A Spoonful Of Medicine

One of the most challenging tasks of a parent is to get a sick child to take his medicine.

With Son No 1, it was near impossible when he was younger. The only reason we brought him to see the doctor was to make sure there was nothing more serious. He hardly took any medicine the doctor prescribed. We tried all sorts of ways: gentle persuasion, trickery (mixing the medicine with some other food or liquid), bribery, physical manhandling and logical discourse. But all to no avail. It was always a trying time. Luckily, his body always recovered and now, he has no problems at all.

Son No 2 was more cooperative but the only thing was he had this in-built self-gagging mechanism. When he did not like the medicine, he would throw up everything after swallowing the medicine. He invented the term "throwing-up bowl" in our household. We always have one vesicle beside him so that he would not mess up the place.

Now with Son No 3, it is different. He generally has a positive attitude towards medicine. This probably stems from his love for food. If his brothers were sick and he was not, he would feign some illness so that he could also take medicine. I know his favourites - the orange-flavoured panadol syrup and actifed, the anti-histamine.

But his recent illness threw up a new precedence. Of the 5 bottles of medicine that he needed to take, he would cheerfully take four of them. When it came to the antibiotic, he would protest tearfully. It must be really yucky. This morning, the maid and I held on to the spoonful of antibiotic for close to one hour, talking to him, reasoning, bargaining, cajoling. We even created a fantasy with the antibiotic as the ammunition to attack the germs, a la the games that they like to play. It was only when Dad threatened with the cane that he yielded.

Now, it's almost time for the antibiotic dose again. I call for patience....