Hi,
This is Clay Stevenson and welcome to Of Mice and Moments,
A podcast that finds significance in the small moments.
Every now and again one of my kids,
Out of the blue,
Asks about their next doctor's appointment.
And they only ask when they know they're getting shots.
Shots.
The object of the very worst experience for an elementary aged kid.
My kids have screamed,
Kicked,
Tried to run away,
You name it.
In their minds there's not much worse than getting a shot.
When we say goodnight,
Sometimes my daughter tells me about her day and about her daily exercises to convince herself that shots don't hurt.
Angie has convinced her to try daily positivity training.
Fortunately I also encourage her and let her know that shots are no big deal.
My trick is to not look.
I tell her that it's always over quickly and that it's nothing to be afraid of.
She gains strength from my strength,
Just like I gained strength from my dad.
My dad also used to encourage me when I was a kid and scared of shots.
He was invincible.
I remember watching him get a shot once when he was in the military.
He didn't flinch.
It was like the way my dog acts when he gets a shot.
I mean it's like it didn't even happen.
I was super impressed.
I mean seeing him so strong didn't take the pain of my own shots away.
But it did help me feel a bit more confident about the experience.
Later in life I remember asking my dad,
Incredulous of his bravery,
About why he wasn't scared of shots.
He told me that he gained his bravery from his dad.
We recalled a conversation with his dad,
My grandfather,
Before getting a shot when he was young.
My dad was whining and complaining about the shot and my grandfather took him aside and told my dad that he had nothing to worry about.
Shots didn't hurt at all.
My grandfather gave my dad a little of the old school tough love and told him that he needed to be strong and that it was weak to be scared of something as trivial as a shot.
My dad said that from that day on he always approached shots with toughness and ultimately they quit bothering him.
So you can see I have a legacy of toughness,
At least in the face of shots,
That was passed down to me as I'm passing it down to my kids.
When I was younger,
Just like my kids,
I needed someone to show me how to appropriately deal with temporary pain and discomfort.
The funny thing is that wasn't the end of my dad's story.
When my dad told me that story about how brave my grandfather was,
He mentioned an incident that happened later in life.
My dad was an adult and living close to his aging parents.
As dutiful children often do,
He helped chauffeur his parents to and from doctor's appointments.
On one such occasion,
His dad,
My grandfather again,
Was really dragging his feet getting out the door.
When my dad pressed him about his reluctance,
He mentioned that he was scheduled to get shots at the doctor's office.
Incredulous,
My dad reminded my grandfather that he was indifferent about shots.
After all,
He was the person who instilled confidence in my dad at such an early age.
My grandfather laughed and then confessed that he had lied to my dad that day and that he had always hated shots.
Now what's even more odd about this is that I hate shots too.
I'm embarrassed to admit it,
But I almost passed out once after getting a shot.
For me,
There's something psychological about not being in control in a doctor's office.
Fortunately over the years,
I've learned to cope and I sit still for the poor nurses who have to take blood or give shots all day,
But it's been a process.
So that legacy of toughness passed down from generations really isn't as tough as it seems.
And to be honest,
When I encourage my kids to be tough in the face of shots at the doctor's office,
I'll tell them about how my grandfather was scared of needles and about how I was scared of needles so they realize that they are not inadequate because they're afraid or hesitant.
But I'll also let them know that in the end,
Both my grandfather and I learned to face these fears,
To deal with them and even embrace the temporary pain or discomfort.
In doing so,
Hopefully I'll pass down not only a legacy of toughness,
But a legacy of honesty and openness.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
