you're hurting me taking my blood!

Well, I finally took SJ to get his blood work yesterday. I had lost the prescription for a few weeks. After I found it, I was in no particular hurry to get it done. SJ HATES getting his blood work done. His specialist runs a battery of tests on his blood. He checks metal and mineral levels. He checks his gluten (Flour) and casein (milk) levels. He also checks his cholesterol and a few other things I can't decipher.

Usually, I take him to Children's Hospital. It is a great place, but it is a pretty far drive. Our local hospital had recently opened a satellite office nearby. I had just been there last week to get a sonogram on my thyroid and I asked if they did blood work. They gave me a list of things they can't draw. I checked the list yesterday and it appeared that they would be able to draw for each tests.

I had called in advance and talked to a super helpful lady. She assured me that they would be able to do the blood work. I told her that we would be there within an hour, but truly it was closer to 90 minutes. As soon as I told SJ that we were going to get his blood work done, he started throwing a fit! He started crying and asking not to go. "Can't we go tomorrow?" asked SJ. "No, they are not open," I lied. He always wants to put off anything non-preferred to another day.

We got there and I registered him. It took them quite a while to get the tubes labeled and ready. The tech came out twice to reassure us that she was almost done. Finally after waiting 42 minutes, we were called back. "Does he do okay with getting his blood work?" she asked. "As good as can be expected," I replied. She asked me to hold his arm still and she put the blue band around his arm. "You're hurting me," yelled SJ. She hadn't even put in the butterfly needle yet. "You're fine. She didn't even do anything yet," I told him.

I told him to look away, but of course he didn't listen. "Ow! You're hurting me," yelled SJ again. "Stop taking my blood," pleaded SJ. I told SJ to stay calm. "See, there is only one needle and 5 tubes. That is so much less than they usually take," I told him. When we go to Children's Hospital, they take about 13 test tubes. However, they are much skinnier. These tubes were fairly bigger and they took more blood. After the second tube was filled, he asked if she was done. "Not yet, honey. Three more to go," the tech said. She tried to talk to him to distract him, but he was having nothing to do with that. "Make her stop, Mom. It is hurting me," he cried. "It is almost over," I reassured him. At one point during tube four, SJ let out an ear piercing cry. "Stop yelling like that," I said. "You will scare the old people in the lobby."

Finally when she got to tube five, he was just whining. "Do you want to stop for a treat on the way home?" I asked him. "We could get a donut," I added. "It is not Sunday," said SJ. The tech gave him some stickers and told him he did a great job. "Sorry for his behavior," I said. "He is on the spectrum." SJ said, "My brother says I am autistic, but I am not." I said, "Yes, you are." He said, "No, I am not." She looked at me and said, "Don't worry about it. My son is on the spectrum too." Now I know why she was so patient. You have to be patient when you are raising a child on the spectrum. I told her good luck and she said the same to me. I will take any luck that I can get!