I've been shot!

Twice.

And I paid for the privilege.


Guess that means that it was the flu and H1N1 shots and not gun-shots, huh?

It's something I've put off, well, since the fall. Always with a good excuse: I don't want to do it when I'm medicating, I don't want to do it during the two week wait, and so on and so on. But now that I'm honest to God pregnant, DH has been on me about getting it taken care of, and I had told him I would do it yesterday, but couldn't thanks to a short work-day because of taking my time getting into work due to our mini-blizzard of the morning. He was kind enough to give me a pass for one day, but I knew I was just going to hear more about it until I took care of it.

So I adjusted my big-girl panties just before lunch and called a place near my office which administers immunizations and such for international travel, but which I was recently reminded also does the flu shots, and the nice nurse there was able to fit me in right away, so off I went.

Turns out that after doing cycles and cycles of injectables, getting the flu shots(!) really wasn't that bad. Or maybe it's just because the nurse has had so much practice...their clinic (of sorts) has the William & Mary student health immunization contract, so she's done literally thousands of these shots just this year alone. And she's been giving shots for 30 years, so...loads of experience.

She was also very informative about making sure DH has had his TDAP (tetanus/diphtheria/pertussis) shot before the baby arrives (I apparently get one as a going away present before I leave the hospital regardless of how recently I have had one*) as pertussis in adults is becoming more common, and that he, I and the grandparents (and anyone else who may have regular contact with the baby) get next years flu shots as soon as they come out in September. And as a final bit of information she wanted me to be aware that there was an alternate immunization schedule for babies & children - definitely promoting the immunizations but on a slower track. I'll keep that in mind to follow up on in a few months when I stop obsessing over cribs and start thinking about pediatricians. Oy!





*I believe it was December 2006. or 2005. It was before I started blogging.

You really want the story? Okay. Consider my arm twisted... but I'm warning you, it's not for the faint of stomach.




I nipped myself with pruning clippers while putting lights on one of the Japanese maples in front of our house. I went to hold a branch and apparently my finger got in the way. Blood. Lots of blood. Almost passing out at home, getting calmed down enough for DH to drive me to a Doc-In-The-Box (DITB) for treatment. Nurse trying to figure out how to both rinse and put pressure on a cut on the inner side of a finger. Back to the blood. Telling the Doc in a panicked voice that he needed to get my feet up. Doc putting me off. Doc learning his lesson about not listening to me. They got a exam room that smelled of vomit - I got to leave with my finger quickly super-glued together and a shirt covered in vomit, and now a cute little scar on my finger. DH laughed at both me and the Doc. It was special. The end.