I knew getting the stitches out was not going to be EASY. I hoped it wouldn’t hurt as bad as getting them in, but I figured we’d get some tears. I had to hold him down while he got the stitches, I just assumed I’d have to help hold him down while they took them out. Holding my child down for medical procedures has never bothered me like it does some parents. I think it’s because I’m always of the mindset: JUST GET IT OVER WITH. If holding a screaming child down makes it go faster? Let’s do it. And if someone HAS to hold my child down? I want it to be me, because at least then I’m a soothing voice of comfort amidst the wails.
SO…I was ready. I was expecting I’d hold him down, they’d yank them out. Then end.
But NOOOO…Wes had to go be all adorable and Nurse #1 point blank said, “I’m going to let the doctor do it, I don’t want to hurt him.” She tried for a minute and he winced, and that was enough heartbreak for her. Then she gave him a sticker. AND SHE HADN’T EVEN DONE ANYTHING.
Nurse #2, the higher ranked nurse who I’d just assume see most days over the pediatrician – she’s that good, came in. She too fell victim to my son’s blue eyes and exceptional manners. For the record: He seems to only use those manners without prompt when there is something to be gained. He has NEVER been as sweet and proper to ME as he was to that nurse yesterday. So, she goes in and at least got the scissors under the stitch but as she yanked and tried to cut, it didn’t happen easily and Wes called out (not even a cry, yet) and she stopped. She tried a different pair of scissors, hoping it would cut better, but the same thing happened. So, she stopped again. Didn’t want to make him actually CRY of course.
At this point I even mentioned that I was EXPECTING him to cry and that was OKAY BY ME. She said, “We’ll just wait for the doctor.” And then she brought him a sucker. At this point? The kid has scored a sticker AND a sucker for NOTHING.
The doctor came in and she was all business. Usually she chats with the kids a bit but you could tell she knew what was going on. She knew she had entered a room with a child capable of manipulating her entire staff so she just looked at the stitches, came up with a plan of attack and we went for it. I held him down, he screamed and cried — FOR LESS THAN ONE MINUTE. She was done. Stitches out. Wes stopped crying the second the last stitch was out and sweetly asked for another sucker. “A green one!”
And of course, he got it.