Immunizations: Then & Now

Pinehurst: Shots

Does anyone remember lining up for "Shots" - these were not gun shots, and not drink shots, but immunization shots. Everyone who was due for their shots were lined up and herded to the nurses office. There the nurse or two and a doctor would be waiting with huge hypodermic needles long enough to stick "clear through" a grade-schooler's arm. Some kids would start whimpering along the way, other's would wait until it was their turn, and pass out.

I noticed early on that a lot of kids dreaded those shots. I didn't. To me it was no big deal - a little pin prick, a band-aid, and it was over. I must have felt badly for the scared kids - especially the boys. They weren't supposed to cry or faint, but some of them did. I don't know when I started, but I would volunteer to go first. FIRST!

Some of the guys ahead of me would sigh "Relief" - because they didn't have to set the example for the rest of the class. It was the only time I was heroic. I'm not sure that anyone else saw it that way, but I figured if I went first, and said, "There's nothing to it." It would embolden the boys - after all, I was just a girl. It would also put me through first, so I wouldn't be there to witness the tears and fainting of any classmates who followed. (Especially the boys.)

Now-a-days, they don't give immunizations at school. I'm not sure why. Maybe they had to stop when they had to give up corporal punishment. Maybe it wasn't allowed, because it humiliated some of the kids and adults were no longer allowed to do that. Maybe the doctors got greedy, and decided it was best for them to charge an office visit and mega-bucks for each shot. The kids could come to them instead of them taking a day to hang out at the school for hours shooting hundreds of frightened, whiny kids.

Maybe they stopped because of the "free" immunizations clinics that sprung up all over in the '70s with the planned parenting freebies. Now, instead of a doctor doing "school" calls, he could let the kids come to him with their parents and all their siblings to get their booster shots. Now the parents could deal with their own kids passing out and crying. No more humiliation in front of their peers. No more nurses trying to drag the children close to the doctor. No more red eyes in the classroom. . .

Instead, the parents are humiliated. Have you ever gone to a county clinic for "free" shots? The worst one I ever went to was in California - San Bernadino County. I can't remember where it was located, but there must have been 30 people - mostly women and children, stuffed into a warm room about 10' x 15' all waiting for hours to see the doctor.

Now when mom's take their child to get an immunization, they have to drag along all the other babies and pre-schoolers in the family. This place was packed with crying, screeching, yelling kids. I thought I would lose my mind. I only had 2 with me; the under 1 yr old shot-ee and her 3 yr old sister. I checked us in, and looked for a seat. There were a few seats filled with people and stuff. There were bodies everywhere, and no place for an adult to sit down. Finally, someone got up to go to the back, and I was able to secure one chair for the 3 of us.

I am not fond of my kids playing on the floor of a public place with a hundred other snotty nosed children. We came to prevent disease, not to pick it up, but the odds were against us. I mean, there were kids drooling and sneezing and wiping their noses on anything available, then touching, touching, touching everything and everyone within reach. I tried to keep my two as close to me as possible in the over heated room. (There should have been air-conditioning, but either it wasn't working - or the combined bodies with all their BTUs stuffed into such a small space was over powering the system.) It was sticky and fragrant, but not in a good way.

We waited and we waited. More people came, but no one left. I think the doctor and nurses had all gone to a leisurely lunch at a posh restaurant with great air-conditioning and quiet ambiance. They were sipping on cool drinks and taking small bites of gourmet cuisine and chewing and chewing and chewing each bite. I went up to the little window and asked, "How much longer?"

"You'll just have to wait your turn."

Fortunately, the girls had held my seat. I sat down and let them wallow on my lap. It was hot. I was tired. No one was moving out. More people were coming in. Finally, one large family went back, and others quickly scooped up their territory. And we waited.

We were there about an hour and a half before we were called back for the 5 minute procedure. Why did it take sooooo long? I had a migraine, and I determined then and there - that I would NEVER, EVER, go to a public immunization clinic again.

I was so determined to avoid that place, that my youngest got behind in her immunizations. I even had a doctor chew me out when I went to catch her up before vacation. I don't know why some people chew you out - after you have decided to do the right thing. I mean, I was there, in his office for her to get her shots, and he's chewing me out! So, we got her boosters, and I changed doctors. From that time on - I avoided the clinics. . .until we moved to Idaho. At least the clinic here is spacious, and you can't get lost in the crowd. The wait is only about a half-hour, and they don't chew you out for coming. Regardless, most of the immunizations we have obtained have been in a private doctor's office. Sure, they charge a lot more than a clinic, but we are paying for the ambiance.

