Yesterday we took Ashley to the doctors office for her checkup. This was her third doctors visit since being born. At the last visit, three months ago, she revieved her first set of immunization shots. They call it immunization shots, but I call it barbaric torture. Ok, so I cried when she got her first shots, and hence me refering to the act as being barbaric. I dunno, but are these shots even really necessary? So, yesterday the minute we walked into the office, I noticed that Ashley didn’t look quie comfortable. While in the waiting area, she had the look of, “I’ve been here before…I remember this place, and I don’t like it.” Yeah, she even looked at me and her mom with great suspicion. I swear, its like she knew what was gonna happen. So they called her name to signal her to the back, and I’m wondering….she’s 5mths old, why the hell would you call HER name? Is she supposed to recognize her name and know that she’s ready to be seen? I’m thinking she’s 5mths old lady, we we’re the ones who drove here!
So we move to the check in room for her to be weighed in and measured. The minute she entered the room, she started buggin out as she was being undressed. Ashley is a very quiet baby, she mostly laughs and is happy except for when she’s hungry. Plus she’s good with strangers, so her behavior was obviously different from my observation. I swear, its like she knew what was gonna happen. We find out that she now weighs 16.4lbs and she’s still 25 inches long, and then we’re ushered to the torture chamber…oops, I meant the examination room to wait for the doctor. This is when she got reall nervous. The doctor walks in and we put her in the table, and I can see it in her eyes that she wasn’t feelin this old black lady with the ugly wig and white coat touching her. I promiss you, its like she knew what was gonna happen. She starts to cry as she’s being inspected, and thats when I knew that she definitely hated this place because she knew what was coming. So the doctor starts talking about her weight. She said she was concerned because for her height/length, she was overweight. She then said that we need to cut back or watchout on giving her cookies and all kinds of sweets. Cookies?? Who the hell gives a 5mth old baby a cookie??!! She only drinks 6 bottles a day, and 1 bowl of that baby food stuff, and this lady is counselling me and my wife about giving her coookies! I thought it was strange, but I guess she looked at my fat ass and just knew I was feeding her pig feet, hog maws with the occasional side of beef. …
But I digest.
The way Ashley was acting forced me to ask the doctor how early can kids recall traumatic events. She said its ususally until they’re around 9 or 10mths old that they do that. I dunno, she’s the expert, so I accepted what she said. Of course this isn’t true of every kid because like I said, I knew Ashley remembered that last visit when they stuck her three times in her legs and made her drink some nasty stuff. I mean, as far as I’m concerened that was her first real taste of trauma or pain. Don’t get me wrong, being born, or the experience of child birth has to be truamatic for a baby. But I think there’s a mechanism in your brain that erases that experience for the most part. I say “for the most part” because its obvious that there are some adults who are fucked up, and never actually get over that experience, and hence the clingy, needy behavior they exhibit….
but I digestive tract.
So here she was once again about to get MORE shots. This time Lee made me be the one to hold her down. I wanted to leave the room before her shots because i didnt think I was gonna be able to take it. The last time she got shots, she looked at me in my eyes as if to say, “daddy why did you let them do this to me?” So this time around, I figured I’d leave the room, but my wife wasn’t having it. As I held her doen on that table she began to cry. After the first stick she let out this scream that was out of this world. I felt a tear roll down my face as I thought about her pain and how much I wanted to punch that lady in the mouth. But, I wasn’t trynna catch a charge or anything; I doubt they would have understaood that as a father we can be emotional when it comes to our kids. The funny thing, is that after it was over, she didn’t cry for very long like she did the last time. The last time, she cried all the way to the car, and on the ride home. I don’t remember my earliest encounter with pain, and I wish I could. But then again, maybe that was a very painfull enough experience that I don’t wanna remember. Its kinda fucked up, that we can forget physical pain faster than we can the emotional ones….
Don’t ya think?