A couple of workable days at the mill this week. Tuesday I was playing immunology again. However this time my consultant wasn't available. Just his rather over testing registrar Pibo. Pibo orders more investigations than George bush. On your average 2 year olds arms you have room to do 6 tests. Leaving an inch space in between each test for safety. He ordered 16 allergy tests on one child including milk. I wouldn't mind but the kid drank a pint of milk a day. How the feck could he be allergic? Do the maths. I had to leave out some tests. Pibo seems to think children have three arms.
Kids always amaze me. Some are quivering wrecks of emotional screaming and anger. No, they yell and their parents cluck and fuss.
Some kids are stoical letting out the odd sob of anguish. It's these that get my heart strings tugging as I quietly silence my own dry sob as I empathise with them.
Some couldn't care less and have high pain thresholds and a matter of fact approach. These have the most fun as we tend to make a huge fuss of these plucky kids.
Actually we make a fuss of them all. All kids are special. Even the one who bit my boob a few years back when I was doing his dressing.
I'm a firm believer in getting it over as fast as possible. Then an essential debrief as you talk them through what happened and ask them to really think about "Was it as bad as you thought?" 95% will say no. The thought was worse but that odd 5% will SWEAR it was the worst thing in the whole world.
Bless, I can think of some adults who'd agree with them.
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