Once Dr. Nickel's had established that she was growth hormone deficient we found out about the treatment. Which was a shot. Every. Day. How do you break it to an about-to-turn-four-year-old that she will have to have a shot every day for the next ten years or so? With a PARTY, of course! We planned a "shot party." We had everyone come who may possibly ever need to give her a shot, like grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. And they brought presents. We had dinner and had cake and a shot. We had a nurse scheduled to come to our party who would be teaching all possible shot givers how to administer her growth hormone. She explained to us how the pen worked, how to reload it with medication, where to give the shot, and most importantly HOW to give the shot. Brennan and Sy look especially concerned...
The pen LOOKED harmless enough...
There was a brief look on her face of "what was that?", a few tears, and then she was back to playing with her cousins. Since Tony had to do the shot the first night it was my turn to do the shot the next night. I dreaded it ALL DAY LONG. I stalled, bargained, piddled, anything I could think of to get out of it - but I couldn't. It had to be done. I was dreading the tears, I was dreading making her cry every day for the next ten years or so, and I was dreading that betrayed and surprised look on her face again. I was miserable. She, on the other hand, hadn't given it much thought, and took it like the strong willed, tough little girl that she was and was back to doing her own thing before I could dry my tears...
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