Doctor visit

Today I visit with my new doctor in San Francisco. The waiting room has toys, a play kitchen, and a toy cash register that I play with while Mommy and Daddy scribble on some paper for the people working at the office. Soon the doctor's helper comes out to get us and she walks us into a room with all sorts of machines. We don't use any of them, but she has me stand against a wall that had a measuring stick to see how tall I am. "33 inches exactly!" she says. Then I stand on a scale to see how much I weigh. 25 and a half pounds. Next, we leave that room and go into another room. The helper tells us that my doctor will come in soon and then the helper lady leaves. In the room, there is what looks like a really cushy changing table with paper on it and a pillow. A lot of different black plastic and shiny metal doctor tools hang on the wall. Daddy and Mommy tells me what they are for and that the doctor will use them on me to check if I'm healthy.

Soon the doctor arrives. She's really nice, but I am shy at first. She asks Mommy and Daddy questions about me, and then she asks me herself. I tell her that my favorite breakfast food is toast and I love my pink socks even though I prefer oatmeal and my blue socks more (what she doesn't know won't hurt her though). She takes the heart listening tool from around her neck and asks, "Do you know what this is?" I say, "Sketh-a-scope!" She beams a big smile and says, "Wow! Very good!!" She has me point to where my heart is, and she listens to it go Boom Boom Boom. She listens to my lungs while I take big breaths. She listens to my back. I don't know what my back says. Then she takes one of those funny tools and looks into my ears and mouth.

She then goes into all that grown-up doctor talk with Mommy and Daddy, saying something about bloodwork. Soon we leave the doctor room and she tells me to run down the hall so she can see how I do it. I guess she doesn't know how to run. She says I'm a good runner and jumper. Yay! I get a big Winnie the Pooh sticker and a big Tigger sticker. Double Yay!

Then we go down the elevator into another room. I show off my stickers to a nice lady working at the front desk. A man comes into the waiting room and says my name. Mommy holds my hand and we all go into a little room that has a curtain for a wall and Mommy and I sit on a funny chair. Another man comes in the room. Both men are dressed in long white coats and have a picture of themselves on what looks like a credit card, but it's attached to their pockets. They seem nice. I look at this big blue rubber band that is being tied to my arm left. Kinda tight, I think to myself. Then one man tells Mommy to hold down my right arm. He holds down my left arm. Hey! What's going on? OWWIEE!! The other man takes a long, sharp, pointy needle and slides it in my arm! "EEEEEE," I wimper and watch them take a lot of blood from me. I try to stay strong and I don't let them see me cry. I'm a big girl! Soon (but not soon enough) it is over and I get a whole bunch of big stickers as a reward. I would rather have my blood back. I'm bandaged up and good to go. Mommy holds me while I wimper some more and Daddy says that I'm a very brave and I did a great job. I hurt and am confused and sad.

Once we get to the car I can't contain how upset I am. I bawl. "Waaahhhhhh!!! It hurts!!! I got a big owie!!! Waahhhh!!!!" Daddy gives me big cuddles and then puts me in my carseat. We drive back to school. I cry a bit.

Once at school, I show everyone my stickers, my bandage, and tell them all about my visit to the doctor and how I got poked with a needle and that my arm hurts so don't touch it!

In six months, I get to go back for another visit. Mommy says that I will have forgotten this whole ordeal. Unfortunately, my memory is better than Mommy realizes...