It’s that time of year again. Early fall and time for Teague’s annual check-up. The three girls have summer birthdays, but Teague’s mid-September birth puts us right on the cusp: some years, we schedule early enough to miss it and others, we are just in time. This year, we hit it right on the nose: flu shots had arrived.
My ambivalence towards the flu shot is evident from my children’s medical records. There are years when all three got the shot, years when no one got the shot, and years when the one who happened to be at the office got the shot. However, I suspected that this year might be different. Our new pediatrician happens to also be my neighbor. Although not as convenient as the kids assumed it would be when they believed we could now walk down our driveway to appointments, it brings me great peace of mind to have a professional so close. But now my flu shot indecision would be exposed. And I was quite confident avoidance would not be an option.
I double-upped on appointments: Teague’s seven-year and Jase’s two-month check-ups. I arrived with all four kids. When my five-year-old Reese asked if Teague and Jase would be getting shots. I gave my standard disclaimer, “I don’t know, we’ll have to see,” while dreading the inevitable.
The doctor asked, “Have they had their flu shots yet?” as she perused their files. She commented on the irregularity of their flu shot history and added, “Well, since you’re all here, why don’t we just take care it today?” And here we go…
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