The Second Doctor's Visit
Technically speaking, this was Iris's 3rd trip to the doctor. But the 2nd trip was an unscheduled event, spurred by the appearance by a yellow-ish creamy substance forming around the base of still-attached belly button. That was a while ago.
And today was the first appointment I've been able to attend, since I have taken the whole Thanksgiving week off from work. It was exciting going there as a family..!
So today Iris had her 2-month check-up. And when I say "2-month", I guess that means we need to make the transition of calling out her age in terms of months rather than weeks, because today she was also 1 day shy of being 9 weeks old. Anyway, the pediatrician's office was set up with both a 'healthy' and 'sick' waiting room. This made a tremendous amount of sense to me, even though I don't ever recall seeing such an arrangement.
The first order of business was to wait. Like burning your tongue on coffee or stubbing your toe on a table, waiting in a doctor's office is an agony that we must all learn to endure eventually... Iris slept the whole time. When we were let into our examination room some 40 minutes later, Iris was getting groggy. I can't imagine all the flourescent lights in the office were helping her condition.. A nurse popped in and asked us to take off all her clothes, leaving only her soft, smooth skin and a diaper exposed. We wrapped her in a blanket, she soiled the diaper, and we waited another 15 minutes for the doctor to come in.
First news: Iris weighed 11 lb. 14 oz. and measured 23". Our doctor said this put her in the 75% percentile. This means she has gained 4 lb. 4 oz., or over half of her original weight, since birth. Just for kicks (since I am at work), I calculated that if she keeps up this growth rate, she'll weigh about 100 lbs. by her first birthday, balloon to over 2,000,000 lbs. and 24' tall by the time she enters kindergarden, and reach the equivalent weight of Earth around her 20th birthday. But she'd always be our little girl!
Second news: Results of the APGAR score were in: 9, then 10. Good and good.
Third news: Blood type A negative, just like her mother.
Fourth news: 3 shots today!
The Tale of Iris's Three Shots
After relating all of the above news, the doctor left and we started another long wait for the executioner (of the shots) to arrive. Though it is probably wise that the doctor him/herself not do the deed to spare negative association, this does little to reduce the overall psychological effect that "going to the doctor" develops into later in life..
As mentioned, while we were waiting earlier, Iris soiled her diaper. About 10 minutes into our third long wait of the day, Mama D decided to run out to the car and grab the diaper bag so we could have Iris changed and ready to go when the appointment was over. It was in this slice of time, these 5 minutes, that suddenly the nurse popped in. I knew that Dawn wanted to be there for the big event, but I had no power to ask the nurse to wait, nor did I want to make anyone else wait any longer at this dreaded place than necessary.
It all happened so fast. The blankets got peeled away, exposing her two fleshy, fatty, delicious legs. Cold alcohol wipes stroked both of her quads and she began to look around, somewhat aroused from her slumber. I softly asked the nurse how babies generally reacted to getting shots, to which she answered, "they usually do OK, no problems."
Before the thought of "wow, maybe this won't be that bad" had circulated, three metal needles were uncapped and plugged into Iris's legs, two the the first leg and one to the other, in rapid fire. With no lag in reaction time, Iris was jolted into a state of awareness I had never seen her, screaming above the tippy-top of her lungs. I thought her head was going to explode, looking more red than it did the moment she was born; her face puckered like it had gotten stuck in a small jar of pickle juice.
And as quickly as the nurse had come in after Mama D left, Mama D returned to find her sweet baby in tatters, now with small purple band-aids affixed to the ground zeros. I picked her up and sang 'The Itsy Bitsy Spider' to her over and over, since it was conveniently printed on a framed poster in the room, perhaps intentionally posted just for that purpose.
Fortunately after a few minutes of nursing (since we'd also crossed the 3-hour feeding deadline thanks to all the waiting), Iris had calmed down a bit. By the time we left she was smug in her chair, and she slept a lot over the next two days, thanks to the help of Children's Tylenol. By Thanksgiving, she was good as new, even though she wasn't really very old..
