The Exhausted Dad: Shots of divergent personalities

You can tell a lot about your kids by how well they handle getting stabbed with a needle.

My 13-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son each recently completed their annual wellness exam. Each received a vaccine (your emails on the subject will go straight to the junk pile, by the way), as well as one of those little finger pricks you sometimes need to check for cholesterol, blood sugar, etc.

Both kids hate shots. All kids hate shots. However, different types of personalities react differently before, during and after a particular vaccine/shot.

My 11-year-old son, who likes to tell me all about his daily activities with single word responses (“Good,” “fine,” “nothing,” etc.), struggled to decide between getting the shot in his thigh or arm.

“It hurts in my arm, but I know what that feels like,” he said. “I don’t remember what it feels like to get a shot in my thigh.”

“So, you want to get the shot in your arm?” I responded.

“I don’t know, maybe? Let me think about it.”

After five minutes, he settles on the arm. I foolishly asked which one.

“Oh, I don’t know. I write with my right hand and I want to be able to use that arm to write. And I don’t want my arm to hurt when I’m writing.”

“So, you want to get the shot in your left arm?” I ask.

“I don’t know, let me think about it.”

After several minutes, he settled on the right arm. I don’t know the reason. I didn’t want to ask. He cringed through the shot but otherwise barely reacted to the injection. I asked how his arm felt, and he said, “OK.”

Then came the finger prick, which he didn’t get a choice about and didn’t really expect it to feel like much of anything. He reacted as if he sliced the tip of his finger with a steak knife.

He said the following, all without raising his voice above his usual quiet monotone: “That hurt more than anything I’ve ever felt. That was way worse than any other shot. Why did it hurt so much? Is my finger ever going to stop bleeding? I’d rather have 10 of the other shots than do another finger prick.”

Indecision, shock and genuine pain … my 11-year-old son experienced it all on a seemingly single wavelength.

As for my 13-year-old daughter … well … let me just preface this by saying that when she was younger, she’d rant and rave for literal DAYS before she ever went to the doctor’s office.

“I CAN’T DO SHOTS. I DON’T LIKE SHOTS. I DON’T NEED SHOTS.”

Nothing much has changed since then. She’s replaced the hysterical declarations with a more stream-of-consciousness recital of thoughts, feelings and asides.

I can’t possibly recall the full speech, but the moments before the shot sounded something like this:

“I’ve always really disliked shots. Like, actually, I think it’s fair to say that I hate getting shots. I always panic about them and, yes, I am panicking right now. I know it needs to get done, and I’m here, but like, is there really any good reason why it has to be so painful? Like do we not have the technology to make this super easy or you get one shot and that’s it for like, forever. I mean, no, I don’t want some terrible disease, and I can’t imagine living in like the 1900s or whatever where you just got a cold and basically died. I’m happy that I live now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I really don’t want to get this shot. But I know I’m probably freaking out for no reason and it’s going to be fine, but like, what if it isn’t fine? Like there’s a reason why I don’t like the shot. It’s because it obviously hurts and I know you all think I’m like a crazy person for talking so much about the shot, but, listen, I like to think that it’s helping me and that I’m going to do this because I’m preparing myself for the worst even though it probably won’t be the worst. I don’t know, don’t listen to me. But maybe check to see if I really need the shot or if I’m good. Because I don’t really like shots.”

It went on like that for a while. Then she cringed and got the shot.

“Oh my god, that didn’t hurt at all. I don’t know what I was worrying about. I could barely feel it. Do I actually not like shots? Or am I like super mature and can handle it perfectly? I always do this. I always freak out and I worry about it for days and then I get the shot and I’m like, ‘That wasn’t so bad.’ But for real though, for real, that’s the last time I have to get a shot for probably like 365 days and that feels really good. I’m sure I will freak out again, and it will be crazy, but I really don’t like shots.”

It went on like that for the entire ride home. She spoke more in one hour than the entirety of her brother’s 11 years on this earth.

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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer, full-time student, and parent to four kids, ages 7-13. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.

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