A few months ago, I was having my blood drawn in a lab when a young boy started crying a few stalls over. He sat in his stroller at counter-height while his dad used his arms to brace his body for the phlebotomist. The boy was terrified of needles or the sight of blood, both perhaps, but he was too young to explain. His pregnant mom had scooted behind my chair on her way to the lobby, likely hoping her absence would speed up the process.