BRATS
Working in pediatrics is one of the most rewarding professions. Children are absolutely wonderful, fascinating, funny, and loving....most of the time. Today, a two-year old got the best of me and nailed me square in the 'nads. I have an ice pack in my lap as I write. This little guy was strong and very determined not to have his ears examined.
Typically, I will do a lap exam on children that are frightened, or in this case, combative. A parent will usually help restrain the more resistant, keeping those little hands from ripping off my glasses and pulling out my eyes.
Ninety-nine percent of children cooperate with a routine ear examination. I hand them the otoscope and ask them to hold it for me -- a quasi-risking act, since our fiberoptic otoscopes cost a few hundred dollars. He wouldn't play this game as he screamed protests from under one of the examining room chairs. I usually tell them that I need to check the ears for birds. Once I have their attention on this improbable infestation, I carefully examine their ears by making tiny, little chirping, bird-sounds, much to their delight and puzzlement.
Not only does this little game hold their close attention while I take time to examine their ears, it also tells me that they can hear. Not this guy... There was nothing we could do to convince him to cooperate. I was just pleased that he didn't flip ME the bird.
So, Mom fished him out from under the chair and the arms and legs began to madly wave in perfect unison with this cries of protest. We laid him down in Mom's lap, she held his hands, and I had the legs...more or less.
I can usually pin the legs while I examine his ears, but this little Houdini quickly escaped, and with a carefully-executed karate move, he drove that bare foot home, connecting with one of my boys.
Immediate waves of nausea resulted as I repositioned myself, determined to complete my exam. Besides, I had one good testicle left. And, wouldn't you know it, BOTH ear canals were filled with wax -- the scourge of otologist everywhere. It seems that the level of uncooperativeness is directly proportional to the amount of earwax.
With Master Miyagi lovingly restrained now, I was able to remove the earwax using my trusty cerumen loop so that I could see if he had an ear infection or not. He did not. I took a few extra moments to search his scalp for a 666.
Mom apologized for my inadvertent injuries and I limped quietly to my office.
I had another 18-month old female version later in the day, and it wasn't even a full moon...just a Monday. Again, she was not going to go down easy. I had both parents this time, and I stay clear of those feet.
As she screamed and danced in place, frustrated that she quickly lost the battle of the otoscope, I calmly reached into my goody cabinet and took out a sugar-free lollipop. Her bug-eyed grimace instantly changed to a smile of delight, as she ran to me. I picked her up, she gave me a big hug, and I gave her the lollipop. What a Drama-Mama!
BRATS, an acronym for Behaviorally-Resistant and Tantrums (I made that up, but it fits) compose a significant part of our practice.
I am not sure if brats are created, or they are born that way. Some parents are completely oblivious to the misbehavior of their children.
About ten years ago, I was working a 12-hour shift in the local urgent care center. I went in to examine an 8- year old boy who was as yellow as a canary; most likely Hepatitis A, the most common form of hepatitis.
Hepatitis A is transmitted by the fecal-oral route, a rather disgusting thought. As I was examining his jaundiced eyes, I told him that he was going to need a blood test. Without missing a beat, he spit directly in my face, another great way to transmit hepatitis.
Fortunately, I am well-immunized, but the assault caught me completely off-guard. The mother, witnessing this act of aggression, simply said, "Honey, don't spit in his face."
My only chance for retribution was a hope that that blood test may really hurt. As a matter of fact, I ordered a blood test for the mother, too!
Related Topics: Top 10 Parenting Pitfalls, Kids Often Depress Parents
Typically, I will do a lap exam on children that are frightened, or in this case, combative. A parent will usually help restrain the more resistant, keeping those little hands from ripping off my glasses and pulling out my eyes.
Ninety-nine percent of children cooperate with a routine ear examination. I hand them the otoscope and ask them to hold it for me -- a quasi-risking act, since our fiberoptic otoscopes cost a few hundred dollars. He wouldn't play this game as he screamed protests from under one of the examining room chairs. I usually tell them that I need to check the ears for birds. Once I have their attention on this improbable infestation, I carefully examine their ears by making tiny, little chirping, bird-sounds, much to their delight and puzzlement.
Not only does this little game hold their close attention while I take time to examine their ears, it also tells me that they can hear. Not this guy... There was nothing we could do to convince him to cooperate. I was just pleased that he didn't flip ME the bird.
So, Mom fished him out from under the chair and the arms and legs began to madly wave in perfect unison with this cries of protest. We laid him down in Mom's lap, she held his hands, and I had the legs...more or less.
