The face of nothing good

Nate had to go to the doctor on Friday for the third time in six weeks, to check on the progress of removing a wart on his toe. Twice it had been frozen off, and again the doctor told him it would have to be frozen again. But...they didn't have the freezing equipment and had to drive to the other office to get it.

What ensued was 15 minutes of pure terror for Nate. He laid on the examining table and cried and screamed the whole time. "Mommy, just hold me!" I could do nothing to calm him. It was one of the worst feelings of my life. He was so scared of what was coming he couldn't rationalize anything. Every time he heard footsteps in the hall, he would freak out again, thinking they were coming in to freeze it. Not even the promise of a movie night, chocolate, or a trip to the gas station.

This was a far cry from what we had had in the car on the way to the doctor. "Mommy, I'm four now. I won't need to hold your hand. I am tough."

I took this photo after it was all over and he had calmed down. See how emotionally drained he is? This is not my normal Nate.

And the result? We get to go back in two more weeks. I am hoping we don't have to go through this again. Please, stupid virus, go away.