Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 82

“But I don’t wanna!” Jamie didn’t wanna and was feeling pretty adamant about it.

“I’m sorry, baby, but you have to. It’s past time.”

“Well, if it’s past time then clearly I’m fine and this isn’t necessary.”

“James Patrick, this isn’t up for discussion.” Becky wasn’t going to relent.

“But …”

“Uh-uh. You have two choices right now. You can walk inside, or I can carry you inside.”

“Fine,” Jamie huffed. He’d walk in, if only to preserve some semblance of dignity.

“Good morning,” Becky said to the receptionist. “James Patrick Webb for Dr. Bowers.”

“The nurse will call you when they’re ready for you.” Becky and Jamie sat down to wait. He was committed to pouting. He didn’t want a shot. He was fine with vaccinations, but the last time he’d had a shot, it felt like they’d administered it with a nail. He’d never had a shot hurt so much, and he wasn’t interested in having another one.

“I wish Manda was here,” Jamie peevishly said. The statement hurt Becky’s little.

“Well, I’m starting to wish she was here, too,” Becky responded. She didn’t mean to sound harsh, but she only had so much patience and had been arguing with Jamie since bedtime yesterday. She fished around in her purse and came up with a pacifier. “Here. Maybe this will make you feel better.”

“Jamie for Dr. Bowers,” a nurse called out from the door to the inner office area. Becky picked Jamie up and carried him in. He glared at the nurse. Once behind closed doors, the nurse asked, “Just here for a check-up, right?”

“Right,” Becky said, setting Jamie on the table and urging him to lie down, which he didn’t. His arms re-crossed his chest as he sat there to continue his pouting and non-participation.

After seven minutes of silence, Dr. Bowers came into the office with a simultaneous knock-enter. Becky stood up, but the doctor went straight for Jamie. “You must be Jamie. Nice to meet you.” The man held out his hand, and Jamie grudgingly shook it without a word, keeping his pacifier firmly in his lips, something he was no longer ashamed to do, having gotten feeling self-conscious about doing something so little. The doctor was older with salt-and-pepper hair, and a cartoon cat hung from around his stethoscope.

“We’re a little unhappy this morning,” Becky offered.

“As well you should be, Jamie,” Bowers said. “No one likes going to the doctor, but I bet we can get this over with fast.” He was all smiles and indicated for Jamie to lay down. He asked questions of Becky while listening to Jamie’s heart and lungs and bowel sounds.

“He’s totally over that stomach bug,” he asked.

“For weeks now,” Becky assured him.

“Then let’s get this taken care of. Sorry, Jamie, but you need a couple of vaccinations.” A couple? Jamie was feeling too scared to be angry anymore. He looked away. “We’ll make it real fast. Promise.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Becky said.

“I’ll send in my specialist for this,” he winked.

“C’mere, baby.” Becky put Jamie in her lap. He didn’t understand why he was so afraid. So it would hurt. It wasn’t the first thing that had hurt him, and it wouldn’t be the last. Why was this so different? Could he have really developed a phobia of needles from that one experience?

Another knock-entry, and this time the person who came through the door was a woman almost twenty year’s Becky’s senior. She was short, with curly grey hair and a disarming smile. She looked like a prototype from the grandma factory. Jamie knew she bore needles. He knew she was false.

“Hi, Jamie. I’m Nurse Graves. We’ll have you all done in just a sec.” Jamie trembled. Nurse Graves. Jamie didn’t find that funny.

“Thank you, Nurse Graves,” Becky replied. She could feel Jamie shaking. She hadn’t realized he was so afraid. She thought he was nervous and being difficult, but not so afraid he would shake on her lap as the moment grew imminent. She bent her head down and kissed his hair. “It’ll be okay,” she tried to reassure him.

The nurse prepared two syringes, an alcohol wipe, and two band-aids. “Best if we get this done fast. Hold him real still for me.” Becky put one arm around Jamie’s waist and held his arm at the elbow with the other. Jamie clenched his eyes shut. The nurse rolled up his sleeve.

The alcohol wipe felt cold and then hot as she rubbed it vigorously on his exposed skin, the air feeling especially cool when she took the wipe away. Jamie clenched his arm. “That’s gonna make it hurt worse, baby. Relax your arm for me … there you go … 1, 2 and 3” The first needle slipped in.

Jamie gasped and turned his head into Becky, his eyes clamped shut.

“And 1, 2, and 3. All done.” She stuck the band-aids on his arm. Jamie sucked in air.

“Jamie … Jamie, you gotta breathe, honey…” Becky jostled his shoulder. With his face buried in his mom, Jamie wailed. “There you go, let it out.” She rubbed his back and kissed his head.

“There’s nothing wrong with his lungs,” fake grandma half-yelled over Jamie. “Take all the time you need.” She put a cookie on the counter and backed out the door.

“Shh,” Becky cooed at Jamie. “It’s all over.”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie sobbed around his paci.

“It’s okay. I know it hurt.”

Jamie picked his head up and took his pacifier out. “For what I said in the waiting room. I’m sorry,” he sniffled.

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t realize how afraid you were” she said, taking the slobbery pacifier from him, shocked to see he’d bitten through it. “We all have our bad days.”

“My arm hurts.” Becky chuckled.

“I know. I’m sorry it hurts.” She kissed him again.

“I really am sorry. That was horrible for me to say,” Jamie whimpered.

“Really, Jamie. All is forgiven.” She moved him so he was standing on her thighs and smiled at him. “Do you forgive me?” He nodded. “Hug?” They embraced, and he hung around her neck. “You wanna go home?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You want that cookie?”

“Uh-huh.”

She unwrapped the cookie and handed it to him. “Let’s go home, baby.”