The Sweet-Faced Nurse

First, let me just say that this post is not about vaccinations—wether or not you should get them. It’s really about a fascinating woman who will forever be “the Sweet-Faced Nurse” in my memory. Hence the title of this blog post.

I always hated taking my kids to get their vaccinations—for one simple reason. Shots hurt. But it was especially sad to me when they were tiny little babies—so unsuspecting, so trusting, and then suddenly so startled and terribly sad and betrayed and sometimes angry. A lot of emotions were stirred by those doctor visits.

The first time I took my oldest daughter to get her vaccinations, I was very surprised when, after administering the shots, the nurse put four enormous bandaids on her teeny tiny legs. The bandaids were SO big they wrapped all the way around her leg and overlapped. Four of those! And anyone who thinks about that for long will consider how sad it was going to be to get those suckers off! Betrayal all over again. 

Now I need to tell you more about this nurse. She was such a fantastic character and I’m really glad to have met her, because otherwise I might have doubted a character like this could really exist. But she did. Anyway, imagine the sweetest face in the world. A grandmotherly, twinkly-eyed, rosy-cheeked, very pretty lady. A person who would surely make the best sugar cookies and tell the best bedtime stories (provided she wasn’t interrupted). A little like Santa’s wife—Mrs. Claus. But then imagine that probably unlike Mrs. Claus, the moment this particular woman is crossed or questioned, even in the gentlest possible manner, the sweetness drops, the rosy cheeks turn a fiery red, and the twinkle in her eyes is replaced by a dark fury. I’ve never seen anyone look so much like they might internally combust. And that’s exactly the way her manner changed toward me that day long ago. Seeing the enormous bandaids she was about to stick onto my tiny crying child, I said, “Excuse me, do you think you could use a little bit smaller bandaids? You know— to make it easier to take them off later?”

Woe! It was like I lit some kind of fuse in that sweet-faced lady. She glared at me and said, “I use the big bandaids because baby’s bleed a lot and it messes up their clothes!” “Oh,” I said, startled. “I didn’t realize that.” 

Now, what this curious but fascinating character didn’t realize is that I too am a character. And although I probably didn’t look like I was about to internally combust, it was as if a different kind of fuse was lit in me that day. I had challenged the sweet-faced nurse and now the sweet-faced nurse had challenged me. A dual! Yes—that is what it was, and she had won the first round. But now I was wise to her tricks. The game was afoot! 

The next time I brought my baby for her vaccinations, the sweet-faced nurse showed me to the examination room, smiling kindly with her twinkly-eyed manner. Once again she gave my daughter the vaccinations and as she turned to grab the enormous bandaids she’d set out behind her, I reacted with super speed—whipping out my own tiny dot-bandaids. I was just putting the last one on when the nurse turned back around. I wish you could have seen her face. Boy was she mad. 

The bandaid war went on between us for some time (intermittently since I was only there every so often for vaccinations). And from that first visit onward I always came armed with tiny dot bandaids. I won most of the battles, but I think I do remember her snatching maybe one or two bandaid victories. 

I guess you could say the war ended when I switched doctors. But I’ll always smile as I think back on that sweet-faced, angry nurse and her giant bandaids. Aren’t people so funny and wonderful and fascinating? I wonder if she ever tells this story? I bet that if she does, she gets really mad about it every time.

~Amy