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The Capsule that Cares: Musings on Immunization

Monday, August 7th, 2006

At the moment, I am looking at a pamphlet entitled “Vaccine in a Capsule.” On the cover of said pamphlet, there is a capsule. The capsule is sitting on top of a refrigerator with its legs, yes, its legs, hanging over the side. The capsule’s arms, you heard me right, are outstretched as if to say “let’s get vaccinated! Come on down!” The capsule, or is that Mr. Capsule to me, is smiling and it (he?) has googley eyes. Oh, and he’s wearing white gloves — you know, to be sterile.

“Mr. Capsule” is only one of several vaccines I took today. He’ll protect me from Typhoid. The others (although not personified) will protect me from Yellow Fever and Hepatitis A. Woot.

I traveled over to the Public Health Building down by the Civic Center where there is an Adult Immunization and Travel Clinic. When I arrived, I filled out some forms and was told that I should eat something so that I wouldn’t be getting my immunizations on an empty stomach. They sent me upstairs to a very small, teachers-lounge-esque, quite depressing little cafe which, although located in the San Francisco Public Health building, served only particularly fattening foods. Go figure.

So I spent the next hour trying to eat my incredibly large chocolate croissant while being lectured on horrible diseases and how to prevent getting them by a very nice and quite pretty nurse. I’m glad she sent me away with a lot of reading material because instead of listening to her, I spent the whole time worrying if it was rude that I was eating while she was talking — but she did tell me to do it — so — if it was rude, it’s her fault really.

Behind my nice and pretty nurse, there was a picture of a little raccoon. He was incredibly cute until my nurse started talking to me about how rabies is 100% fatal and if any animals lick or bite you, basically you’ll die if you don’t fly yourself to a hospital immediately. The raccoon stopped being cute very quickly and I started thinking that the picture placement at the Adult Immunization and Travel Clinic was more than a little manipulative and perhaps even morbid.

So that was my day. Now I just have to decide if I want to take the Malaria pills that might make you go crazy, the ones that will cost almost a thousand dollars, or the ones that will make me incredibly sensitive to the sun, give me yeast infections, diarrhea, bouts of vomiting, and a fever. I think I’m going with option C. Thoughts?

-Sarah

Phlebotomy schlebotomy

Saturday, August 5th, 2006

I got poked today. So the doctor could test my blood. I don’t fully understand the reason behind it, but I feel super accomplished. And maybe a little faint.

This was the first step towards getting vaccinated against those tropical diseases that we northerners find so troubling. Well, actually, the 3rd step. First, I called the travel hotline of my insurance carrier, where I was transferred to a chatty fellow who told me about driving down to Mexico in a van and partying on deserted beaches. After reminiscing about some girl and telling me what he’d do if he were my age, he took down my itinerary information. This took my whole lunch hour. About 45 minutes later, in my cubicle, I got a call from Anne the travel nurse, who again took my itinerary information and asked me several personal questions that you really don’t want to answer from a cubicle. It is a testament to my powers of obfuscation that I was able to conduct this entire conversation without alerting the office to my travel plans. (I have not yet given my notice, so this is a concern. Don’t tell.) She directed me to the lab, where I was poked. My blood will be tested for things like Hepatitis and Measles. Don’t ask me why. I just do what I’m told. Hopefully, on the 14th, I will receive my actual vaccinations, some antibiotics, anti-malarial drugs, and maybe a lollipop. There was no lollipop today.

Fun fact: the people who take your blood are called phlebotomists. Yes, phlebotomists. This is the funniest blood-related word I know.

-Megan