As you may already know, we have 12864976165398 pieces of stuff in our lives. And I am still cramming it all into brightly colored bins, labeled "kitchen stuff," "living room stuff," "bedroom stuff," and "stuff stuff."
So distract me from all this stuff, I recently decided to move on to the next item of my to do list. Shots. No, not the kind where you get to pour on a little salt and suck on a lime afterwards.
Vaccination shots. The kind where you psyche yourself out before hand because somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind you established that you don't like needles, avoid having blood drawn (sorry, Red Cross), and dislike anything related to the formalized care of your well being. You turn into a nervous wreck at the thought of having to organize this tiny detail of your life. Major moves across the ocean you can handle, but needles, no way. Or, maybe that's just me.
However, being the consummate planner that I am, I did a little research to prepare myself for what kinds of shots I need for travel to China. Looks like typhoid, hepatitis A and do I really need to bring malaria pills? Then I got distracted by season 4 of the Wire. Spoiler Alert -- Oh, how I miss Stringer Bell.
OK, 3 hours later (I can never watch just one episode!)...I called the nurse at my health care facility:
Me: I would like to schedule an appointment for, I mean, I am traveling to China in a few weeks, and I...
Nurse: Do you have your immunization records from when you were a child? When was the last time you had a tetanus booster?
Me: Uh. Hmmm. That's an interesting question. You see I moved around a lot...Tetanus?
Nurse: Well, call your pediatrician. You need a tetanus booster every ten years.
I hang up and call my pediatrician's office.
Me: I would like to have a copy of my immunization records sent to me. (Thinking to myself again, tetanus?)
Nurse: Well, you'd have to call your pediatrician's office.
Me: I thought this was my pediatrician.
Nurse: Ma'am, this is internal medicine.
Me: Oh, well, do you have my records?
Nurse: No.
Me: Reciting mantra in my mind.
At this point I channel the great wise words of a three year old I know. One day, on her way to the dentist's office (which, by the way, is another social norm that tests my psyche), this particular three-year-old turned to her mother and unsolicited said, "There is no reason to cry, so I will not cry." After I was told this story I wrote down the words on a post-it note and stuck it to my computer. I am not joking. This is perfect advice for me. True. Straightforward. Sound. Logical advice.
Me: Reciting mantra while thanking the nurse for not being able to help me.
I then proceed to contact my undergrad's health services. Surely I would have had to provide evidence that I wasn't a health threat to 2,000 fellow freshmen. I learn that I graduated so long ago that they keep those files in a warehouse off campus and that it could take weeks for them to find the information.
Alright, well more recently my grad school's health services must have these elusive records.
Me: Hello, I would like to have a copy of my...
Health Services Employee: When did you graduate?
Me: 2004
HSE: Oh. That was the last year we did not require proof of your immunization records. We wouldn't have anything on file for you.
Me: Mantra. Mantra. Mantra...
I call my current health care folks again. We schedule an appointment. Yes, she insists that I get a tetanus shot, and no I don't need to bring malaria pills with me since we won't be skipping around the countryside. And the actual needles don't really hurt because the entire time I am reciting the mantra in my mind. Maybe I let it slip out loud for a moment, and the nurse thinks I am a bit strange. But the truth is, I am.
So when it comes to my health care, I may still possess the anxiety of a three-year-old on her way to the dentist, but I also have the strength of a three-year-old with an uncompromising perspective on life. There is no reason to cry, so I will not cry.
So distract me from all this stuff, I recently decided to move on to the next item of my to do list. Shots. No, not the kind where you get to pour on a little salt and suck on a lime afterwards.
Vaccination shots. The kind where you psyche yourself out before hand because somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind you established that you don't like needles, avoid having blood drawn (sorry, Red Cross), and dislike anything related to the formalized care of your well being. You turn into a nervous wreck at the thought of having to organize this tiny detail of your life. Major moves across the ocean you can handle, but needles, no way. Or, maybe that's just me.
However, being the consummate planner that I am, I did a little research to prepare myself for what kinds of shots I need for travel to China. Looks like typhoid, hepatitis A and do I really need to bring malaria pills? Then I got distracted by season 4 of the Wire. Spoiler Alert -- Oh, how I miss Stringer Bell.
OK, 3 hours later (I can never watch just one episode!)...I called the nurse at my health care facility:
Me: I would like to schedule an appointment for, I mean, I am traveling to China in a few weeks, and I...
Nurse: Do you have your immunization records from when you were a child? When was the last time you had a tetanus booster?
Me: Uh. Hmmm. That's an interesting question. You see I moved around a lot...Tetanus?
Nurse: Well, call your pediatrician. You need a tetanus booster every ten years.
I hang up and call my pediatrician's office.
Me: I would like to have a copy of my immunization records sent to me. (Thinking to myself again, tetanus?)
Nurse: Well, you'd have to call your pediatrician's office.
Me: I thought this was my pediatrician.
Nurse: Ma'am, this is internal medicine.
Me: Oh, well, do you have my records?
Nurse: No.
Me: Reciting mantra in my mind.
At this point I channel the great wise words of a three year old I know. One day, on her way to the dentist's office (which, by the way, is another social norm that tests my psyche), this particular three-year-old turned to her mother and unsolicited said, "There is no reason to cry, so I will not cry." After I was told this story I wrote down the words on a post-it note and stuck it to my computer. I am not joking. This is perfect advice for me. True. Straightforward. Sound. Logical advice.
Me: Reciting mantra while thanking the nurse for not being able to help me.
I then proceed to contact my undergrad's health services. Surely I would have had to provide evidence that I wasn't a health threat to 2,000 fellow freshmen. I learn that I graduated so long ago that they keep those files in a warehouse off campus and that it could take weeks for them to find the information.
Alright, well more recently my grad school's health services must have these elusive records.
Me: Hello, I would like to have a copy of my...
Health Services Employee: When did you graduate?
Me: 2004
HSE: Oh. That was the last year we did not require proof of your immunization records. We wouldn't have anything on file for you.
Me: Mantra. Mantra. Mantra...
I call my current health care folks again. We schedule an appointment. Yes, she insists that I get a tetanus shot, and no I don't need to bring malaria pills with me since we won't be skipping around the countryside. And the actual needles don't really hurt because the entire time I am reciting the mantra in my mind. Maybe I let it slip out loud for a moment, and the nurse thinks I am a bit strange. But the truth is, I am.
So when it comes to my health care, I may still possess the anxiety of a three-year-old on her way to the dentist, but I also have the strength of a three-year-old with an uncompromising perspective on life. There is no reason to cry, so I will not cry.
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