. They should know. Why would today be any different, they thought?  But today was different. These three little boys, ages, 6, 5, and 3, would be quiet customers, sitting and doing what was expected of them, without a squirm, rant or scream. These children understood and had followed the simple rules surrounding the taking of blood. 

Mom had prepared them for this ritual several times. ... It was no big deal, they knew. Falling or fighting amongst themselves and other unremarkable events, resulting from their daily play routine and life, in general, sometimes, exposed them to more 'pain' than could this simple act of having their blood taken.  They had all agreed. They could cause more discomfort to each other or to themselves that could rival any experienced in a lab.

Preparation is key to the success of any event in our lives. In the case of taking blood from little children, a simple demonstration is all that is required, a 'representative' pinching of the skin on the upper arm to help familiarize the child with the unremarkable pain of the technician's needle going into it for the removal of a blood sample. ... A test that takes almost no time to administer, and is almost rarely noticed to those who are prepared, was carried out with no fuss or fury to three little boys who waited for their turn, in quiet adult fashion. 

Role playing helped to answer our sons' questions as they vicariously experienced the 'pain' of the 'needle' entering their arm for next day's lab work. We talked at length about what would happen, who wanted to go first, and the people who would be there taking their blood. These people were trained professionals who knew what they were doing. (Mom did not know how to take blood. She was not trained for the job.) These people were.

I thanked the technician for telling me her story. I was not aware that our children's public deportment in the lab, that day, was such an eye opener for these professionals. In public, our boys were always expected to behave accordingly. To do so otherwise would be most unacceptable; the consequences, unpleasant. Being silly was welcomed and expected - at home- where 'it' belonged! The public did not want to hear screaming children, under any circumstances, I had counseled them, many times.

The technicians had seen it all until our three boys showed them there was another way. They were amazed and I was a proud parent, once again. Our boys had been prepared for the unknown and had trusted mom to prepare them for the event. They had demonstrated, quite admirably, to the technical staff that the circus had not come to town.