Monday, February 07, 2005

I Don’t Want To Eat Anything Other Than What I’ve Been Trying To Eat Lately

My daughter, Barney’s Biggest Fan, has lived the first 23 months of her life with allergies to peanuts, dairy products, eggs and soy. For those of you playing at home, that means she has never experienced the tender kiss of crunchy peanut butter or Ben & Jerry’s ice cream or Ovaltine or any of the other staples to which no less a document than the Constitution of the United Fucking States of America declares to be the inalienable rights of every almost two year old girl in the country, even the ones who care more about some former cheerleader in a purple dinosaur costume than, say, walking around the house with boogers crusted to her face.

At her most recent trip to her allergist, it appeared to the doctor that my daughter had outgrown her food allergies. Unfortunately, the only way to know for sure is to subject the child to a blood test, so Hot Wife called me and begged me to take two hours out of my very, very, very important and insanely busy blog-writing schedule to join her at the lab for the blood test, the first my daughter has ever been treated to.

We entered the slaughterhouse this morning and my wife said to the women, “Um, just so you know, she has this thing where sometimes she cries so hard that she passes out. So if that happens don’t worry because she starts breathing again right after she passes out. M’kay?”

The phlebotomist’s face turned ashen. “Um, OK…” she said. [Note to Hot Wife: the next time one of our children is going to go under the needle, let me do the talking. Love you, honey.]

The nurse started fishing around for a vein, poking my precious little girl with her Lee Press-On Nails and saying hurtful, insensitive things like, “My, she does have small veins, doesn’t she?” Newsflash, you smarmy bitch: she’s not even two. It’ll be 40 years and 16 cases of Twinkies before she has the big, cholesterol-smeared garden hoses you have running through your scaley arms. Now can we please just get this over with so I can get back to my office and write to the whole Internet about how fucking mean you are?

Naturally, my daughter had no idea what was happening. All she knew is that she was sitting on my lap with a piece of surgical tubing tied around her arm, a woman was rubbing the inside of her elbow with a stinky alcohol swab, her mommy was distracting her with stickers and Care Bear dolls, her father was promising that everything was OK (liar!), and then --- whamo! --- the crazy bitch with the blue scrubs on was thrusting the business end of a bayonet into her arm.

To stem her crying, I tried to explain to my daughter that the red stuff pouring out her was going to tell us whether she could eat peanut butter and ice cream. [Note to me: don’t try to reason with little kids when they’re giving blood. They don’t give a shit. Let Hot Wife do the talking.] Then I started singing Barney songs to her, which worked for, oh, three-quarters of a second, at which time she looked down and saw herself melting into a blood vile and started wailing again. It was like she was telling us she’d rather drink rice milk for the rest of her life than be subjected to this torture.

When it was over, the evil nurse put a cotton ball and a Bugs Bunny Band-Aid on my little baby’s arm…but no toy. I saw red.

“Wait a second, honey,” I said to the Twinkie vein lady. “My kid just gave you her blood and you don’t even have a little Barney sticker or a Mr. Tooth coloring book for her? What kind of joint are you running here?”

She tried to sling some stupid comeback about this not being Chuck E. Cheese, but I wasn’t having any of it. In six months, after my daughter has started eating ice cream only to discover that she is lactose intolerant like her daddy, we’re going to take one of her lactose-induced diarrhea diapers to that lab, set it on the doorstep, light it on fire and run like the wind. As we sprint back to the minivan and haul ass away from the burning pile, I’ll explain to my daughter that she should never let anyone fuck with her.

13 Comments:

At 7:59 PM, Blogger LadyBug said...

Oh, your poor baby. Let us know how the test turns out. We'll all eat ice cream in her honor.

 
At 7:59 PM, Blogger amy said...

right on!
oh don't fuck with me either :)
hugs, inky

 
At 9:06 PM, Blogger Mrs.Strizzay said...

I just had to have my 10 month olds blood draw. I bet I had an easier time of it than you did.

 
At 1:53 AM, Blogger Jenn said...

Stupid nurse.

 
At 6:56 AM, Blogger Natsu said...

Consider yourself lucky. When my son was born, his blood sugar level was very low. They thought he had diabetes. The hospital had to teach me how to prick his foot and test his blood. Everytime I tried to prick his foot I'd get dizzy and faint. Luckily, he grew out of that stage and I didn't have to face that again. But even to this day, if someone get's a small paper cut, I get weak in the knees. :)

 
At 7:05 AM, Blogger honestyrain said...

what kind of an evil good for nothing person doesn't so much as give a kid a sticker? that's just wrong.

 
At 7:55 AM, Blogger Edgy Mama said...

Damn you, Nurse Rachet! Of course, your daughter should have gotten a toy. My six-year-old had to have blood drawn two 1/2 years ago before having a tonsillectomy. The NICE nurse gave her a tiny teddy bear, which she still calls "my blood bear."

 
At 1:56 PM, Blogger Rootietoot said...

Poor lil nit. My 5 yr old gets weekly allergy shots and he gets 2 stickers AND a toy every single time. I remember feeling like I was going to throw up when they did the allergy tests. Go buy the child a Reeses cup Blizzard if she gets good news from her test.

 
At 2:59 PM, Blogger Jen said...

My daughter was also allergic, severely allergic, to all dairy and soy products. At the 18 month mark, the doctor decided she might have outgrown them. He actually wanted me to test the theory out at home and I went ballistic on him. Maybe he doesn't remember the trips to the emergency room or the explosive shit missiles, but I DID!!! Her entire face, chest, and butt would become BLISTERED, she would VOMIT for hours, and the poop would come out so hard it thudded in her diaper. Yeah, I voted for the blood test. I immediately regretted the decision when the nurse started to draw the blood, but it was quick, and when it was over, she was not in pain.

That being said, when the results came back, we found out she had outgrown the soy and milk allergies. We did find out she had a lactose intolerance; however, from the first glass of milk we gave her. We just stuck to Lactose-free milk and hard cheeses at first, and now that she is 2 1/2 yrs old, she is ok with all of it.

I wish you luck, and hope that your kid gets to eat ice cream soon.

 
At 6:25 PM, Blogger Fat Asian Baby said...

Funny. I want to have the same reaction every time my allergist makes me give vials of my blood, but somehow it just doesn't seem as appropriate for those of us in our twenties. At least I know I'm not a good candidate for heroin addiction.

 
At 1:32 PM, Blogger Shiz said...

She STOPS BREATHING when she cries too hard? That must have freaked you out the first time.

 
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