DRAMA at the immunisation clinic

First I didn't believe in Swine Flu.  Then Swift Jan got it.

Then I decided I didn't believe we needed the swine flu vaccination.  Then my Mum said (of swine flu), "I don't want to get it."  And I realised the wisdom in her not getting it, me not getting it, Mr de Elba not getting it, and the children not getting it.

So we decided that getting a free vaccination to save us from a Swine Flu Plague similar to the de Elba Plague of June 2009 would be wise.

If you believe it's unwise to get the vaccination and we're all quite silly, I would be nearly prepared to agree with you.  Except that some people get very sick, and we don't do 'sick' all that well.  We learned from the ElbaPlague that we do 'sick' in a big way and all together, with the sick mother usually as nursemaid.  Nuh-uh.  I will avoid that if I can.

I was mildly perturbed at the thought of Nat getting a bit cranky having to have a needle, but I thought, "Mr de Elba will be with me.  What's the worst that can happen?"

Yes, Mr de Elba was with me.  But.

The worst that can happen turned out to be the most major screaming meltdown that my mature, helpful, nearly-5-year-old boy could muster.  Imagine a child with a full-blown kicking, screaming phobia of needles, at the immunisation clinic, getting a needle.

"Stop it!  I don't like it!  I hate needles!  Don't do it to me!  Don't give me a needle!  I'M ALLERGIC TO NEEDLES!!!" he screamed, acting more frightened than I've ever seen him.

This from the boy who put his sister's nappy and pyjamas on tonight after her bath when her parents were being a little tardy getting three children ready for bed.

He went completely nuts.  "I-don't-want-him-to-get-Swine-Flu-I-don't-want-him-to-get-Swine-Flu..." I repeated in response to my desire not to go through with the whole thing.

I wasn't much help for Mr de Elba as he tried to restrain Nat.  I was required to fill out 5 long and complex forms which first they told me had to be done before we started, then they told me I could bring in with me to complete while various of my loved ones were getting jabbed.  I couldn't do it with Joseph trying to eat the paper so I let the nurse put him on the change mat but this was little help as she was then required to restrain Nat and halted my progress on the forms by insisting I put my hand on Joseph's tummy to stop him from - I don't know - flying off the change mat or something (don't these people ever HAVE children of their own?  What was the change mat FOR if not to leave a child on while other things needed to be done?  For crying out loud woman.) 

I was also trying to keep Anna-Lucia from witnessing the disgraceful display by her brother but that was impossible - everyone for three blocks could have heard it.  We were all in the same tiny, hot claustrophobic room after the nurses persuaded us to all come in together despite my clever suggestion that Mr de E and Nat went first then I take the little ones later.  I got pretty mad when they said that perhaps we could have done the children separately, as if it had been their idea and I was really quite foolish to have brought all five of us into the room at once. 

Yeah right, that was my idea because I'm dumb like that.

The straw that broke the camel's back for me was when they looked at Anna-Lucia and suggested that I "put Katherine on my lap."  I don't know why this mere confusion over names angered me more than the complete lack of foresight and planning regarding the method and order of jabbing two adults and three small children, but all it did was make me mad.

She cried too, mostly from the sheer terror of going through the same thing that made her big brother go so completely nutzoid.  And seeing her cry made Nat go completely nutzoid all over again.  Which made her cry so hard she couldn't eat her chocolate treat which had been returned to her after being so helpfully taken off her at the start of her turn by the nurse who snatched it out of her hand muttering something about "...she might inhale..." 

Seriously where do they get these people?

And then, when it was all over and I was sitting there finishing off the last details on the final one of the five stupid forms, one of the nurses delivered the final blow.

"Now," she said smiling, "you can come back for the next dose on 10 March."

"WHAT?!?" I didn't-quite-scream.

"YOUNEVERTOLDMETHEREWERETWODOSES!" I said.

"IHADNOIDEAWE'DBEGOINGTHROUGHTHISRIDICULOUSCHARADE ANOTHERTIME -breathe- ANDQUITEFRANKLYIAMCOMPLETELYUNWILLINGTOPROMISEIWILLBE BACKONTHETENTHOFWHATEVERITWASTOFACEUPFORANOTHER INSTALMENTOFTHISDISORGANISEDABSURDITY!!"

And with that we left.

Yep, it was truly DRAMA at the immunisation clinic, and something tells me that there will be more drama to come. 

But that will be nothing compared to the drama that will ensue if the vaccination does not, in fact, protect us from Swine Flu and we all get it.