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Everything is Under Control, Except for Me

This post is kind of about vaccinations but not really; it just involves them and I happened to be there when they happened, so in a way it’s about them and the fact that I do them (well, *I* don’t do them, lovely nurses do, I’m just in charge of pinning my kid down; that’s really what this is about, the pinning them down part. I’m going to stop speaking in parenthetical now), so if you have a problem with me vaccinating or the fact that I do it on a spread out schedule, let’s save all that rage and opinion for another time, okay? Because this one is really about me.

I took Vivi in her for vaccinations last Thursday and about fell over when the nurse said Vivi was due for 7 pokes with another bonus in 4 weeks. Not because I had missed any, simply because seven plus a four week booster is what’s suggested.

Have you met Vivi? She may be mighty, but she is small, SEVEN SHOTS? Nope. Try four now, four more in four weeks. Seven shots in one day? I can’t be the only one who thinks that’s a little crazy.

You see, the last time Vivi got shots things didn’t go so well. She felt like hell for at least three days after, which means everyone in the house kind of looked and felt like hell as well. When I talked to her doctor about it, he’s the one who suggested holding off and spacing them out next time so we could really pin down which shot was the one that did that little kid in. It was stressful enough taking her in knowing what may be in store for all of us over the next three days, but compounded on top of that was the “ARE YOU SURE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT TO DO?” looks and questions from the nurses as well as keeping a toddler entertained at a medical office for an hour then pinning her down pantsless so four needles can be shoved into her meaty thighs.

THE SCREAMING.

Two very close family friends contracted polio very young, so no one will be changing my mind about vaccines for my kids at this point, thank you.

But I’d like to know if there will ever be an easier way to administer them. I realize having them licked on by kittens may be a stretch, but perhaps something is in development? I hope?

By the time I left the office my nerves and anxiety were ALL THE WAY UP HERE OMG and my husband had to physically sit me down when I got home because of all the pacing I was doing.

Vivi was fiiiiine of course, like nothing ever happened. Her appetite, sleep and mood were just as spunky and perfect as usual, I on the other hand. Phew.

Tonight I took Addie in to get her flu shot; feeling her start to sweat and her little heart go rabbit speed inside her chest was enough to wreck me all over again. She started to cry but she held it together by holding my hand. I realize we’re not supposed to feed emotions with food, but there was a milkshake place right next door and you’d better believe we both earned one.

To the children everywhere who hate shots? I can promise that seeing you scared and in pain hurts your parent’s heart a lot more than the actual needle hurts your arm (or leg.)

Now pass the ice cream bars, it’s been a week up in here.

 

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