I’ve decided Rick will need to take Josiah to his Dr. appointments from now on.  I made that decision today, after taking Josiah to see his pediatrician. It was not a fun visit.

Josiah is small for his age. His current weight is just 53 pounds. But his strength defies his size. Josiah is very, very strong. I notice it mostly when I’m helping him through situations he would much rather avoid.

Fortunately, Josiah held my hand and walked in the Drs. office today with ease. He even sat quite nicely in the waiting room. That hasn’t always been the case. I remember recent visits when Josiah refused to walk through the door into the waiting area. He just plopped himself down on the sidewalk out front and screamed. Today was much easier. Until they called his name.

Josiah has learned over the years that Drs. offices are not fun places. He refuses to step on the scale. He fights when the nurse tries to take his temperature. He resists walking into the examining room. Every single part of the visit is filled with frustration for him.

His pediatrician is amazing. He genuinely loves children and interacts so well with them.  He’s very gentle. He makes them laugh.  He’s great with Josiah; loving, patient and kind.

Josiah tolerates his presence in the room for all of 30 seconds.

I typically hold Josiah on my lap. The Dr. moves in. Josiah begins to scream. His arms flail. His legs kick. To get through the next few minutes, I straddle my legs over and around Josiah’s legs, pinning them down. I wrap my arms around his arms, holding them to his sides. I hold my head at an awkward angle to avoid being clobbered by Josiah’s thrashing head.  All the while, the Dr. moves in very close. Our knees touch. He does his best to get a peak in Josiah’s ears. He listens to his lungs, though I can’t imagine how he can hear anything with the intense screams echoing through the room.

It all lasts only a few minutes. When it’s over, I am exhausted. The fight has taken every ounce of my strength. Even after the Dr. leaves the room, Josiah continues to scream. I comfort him. I reassure him it is finished. Today I discover if I calmly say ‘stop’ while signing it with my hands, Josiah settles down. So simple. We wait for the perscriptions. And now Josiah does not want to leave. He signs ‘home’ but refuses to walk out the door.

We struggle again. Josiah makes it down the hall into the waiting room, but then decides he is done walking. He wants me to carry him. This is a battle I won’t lose. I refuse to pick him up. I stand in the doorway, say nothing and simply wait. Josiah plops to the ground and screams. Eventually he is so mad he jumps up to lunge at me. I use the momentum to grab his hand and hurry out the door.

I strap Josiah in his car seat and drive away. Yes, Rick will have to take Josiah to all his Drs. appointments from now on. I smile to myself.

I think I have just made an excellent decision.