Bam, Done: A Better Approach to Shot Phobia
Shots are no fun…but the empty syringes are!
I just realized with all the bams I’m starting to sound like my son’s culinary idol, Emeril Lagasse. But strangely it fits, as recently I learned my pot-stirring helped cook up something rather surprising.
Thank you, our pediatrician said.
Thank you? She had called because that afternoon my shot-fearful son was scheduled to get not one, but two vaccines. I was confused by her words. Thank you? For the mayhem of our last visit? For my son’s terrified sprint out the medical building and my cage-rattling for how the office handled (or failed to handle) my son’s intense vaccine phobia?
After your last visit, our pediatrician continued, the staff sat down and established a new protocol for helping kids with shot phobia.
Wow. Now that’s getting somewhere. In a time when concerns fall on deaf ears, as it certainly seemed when I met with the pediatric clinic’s director, this news surprised and pleased me. A new protocol, a revised approach.
As part of this new plan, our pediatrician asked for my verbal consent to give my son his shots. This would eliminate the face-to-face consultation with a practitioner about the vaccines to be given that day, and shorten the time frightened kids anticipate their shots while sitting in an exam room. Of course, I gave the go-ahead. Next, she explained, when my son arrived at the office he would get his temperature taken as usual and necessary, then would be taken to an exam room where a nurse would be waiting with the vaccine already drawn up and ready to go. No painful waiting for the shot to be prepared.
Bam, done.
Ok. It didn’t go quite that smoothly for my son. Returning to walk the same hallway with the same smells and sounds, and into the same exam room (of all things) took all his courage after his last traumatic visit to pediatrics. But the shots are done. And with that, relieved doesn’t begin to describe him. He can now sleep at night. Be creative during the day. Move ahead and look forward to our holiday plans.
The new way of doing things is an unexpected compromise. But my own relief that the office has made an effort to work with shot phobic children and recognize the helplessness of their parents in that situation gives me and my husband renewed confidence in our children’s healthcare. No, nursing staff can’t “jump” my son as he steps out the elevator (wishful thinking on my part) but shaving several minutes off his and other kids shot experience is a huge step in the right direction. For that, we are grateful.
