Routine lab work, it seemed. We scheduled our time as usual and showed up with our appointment to avoid lines or waits for Kelsey. On average, Kelsey has to draw between 6-21 vials. Though that sounds alarming (and sometimes looks equally as alarming), we are as used to this procedure as possible at this time.
Kels likes to talk as she awaits the needlepoint. She typically handles herself so maturely that she does not even require a handhold. Sometimes, she likes to do so just for added security. This weekend, she said, “I’ve got this.”
The technician was surprised by Kelsey’s wit and conversation and we sign the papers and verify the information. She was also delighted with Kelsey’s mature conversation and positive attitude upon sitting in the chair. “How old are you?” she asked repeatedly with the joyful young woman who sat before her in the chair.
Suddenly, Kelsey’s face changed as the needle went into her arm. Nothing was coming out… she said softly yet firmly, “It hurts so much,” as a tear ran down her cheek.
The technician called for assistance and looked nervous. We all tried to stay calm. I shot a look of concern to the technician as Kelsey grabbed a hold of me tightly. Something routine turned into a scare in a matter of seconds.
Within a few minutes, it was over. The vein was properly identified and the vials were full. Inside, I was shaking and alarmed, but outwardly praised Kelsey and held her tightly.
Before we left, the technician stopped Kelsey to say, “Thank you for showing me such grace today. Many adults would not have been able to do that.”
Brave has become a past time for Kelsey.
When we got in the car, tears filled my adult eyes and Kelsey ripped off the band-aid to “forget about all of that.” #thisishowIbrave she said with her BRAVE headband on and a smile.
