I had a Dr.’s apointment today which included some blood work, and was reminded of the first time our son had blood drawn.

I knew ahead of time that they would take a sample, and knew that if he could cooperate it would all go much better, so I prepped him.  I talked about why it was needed, what it would feel like, and how if he sat still it would be over quick.

The big morning came and my brave boy was a champ.  He looked a little pale, but he sat like a stone and never cried.  After it was over I gave him a hug and told him how proud I was.  He seemed a little relieved, but remained quiet.  Still, no worries, right?

It was when we got in the car that he asked his question.

“Mom?  When will I die?”

What!?

He explained that he knew our bodies must have blood to live, and they’d just taken his, so wasn’t he going to die?

Needless to say, I laid that concern to rest.  But I wished I’d thought to explain just a little more before he had the blood drawn!