when the phlebotomist called Charlie's name, he resisted by planting his leg firmly. Like a dog when it realizes he's going to the vet. Damn, he's strong. I carried him in and we sat in a different chair than usual. Not sure. Maybe a bit higher than the other. Less constricting maybe? Whatever it was, I think it confused Charlie.
"Do I cry for this?" he asked me.
I paused, not expecting such a question. "Uh, well, you don't have to," I said. "But it's OK if you do."
I turned Charlie's face away from the nurse's hands and put it against my chest. There was no horrific roar. There was no scream that could stop traffic. Just the slightest wimper when the needle burrowed under his skin.And that was it. A wimper. That was a first.
When we walked out of the office I had a smile from ear to ear, Charlie cracked a subtle "I survived" expression as he held his arm gingerly. Susanne greeted us with an incredulous look as she gestured "what happened?"
The three of us practically skipped across the hospital lobby to the gift shop where Charlie immediately selected a blue (of course) gel-filled, squishy frog that he named Bubbles.
I'm so proud of him. I spent the rest of the day very happy.
The visit with the endo also went fairly well. They're pleased with his growth rate and they like that we've had fewer lows than in the past. He runs a bit on the higher side at times, but we're working on it.
Thank you all for your well wishes and words of encouragement. I very much appreciate it.