Probably A Pretty Scary Story
Tara the Terrible. I will never forget this kid. They brought her into the Loma Linda University Hospital's Pediatric Hem-Onc ward screaming. Don't bring her in here don't bring her in here don't bring her in here... my spell totally failed because there was an empty bed, because Cam was mellow and had fortunately few issues, and because, frankly, the kid needed to be there.
While I sat there pretending to read, they muscled this kid into the bed and started to prepare for many, many blood draws.
"Don't worry," Momma cooed, "It won't hurt a bit."
Yeah. That shit hurts. A lot. But you get less screamy after they take that first pint. Then they leave the needle from the blood draws in, as an IV, or sometimes, you get a separate IV. Again:
"It's okay, sweetie, it's just a littttleee pinch."
Fury, thine name was Tara. She was about seven, with beautiful long blonde ringlets, big blue eyes, perfect tan skin, this kid was set to become the Teen Idol of her entire community in just a few short years. But then THIS happened.
Her parents took every opportunity to lie to her. She was just in for testing, she'd be home probably tomorrow. This wasn't going to hurt. They'd get her a Happy Meal tonight. She was just a little tiny bit sick, but nothing to worry about.
Completely stymied, the doctors asked me to sit down with Mom and Dad and explain that they were making a huge mistake. So I did. I told them flatly, even kids as young as a year know what you're saying, they understand what's going on. You've got to tell Tara what is happening so she can prepare herself for it, so she can understand why it's happening, and so she can trust you again. You keep lying to her and she can't believe a word you say.
No no. She was too young and fragile for that. She needed to be protected. I countered, you keep telling her this or that procedure isn't going to hurt and it hurts like hellfire. How is that protecting her? "That was because the nurses or doctors screwed up."
Right. Thus, my children, a perfectly normal if somewhat spoiled kid began her reign of terror. She was always okay with Cam and I. If her parents weren't there and something was going to happen, I'd just tell her what was going on (Though her parents would beg me to tell her the unicorns were coming to fart on her now and it would be fun).
Tara met Caprice, the same age as her. She and Caprice got on like gangbusters. Caprice knew everything that was going on and even read her own charts. She asked what Tara was in for, and Tara just shrugged. I guess my parents just want to get rid of me or something, she said.
Caprice rolled her eyes and snatched Tara's chart down. Oh look, how neat! We have the same cancer! But Caprice knew as well as everyone else, Tara's chances boiled down to slim and none. Caprice had a small but hopeful set of odds.
Caprice had neuroblastoma, stage one, Tara's was stage three. There weren't any survivors of stage three that we knew of.
This was what her parents were so desperately trying to shield her from. However, Caprice just shrugged and said "the doctors and nurses are really really good, they're going to do everything they can to fix this. It's just going to suck a whoollleee lot. But you've got to help them or you're toast."
Ta-Da. Tara finally got along with the nurses and staff. She would cling to me and wail the times when Cam was released, because she needed someone that could tell her what was going on, and the staff had been forbidden to tell her. I would pass her off to a teenager or another Mom or Dad who had no problem with it, even though it meant several times loud confrontations with her parents in the hallway or out back.
It took a lot, including the intervention of their employer, to get Tara's parents to finally realize that it's far less traumatic to be honest than to lie. Sure, no one wants to sit down with their kid and tell them something so horrible, but you do. You don't have to go into great detail, but you do want them to know that they're not being punished.
That's with anything. Kids automatically assume that it's their fault if something occurs. If you tell them they can't go to Johnny's house and don't add on 'he's got the mumps', the kid's positive they did something bad, but don't know what that was. If you tell them they can't join the cool new club, they're sure it's because they're bad, and not because, say, the club completely clashes with your beliefs. And if you tell them 'this won't hurt' and it DOES... Not only are they bad and being punished, but you're a liar, too. Especially if you insist afterwards 'see? That wasn't so bad.' Now you're also an idiot.
People may have giggled with Captain Hook told Jack to brace himself for his first ear piercing because it was really going to hurt - but that was the right thing to say.
Keep in mind, though, as the kids get older, they're going to question your reasons. So while they know you don't want them over at Johnny's because he's got the mumps, now they want to know what would happen if they got mumps. They're going to want to know why that club clashes with your beliefs. But they'll ask instead of blowing you off and go see for themselves if you've always been honest with them. Usually. Some kids just have to learn the hard way.
Point being, kids understand a lot more than we give them credit for. Answer their questions to the best of your ability and as honestly as you can. Look it up if you have to, and find age appropriate ways to explain. Be prepared for the kid to have a lot of curiousity about those things, especially if it's something you've forbidden. (Nothing is more attractive than the forbidden fruit!) Just answer and be honest.
And Tara?
