Ian's annual checkup at the pediatrician was yesterday. He always asks several times on the way there if he will be getting a shot. I checked in advance - no shots with this visit. Needles terrify this child. He thinks he is being murdered whenever a needle comes near his body. It has always been this way.

When we got there, he asked the receptionist, the nurse, and the doctor if he would be getting a shot. They all confirmed what I had already said six times: no shots this time.

Then the doctor asked if I wanted him to get the flu shot. I thought about it for a few minutes, then said, "No. I promised him no shots today, and I want to keep my word." Then she told me about the nasal spray vaccine. We gave Ian the choice of the spray, a shot, or nothing, letting him know that nothing meant he might catch the flu. He chose the nasal spray.

He handled that part really well.

Then we had to break the news to him that we needed to do some blood work. I knew this was coming, but I did not tell him because he would have fought me every step of the way to office - and the kid weighs 71 pounds now.

Naturally, he protested. It was terrible. Two nurses - one to help hold him and the other to draw the blood - and I tried to keep him still enough to get the necessary amount for the testing. He screamed, pleaded, cried, kicked, and thrashed. We wrestled on the floor, under the table, and into a corner.

Hint: Never try to take blood out of a kid who is sitting on the floor. Blood does not flow horizontally through a needle into a vile with much success, especially when the arm is flailing.

Through all of this, my precious daughter was standing in the corner covering her ears with her hands and crying. She whipsered, "Ian, you're going to be o.k." over and over, trying to soothe her brother and herself.

Eventually, I was able to convince Ian that if he sat on the table with his arm dangling down, the blood would come out really fast and we could get it over with. He calmed down and heard my words. Then he climbed up on the table. Never before has he willingly put himself in the position to be stuck with a needle.

We still had to hold him, but at least it wasn't with as tight a grip this time. In about a minute the struggle was over and everyone could relax.

I am not sure if what got us through was Ian's desire to get out of there or the fact that I promised him 10 marbles for his reward jar. Maybe it was a little of both. Ainsley earned some marbles, too, for being so supportive.

There is an EKG in the near future for Ian. I have no idea how to get him through that.