Have YOU scheduled YOUR H1N1 vaccination?

I didn't realize it until just now, but NO ONE, not on this board or in private, has said to me they received or scheduled their vaccination for the H1N1 flu. Not that this flu is a taboo subject, in fact, I've had more than several discussions with friends and family members. But, I know of no adult who has had theirs. Odd little side bar note.

Which leads me to the topic of this thread.

I've finally made it (without catching the flu) to the date selected for my H1N1 shot soon to be delivered courtesy of the state of Pennsylvania.

I think I've read enough about the pros and cons of this vaccination to make the decision to have it administered, and on the plus side for you, you can read about the bureaucratic process later today as I experienced it in West Chester.

Many of you are probably getting a good chuckle over me writing about a simple shot, but I'm going to share, publicly, the fact that I am tending to the fears of a little girl who sometimes reminds me she still lives in me!

Taking me to an office visit at the doctor or dentist must have been a nightmare for my parents. They learned early not to tell me when they scheduled a visit to either office. I actually feel sorry for what they must have gone through.

My parents would simply take my siblings and me directly to the office with no prior explanation as to where we were going. Once I saw either building, I would immediately start to cry. Then I would sob, wail, and on at least two occasions, I fainted.

Doctors Hunter, Marez, and Lee would probably have total recall of my behavior.

I would refuse to get out of the car. As the eldest child with 5 other siblings, I had no problem staying out of reach in the back of my Father's station wagon. I would find the farthest point away from any door and plant myself there. However, my brothers and sisters, still too young to completely comprehend where we were and what was to happen, promtly took their cue from me and started to cry, too.

The cacophany and din were awesome and I was always grateful for their participation in the delay tactics.

Despite all the theatrics, eventually my brothers and sisters were all carried or escorted into which ever office we were due to be received, until I was the last in the car.

In complete exasperation, I'm certain, my Father would patiently climb into the car and take hold of any appendage of mine he could reach. Slowly, I would be extracted, with me literally holding on to an arm rest, door handle, whatever would slow my entrance in for the dreaded visit.

Arms and legs flailing I was carried into the office, and usually the door from the waiting room into the inner sanctum was already held open by a nurse. Did I imagine those vaugely remembered stern looks from the staff? Holding my breath until I turned purple and my ability to claw at and glue myself to available door jambs did not impress the nurses at all.

More times than I can count, I escaped in the confusion of trying to administer shots to 6 crying kids and ran screaming back into the waiting room (they soon learned to lock the door after we came in). In desperation, I hid under chairs, the table, where ever I could find a cubby hole to escape that impending needle.

Often, the doctors would finally just leave the examination room and give me the shot while I was under the chair. :(

Sometimes after I was caught, I'd barf....figuring, so it goes....that'll teach 'em.

I always lost the battle.

Oh, and the horrors of the dental visits?

~>>shiver<<~

Just think, similar experience.

Since that time much more than needle pricks have come my way, and at one point in my life I felt I had evolved so much I even decided to donate plasma for hemophiliacs! Months and months, maybe a year passed until one day I fainted. And, then barfed....sigh. That was the end of that.

My flu shot will be no big deal.

FYI..(I did a quick meditative check on that little girl inside me. Her heart beat is a little fast but she's not hyperventillating...yet.)

I just wonder if the docs in West Chester are prepared, perhaps, to see a grown woman trying to crouch under a chair.