by kpmautner

Finally got all my shots for the projected trip!  The Hepatitis A shot was nothing (I’m an 11-gallon blood donor so far, so the tiny little shot needles don’t bother me much).  I had a choice between oral and injected typhoid vaccine and opted for the shot (get it over with quickly, rather than a week’s worth of pills …) The typhoid shot was as I remembered – nothing at first, then a sore arm for a couple of days.  But that too went away, and here I am, all shot up.   Which brings a trip down Memory Lane:

We grew up in the Foreign Service.

Uganda 1964

We therefore did a lot of travelling, and rapidly came to the conclusion that going anywhere meant getting an array of shots (like yellow fever, cholera, typhoid, typhus, etc.).  There was one lovely time that I remember in detail.  We were in line at some clinic awaiting our turns.  We were in the 6,5 and 4 year-old range or close to.  So Mother had 3 little ones in tow, standing in line for a kid’s least-favorite experience – shots.  We had been bribed with an offer of ice cream if we behaved and did not make a fuss or otherwise disgrace ourselves. Directly in front of us in the line was this big old guy, a sailor.  He must have been all of 19 or so, but definitely old.

Anyway, we’re waiting reasonably quietly as the nurse walks up to the big guy with his syringe.  He takes one look and is promptly flat on the floor.  Being practical, the nurse gives him his shot while he’s down and helpless, and then waits until he revives before shooting the three of us.  We, having been bribed and being experienced with shots, whimper a little but make no other fuss.

Mother smirked.  We got our ice cream.