I can usually pin the legs while I examine his ears, but this little Houdini quickly escaped, and with a carefully-executed karate move, he drove that bare foot home, connecting with one of my boys.
Immediate waves of nausea resulted as I repositioned myself, determined to complete my exam. Besides, I had one good testicle left. And, wouldn't you know it, BOTH ear canals were filled with wax -- the scourge of otologist everywhere. It seems that the level of uncooperativeness is directly proportional to the amount of earwax.
With Master Miyagi lovingly restrained now, I was able to remove the earwax using my trusty cerumen loop so that I could see if he had an ear infection or not. He did not. I took a few extra moments to search his scalp for a 666.
Mom apologized for my inadvertent injuries and I limped quietly to my office.
I had another 18-month old female version later in the day, and it wasn't even a full moon...just a Monday. Again, she was not going to go down easy. I had both parents this time, and I stay clear of those feet.
As she screamed and danced in place, frustrated that she quickly lost the battle of the otoscope, I calmly reached into my goody cabinet and took out a sugar-free lollipop. Her bug-eyed grimace instantly changed to a smile of delight, as she ran to me. I picked her up, she gave me a big hug, and I gave her the lollipop. What a Drama-Mama!
BRATS, an acronym for Behaviorally-Resistant and Tantrums (I made that up, but it fits) compose a significant part of our practice.
I am not sure if brats are created, or they are born that way. Some parents are completely oblivious to the misbehavior of their children.
About ten years ago, I was working a 12-hour shift in the local urgent care center. I went in to examine an 8- year old boy who was as yellow as a canary; most likely Hepatitis A, the most common form of hepatitis.
Hepatitis A is transmitted by the fecal-oral route, a rather disgusting thought. As I was examining his jaundiced eyes, I told him that he was going to need a blood test. Without missing a beat, he spit directly in my face, another great way to transmit hepatitis.
Fortunately, I am well-immunized, but the assault caught me completely off-guard. The mother, witnessing this act of aggression, simply said, "Honey, don't spit in his face."
My only chance for retribution was a hope that that blood test may really hurt. As a matter of fact, I ordered a blood test for the mother, too!
Related Topics: Top 10 Parenting Pitfalls, Kids Often Depress Parents
6 Comments:
While I don't work with BRATS, I do work with some unwilling creatures of the furry/feathered/scaley variety at a vet clinic. I used to work with some really unruley critters as a zookeeper, and I have to say sometimes I really wished we could have darted the wallabies with ketamine instead of catching them up by the base of their tail. My boss once got a good kick by Spook in the 'nads. I have a couple good scars from Syd on my thighs...
Anyway, I thought your post was very insightful. Made me realize that two year olds can act just like Labs.
Brittney
I have a feeling it goes directly to parental responsibility. I don't think they're born that way. If I had EVER spit in the face of my doctor, my mother would not have just simply said "Don't spit in people's faces." I would have gotten slapped and promptly made to apologize. I would have then probably spent the rest of the day in my room.
Oh my as I read I thought of my own children and responces. Although a spank would be needed for the spiting onto someone else. As a mother of 2 I can't find one book that actually helps. My son is 5 and an influence on my 2 girl. However she is worse and teachs my son new ways to agatate mom. I've tried alot of things nothing seems to positivly effect them. Recently I read a article saying I needed to change my ways so thats currenly what I am working on. And any advise a doctor or other parents give is apreciated. My point is sometimes the mom does recognize the problem but does not know what to do about it. Thats me and for all the people who my children have agatated I am sorry and truly trying to "fix the behavior" I just dont know what else to do. I need a book that actually helps a person who may have had the same problem and corected it. I am open to advice but at the same time I'm at the end of my rope and barely hanging on. Maybe the mother could have used a bit of advise at that point? Maybe she just didnt know what to do anymore?
I was lucky that both of my girls behaved themselves with teachers, doctors, relatives, people of authority. They might torture Mom at home, but they knew better than to do it to Dad or to outsiders. One has to instill manners and good behavior from birth or you've lost them for good-definitely before the age of 5.
However, my 2nd daughter, now 20, still loves to aggravate me. From infancy on, she'd examine my facial features to determine her effect. I learned to stifle emotion, distribute justice immediately, and establish authority. It seems dogs and children take advantage of weak moms - be strong.
I would like to know if anone can help me, i've been passing yellowish grape size sacs in my stool and I've researched and researched and still haven't found out what they are, if anyone knows please tell me.
I learned respect for others from my Grandfather who we all loved and feared just a litte too. How did I learn respect from him? Because he gave respect to everyone, even the smallest diaper-baby and demanded that everyone give it to everyone else and noone disobeyed Grandpa.
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