So I told you yesterday about my early morning attempt to get Beans vaccinated against H1N1 – and about how that attempt failed.
Later in the day, Cindy (of Mom on a Wire) told me the line at Dickey-Stephens was moving fast, and I decided to load everyone up and try again.
Unfortunately, I had to wait for Tallulah to wake up, and then I had to pull over and feed her (I knew she would be hungry soon, but I thought maybe I could hold her off until we got through a five minute wait … dumb move on my part.). By the time we made it there all the teachers in town (OK, maybe not alllll…) were there with their kids and the wait time had multiplied.
The rain was coming down, but I thought, we’re here, and we can see the vaccination tent. We’re staying.
I was lucky. Beans didn’t mind the rain or the wait. He spent most of our wait time catching the drips from umbrellas and standing in puddles until the water soaked through his shoes. Tallulah, too, was happy as a clam, wrapped in a blanket in my arms where she could easily survey all the goings-on and enjoy the admiring glances of those around her, although my arms grew weary as I held her and the umbrella, too.
A very nice North Little Rock elementary school principal (Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mrs. Logan!) offered to hold Tallulah or my umbrella and she loaned me her pen so I could fill out the required form while we stood in line. (I wondered why the Health Department couldn’t have made those forms available on their web site so we could have printed them out and filled them in in the comfort of our own dry homes, but I supposed there was probably a reason.)
I felt bad, though, for the people who had to fill out forms for two or three kids (or more), and I felt reeaallly bad for the man who had to fill out three forms for three little boys under 3 – all while making sure they didn’t race in front of one of the cars moving through the line right next to us. (Yeah, those cars filled with adults who could roll through and get their shots without getting a drop of rain on anything above the shoulder…)
A bunch of us were directed from the open air to a tent when the rain started coming down harder so we might be able to stay a bit dryer, which was nice. But then my heart filled with dread as I saw a Health Department worker counting heads as she moved toward our part of the group. Beans was number 13, and there were only 30 H1N1 vaccines left. We cut it close, no?! (That was around the time we heard another Health Department worker say the clinic would be shut down when those were gone because bad weather was headed our way. What? we wondered. Are we about to be wiped out by a tornado? Well, at least we will have gotten our kids vaccinated before we’re hit.)
There was some confusion when it was our turn in line. I asked if he would get the nasal spray or the shot and I was told that he would be given the spray, I think so the injections could be saved for the kids who weren’t eligible for the spray. We were all set to move to one tent for the spray when we were suddenly sent to another tent, and that’s where I was told Beans couldn’t have the spray because he had had the seasonal FluMist less than 30 days earlier. Geesh. I don’t know what the danger is of having live vaccinations too close together might be, but I’m glad we were moved at the last minute if he was going to be given something that could have hurt him.
I had a proud mama moment when Beans was told he would have to get a “stick” instead of the spray he had expected. He stuck his arm out and helped the nurse push up his sleeve, and when she gave him the shot he did not even flinch.
I high-fived my little man and the three of us ran off to the dry warmth of our car. A few minutes later we were in another line – this one for some hot chocolate to enjoy on the drive home.
Now, any guesses what we’ll have to go through to get the required boosters?