And today was the first appointment I've been able to attend, since I have taken the whole Thanksgiving week off from work. It was exciting going there as a family..!
So today Iris had her 2-month check-up. And when I say "2-month", I guess that means we need to make the transition of calling out her age in terms of months rather than weeks, because today she was also 1 day shy of being 9 weeks old. Anyway, the pediatrician's office was set up with both a 'healthy' and 'sick' waiting room. This made a tremendous amount of sense to me, even though I don't ever recall seeing such an arrangement.
The first order of business was to wait. Like burning your tongue on coffee or stubbing your toe on a table, waiting in a doctor's office is an agony that we must all learn to endure eventually... Iris slept the whole time. When we were let into our examination room some 40 minutes later, Iris was getting groggy. I can't imagine all the flourescent lights in the office were helping her condition.. A nurse popped in and asked us to take off all her clothes, leaving only her soft, smooth skin and a diaper exposed. We wrapped her in a blanket, she soiled the diaper, and we waited another 15 minutes for the doctor to come in.
First news: Iris weighed 11 lb. 14 oz. and measured 23". Our doctor said this put her in the 75% percentile. This means she has gained 4 lb. 4 oz., or over half of her original weight, since birth. Just for kicks (since I am at work), I calculated that if she keeps up this growth rate, she'll weigh about 100 lbs. by her first birthday, balloon to over 2,000,000 lbs. and 24' tall by the time she enters kindergarden, and reach the equivalent weight of Earth around her 20th birthday. But she'd always be our little girl!
Second news: Results of the APGAR score were in: 9, then 10. Good and good.
Third news: Blood type A negative, just like her mother.
Fourth news: 3 shots today!
The Tale of Iris's Three Shots
After relating all of the above news, the doctor left and we started another long wait for the executioner (of the shots) to arrive. Though it is probably wise that the doctor him/herself not do the deed to spare negative association, this does little to reduce the overall psychological effect that "going to the doctor" develops into later in life..
As mentioned, while we were waiting earlier, Iris soiled her diaper. About 10 minutes into our third long wait of the day, Mama D decided to run out to the car and grab the diaper bag so we could have Iris changed and ready to go when the appointment was over. It was in this slice of time, these 5 minutes, that suddenly the nurse popped in. I knew that Dawn wanted to be there for the big event, but I had no power to ask the nurse to wait, nor did I want to make anyone else wait any longer at this dreaded place than necessary.
It all happened so fast. The blankets got peeled away, exposing her two fleshy, fatty, delicious legs. Cold alcohol wipes stroked both of her quads and she began to look around, somewhat aroused from her slumber. I softly asked the nurse how babies generally reacted to getting shots, to which she answered, "they usually do OK, no problems."
Before the thought of "wow, maybe this won't be that bad" had circulated, three metal needles were uncapped and plugged into Iris's legs, two the the first leg and one to the other, in rapid fire. With no lag in reaction time, Iris was jolted into a state of awareness I had never seen her, screaming above the tippy-top of her lungs. I thought her head was going to explode, looking more red than it did the moment she was born; her face puckered like it had gotten stuck in a small jar of pickle juice.
And as quickly as the nurse had come in after Mama D left, Mama D returned to find her sweet baby in tatters, now with small purple band-aids affixed to the ground zeros. I picked her up and sang 'The Itsy Bitsy Spider' to her over and over, since it was conveniently printed on a framed poster in the room, perhaps intentionally posted just for that purpose.
Fortunately after a few minutes of nursing (since we'd also crossed the 3-hour feeding deadline thanks to all the waiting), Iris had calmed down a bit. By the time we left she was smug in her chair, and she slept a lot over the next two days, thanks to the help of Children's Tylenol. By Thanksgiving, she was good as new, even though she wasn't really very old..
posted by naM modnaR at 9:26 PM
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