Was one of the first survivors of stage Three neuroblastoma. Last time I saw her, she had her curls back, her tan back, and came skipping up to hug the stuffings out of me. She proudly informed me she was still 'The Terrible', because she didn't let ANYONE tell her lies.
Worked for me.
While I sat there pretending to read, they muscled this kid into the bed and started to prepare for many, many blood draws.
"Don't worry," Momma cooed, "It won't hurt a bit."
Yeah. That shit hurts. A lot. But you get less screamy after they take that first pint. Then they leave the needle from the blood draws in, as an IV, or sometimes, you get a separate IV. Again:
"It's okay, sweetie, it's just a littttleee pinch."
Fury, thine name was Tara. She was about seven, with beautiful long blonde ringlets, big blue eyes, perfect tan skin, this kid was set to become the Teen Idol of her entire community in just a few short years. But then THIS happened.
Her parents took every opportunity to lie to her. She was just in for testing, she'd be home probably tomorrow. This wasn't going to hurt. They'd get her a Happy Meal tonight. She was just a little tiny bit sick, but nothing to worry about.
Completely stymied, the doctors asked me to sit down with Mom and Dad and explain that they were making a huge mistake. So I did. I told them flatly, even kids as young as a year know what you're saying, they understand what's going on. You've got to tell Tara what is happening so she can prepare herself for it, so she can understand why it's happening, and so she can trust you again. You keep lying to her and she can't believe a word you say.
No no. She was too young and fragile for that. She needed to be protected. I countered, you keep telling her this or that procedure isn't going to hurt and it hurts like hellfire. How is that protecting her? "That was because the nurses or doctors screwed up."
Right. Thus, my children, a perfectly normal if somewhat spoiled kid began her reign of terror. She was always okay with Cam and I. If her parents weren't there and something was going to happen, I'd just tell her what was going on (Though her parents would beg me to tell her the unicorns were coming to fart on her now and it would be fun).
Tara met Caprice, the same age as her. She and Caprice got on like gangbusters. Caprice knew everything that was going on and even read her own charts. She asked what Tara was in for, and Tara just shrugged. I guess my parents just want to get rid of me or something, she said.
Caprice rolled her eyes and snatched Tara's chart down. Oh look, how neat! We have the same cancer! But Caprice knew as well as everyone else, Tara's chances boiled down to slim and none. Caprice had a small but hopeful set of odds.
Caprice had neuroblastoma, stage one, Tara's was stage three. There weren't any survivors of stage three that we knew of.
This was what her parents were so desperately trying to shield her from. However, Caprice just shrugged and said "the doctors and nurses are really really good, they're going to do everything they can to fix this. It's just going to suck a whoollleee lot. But you've got to help them or you're toast."
Ta-Da. Tara finally got along with the nurses and staff. She would cling to me and wail the times when Cam was released, because she needed someone that could tell her what was going on, and the staff had been forbidden to tell her. I would pass her off to a teenager or another Mom or Dad who had no problem with it, even though it meant several times loud confrontations with her parents in the hallway or out back.
It took a lot, including the intervention of their employer, to get Tara's parents to finally realize that it's far less traumatic to be honest than to lie. Sure, no one wants to sit down with their kid and tell them something so horrible, but you do. You don't have to go into great detail, but you do want them to know that they're not being punished.
That's with anything. Kids automatically assume that it's their fault if something occurs. If you tell them they can't go to Johnny's house and don't add on 'he's got the mumps', the kid's positive they did something bad, but don't know what that was. If you tell them they can't join the cool new club, they're sure it's because they're bad, and not because, say, the club completely clashes with your beliefs. And if you tell them 'this won't hurt' and it DOES... Not only are they bad and being punished, but you're a liar, too. Especially if you insist afterwards 'see? That wasn't so bad.' Now you're also an idiot.
People may have giggled with Captain Hook told Jack to brace himself for his first ear piercing because it was really going to hurt - but that was the right thing to say.
Keep in mind, though, as the kids get older, they're going to question your reasons. So while they know you don't want them over at Johnny's because he's got the mumps, now they want to know what would happen if they got mumps. They're going to want to know why that club clashes with your beliefs. But they'll ask instead of blowing you off and go see for themselves if you've always been honest with them. Usually. Some kids just have to learn the hard way.
Point being, kids understand a lot more than we give them credit for. Answer their questions to the best of your ability and as honestly as you can. Look it up if you have to, and find age appropriate ways to explain. Be prepared for the kid to have a lot of curiousity about those things, especially if it's something you've forbidden. (Nothing is more attractive than the forbidden fruit!) Just answer and be honest.
And Tara?
Was one of the first survivors of stage Three neuroblastoma. Last time I saw her, she had her curls back, her tan back, and came skipping up to hug the stuffings out of me. She proudly informed me she was still 'The Terrible', because she didn't let ANYONE tell her lies.
Worked for me.