Quarterly Clinics and a Big Milestone
Every few months, we travel to Children’s Mercy for Olivia’s cystic fibrosis clinic visit which includes lung function tests, updates to her treatment plan, and now routine blood draws to monitor her liver health. These labs were once the most difficult part of her care, bringing tears, fear, and resistance.
At her most recent visit, something quietly incredible happened.
Olivia walked into the lab, sat in the chair, and said, “I’m ready.” No panic. No hiding. No bargaining. She faced her blood draw anxiety with a calm strength I hadn’t seen before. That moment felt like exhaling after holding my breath for four years.
Even more powerful — Olivia noticed her own bravery. She said afterward, “I didn’t even cry! I’m not scared like I used to be.”
When Procedural Anxiety First Appeared
Olivia’s procedural anxiety began around age four. It started with small refusals, temperature checks, blood pressure cuffs, then slowly grew into intense fear around throat swabs, shots, and blood draws.
Appointments stretched hours longer than they should have. We tried everything to make her feel safe, but some days nothing worked. More often than not, most appointments ended with us having to hold her still to complete even simple procedures. As parents, that broke our hearts.
Living with cystic fibrosis means that so much of life is outside of your control — tests, medications, surgeries, hospital stays. Long before Olivia had the words to say “I’m scared,” her body had already learned to panic.
She has endured more medical trauma at age 8 than many adults. So when she began to show severe medical and blood draw anxiety, it made perfect, heartbreaking sense.
The Hardest Days: Tears, Fear, and Exhaustion
I remember those clinic days vividly.
The night before, our house held a quiet tension. Kevin and I tried to act calm, but both of us silently wondered how bad tomorrow would be. I’d tuck her in and already feel my chest tighten.
The next morning, we’d gently talk her through what would happen. But in the rearview mirror I’d see her staring out the window, shoulders stiff, lost in worry.
During blood draws, she’d go back and forth, “I’m ready… I’m not ready… I can’t…” She cried and begged us not to let anyone touch her. Sometimes this back-and-forth lasted 45 minutes, until the only option was to hold her still so it could be over.
Some days, the bravest thing she did was get in the car.
Throat swabs, vaccines, and vitals brought the same fear. She’d hide in the corner, freeze, shut down. Afterward, she’d fall asleep in the car, completely drained. So were we.
Clinic days are already long. But during that season, they felt endless. I remember wondering, Will she ever walk into a clinic without fear gripping her whole body?
What Helped: Tools, Therapy, and Support
Not everything helped, but these made a difference in helping her cope with medical anxiety:
Child Life Support
The Child Life Services team at Children’s Mercy helped Olivia through blood draw anxiety and fear. They brought toys, distractions, breathing exercises, and, more importantly, understanding. They helped her feel seen, not forced.
Therapy & Emotional Support
Play therapy, CBT, and PCIT helped her name her fears and learn coping tools. They reminded us that helping kids cope with medical anxiety takes time, patience, and language for their feelings.
Choices & Control
Procedures still had to happen, but we gave her choices: Which arm? Sitting in the chair or on Mom’s lap? Count to three, or no counting? These moments gave back a little control.
Pain Relief Tools
We used numbing cream and plastic wrap an hour before blood draws. Nurses used cold spray and “buzzy bee” devices to distract nerves. Small tools, but they made her feel safer.
Comfort & Distraction
Favorite stuffed animal. Tablet and games. Fidget toys. My hand in hers. Comfort doesn’t erase fear, but it softens it.
Celebrating Small Wins
We celebrated every attempt. Even when she panicked but said “okay, I’ll try.” These small moments stacked over time.
Being consistently surrounded by kindness, nurses, Child Life, therapists, family, shaped Olivia’s heart. She knows what it feels like to be scared and supported.
The Turning Point from Fear to Confidence
Over the past year, something shifted.
Procedures that once caused complete shutdown became something she could manage. She started prepping herself before tests, deep breaths, rolling up her sleeve, whispering, “I can do this.”
She still felt fear, but she kept moving forward.
She learned to feel the fear — and move forward anyway.
Now she walks into a blood draw, does her vitals, and pushes through without shutting down. She even smiles after.
The best part? She sees it too. She’ll say, “I used to be so scared. I’m not like that anymore.” Recently, she’s also started sharing, “Maybe I can help other kids be brave too.”
Four Years Later: What Courage Looks Like Now
Olivia has worked hard to get here. She took ownership of her anxiety and now we get to see the fruit of that work.
Four years ago, I couldn’t imagine writing this with relief instead of dread. But slowly, step by step, she found courage.
Forward is still a pace.
And one of the most important parts of our journey was finally accepting help instead of trying to do it all alone.
To the Parents Walking This Road Too
If your child is facing procedural anxiety, blood draw fear, or medical trauma — you are not alone.
Keep moving forward, even if it’s slow. Offer choices. Ask for help. Find your support. Celebrate every tiny win. It all counts.
If your family is walking a similar road, I’d be honored to hear your story or simply stand beside you in it. You don’t have to do this alone.
Courage Given, Courage Shared
I am so grateful for Olivia’s cystic fibrosis care team at Children’s Mercy — the nurses, therapists, Child Life staff, and providers who met her with compassion when she felt afraid.
I’m grateful for Olivia’s courage.
And I’m grateful that now — after all the tears and fear — she’s looking for ways to help other kids feel brave too.
She remembers what it felt like to be scared, and now she wants to help other kids feel brave too.
If you’d like to read more about how she’s turning courage into giving, you can follow along here.
