That’s what I got today. Three shots. Two in my right arm and one in my left. Will someone please explain to me why I didn’t request to have two in my left and one in my right? I can’t lift my right arm. Help!

Mother and I spent three hours at the travel clinic today trying to (1) get a this-person-is-alive-and-can-walk form for my DTS application signed, (2) acquire some medicine to prevent/reduce the symptoms of altitude sickness, and (3) make sure I have all my immunizations in order for traveling to both Peru and Panama. Three hours. And all the people had to do was confirm I was a living person, order a prescription, and impale my arms multiple times. It shouldn’t have been that difficult. But, of course, the physician’s assistant we were assigned was quite chatty; unfortunately for me, her son had recently visited Peru, so she apparently felt compelled to share with me some of his adventures. And, naturally, the travel clinic could not access the Almighty Immunization Database to find out some detail about my shot record, and our “normal” doctor’s office (not that we ever go to the doctor except in cases such as these) would not answer their phone to supply us with the information. Mom ended up driving down to the other place herself to retrieve the necessary data.
Finally, when we were about to escape the endless cycle of waiting, listening, waiting, responding, and waiting, I passed out. Yup. I fainted. I had just gotten all three shots, and as the lady who wounded my arms was leaving she said I should sit there for a few minutes to make sure I didn’t get dizzy or something. Psh. Dizzy? I’ve gotten this many shots at least twice before and never had problems. And then, I got dizzy. And “came to” about 15 seconds later with mother, and the two doctorish people who had been detaining us for so long, looking down at me. It was weird. And annoying. I felt like some delicate, Elizabethan female. ugh. Oh, and I dreamt something during those 15 seconds, but I don’t remember what. In any case, from what the doctorish people said, apparently it wasn’t too shocking that I’d passed out, especially considering the amount of sleep I got last night (not much) and the fact that I was probably a bit dehydrated; they called it some sort of something-or-other reaction and said it usually happens to girls about my age. Go figure. Of course, I had to drink some water and not move for a while, but finally they released mother, me, and my poor, aching arms. And that was that. We left, after those exceedingly lengthy three hours, with the form signed, medicine prescribed, and shots gotten.

We came home; I cooked supper. We did some tying down of this and that to prepare for Hurricane Irene. And now I’m going to bed to catch up on sleep.



  1. Yes, I will comment. Immediately I thought of Grandpa. Whenever he went in to the “nurses’ station” for a physical, blood to be drawn or a shot, the nurses always had him lie down because they had seen him before and knew he would “faint” at the sight of a needle. He was such a good patient for me because I wasn’t giving him needles, I guess–just feeding tube manipulation.
    Well, you’ve done it all by now; it’s all in the past. Sleep tight tonight–sweet dreams.

  2. Oh my goodness!! What an interesting day you had. Hope after a good night’s sleep you’ll be back to normal. We’re keeping an eye on Irene too for you. Love, G.L.

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