Pinehurst: Fifth Grade (1)

Old Lady Vitamin Pill

When I was in the fifth grade at Pinehurst school, our classes were held in the Annex on the South side of the school. The annex was the newest building at the school. It contained 4 classrooms, a girls' bathroom and boys' bathroom. The fifth grade consisted of 3 classes, and the fourth room was used by the Jr. High.

My fifth grade teacher was Mrs. Allman - who was referred to by the older kids as "Old Lady Vitamin Pill." Apparently a few years prior to my stint in grade 5, OLVP would give each of her students a "One-A-Day" vitamin pill each morning. Now this was in the days long before school offered breakfast to students from low-income families, and I imagine she was just doing her part to help the students to succeed in school. However, as an adult with grown children, it is "chilling" to think that a teacher, no matter what her intentions, could give each student a pill before class every day. Added to the fact that in those days, the schools employed full-time nurses who were able to administer drugs legally, the thought of a single teacher taking on the dispension of pills to kids is rather "bizarre."

However, by the time I was admitted to her class, the practice had stopped. There had been a law passed that made it illegal for anyone, including the nurse to dispense as much as an aspirin without parental permission. This was a great move, as parents who have abandoned the rearing of children to the state, did not forsake the responsibility to care for their children's health. (But I pontificate.)

Mrs. Allman was not an impressive teacher. She was old, very thin, pale, and dyed her stringy hair a dark brown. Her clothes were nondescript dresses of a matronly style and color. She seemed nice, and probably liked me, as most of my teachers did, but I don't remember anything distinctive about the class - except for learning the state capitals and the first paragraph of the Gettysburg address.


"Dizzy Spells"

Perhaps it was because I was changing. My body was growing in new ways, and I was beginning to notice boys more. Not just one or two, but many nice looking young bucks. One sat behind me most of the year, who was quite nice looking, and may have liked the way I looked a bit also.

I had some screwy ideas about boys and how they thought about girls and the whole notion of sex - that I prefer not to mention here. Suffice to say, a friend of mine and I had concocted a whole explanation from bits and pieces we had heard and seen. It would be laughable, except that neither of us ever learned the truth about our "theory" until years later when other bits and pieces we learned contradicted what we first believed. Sad that our mothers lived in a time where what is natural had been deemed nasty - and they were never comfortable to speak of things to come.

However, there is another explanation for why I may not remember much of my fifth grade year: the "dizzy spells" as I called it. I started having strange sensations of acute self-awareness coupled with impending doom. In the course of the ordinary, I would suddenly feel disembodied, as though I was an observer as well as a participant in life. I could disassociate myself from me, and yet feel trapped in time and place with a heightened sense of needing to escape.

It was as if my mind belonged to a higher order of being, and didn't want to be trapped in a 10 yr. old body locked in that classroom at that time, studying insipid books. I became claustrophobic and terrified. I had to get out of there and fast! The only way I could cope was to put my head down. On more than one occasion, I would get down on my hands and knees, because I felt like I was going to pass out or die on the spot. Usually, I would end up going home, unless my Mom was working - which was most of the time, then I would be taken to the nurses office to lie down.

As soon as the strange feelings left, I felt stupid. My mom thought I was faking it. She took me to the doctor who said there was nothing physically wrong with me. (Physically there wasn't. . .but physiologically there was - I was having panic attacks.)

In those days, doctors didn't know about panic attacks. They might have suspected "mental illness" - but in all other ways, I was a normal kid. I didn't act out, didn't display anti-social behavior, in fact, I was a model child who tried to please my parents and teachers. There was no logical explanation at that time for my behavior. My mom thought it was a ruse and I thought I was dying.

Fortunately, I had a lot of ear infections that year also, and one of the doctors said I had some kind of allergy, as he found boils in my ears. As a result, he also said that it could be the cause of the "dizzy spells." This alleviated my mother's accusations that I was "faking it" and she apologized for not believing me. It calmed my fears, as I no longer believed that what was happening to me was fatal.

Regardless, all of this uproar, was a huge distraction my entire fifth grade year. No wonder I don't remember much about the classroom than the "dizzy spells."