Regardless of what Jenny McCarthy says, child immunizations do not cause autism. If they did, I’d be signing the boy up for every shot available. At least a diagnosis of Autism would help explain some of his behavior.
To be fair, he has finally given up his favorite accessory, the hanger. But, like adults with their vices, he has only replaced the one for another. At first, it was a drumstick. I enjoyed seeing him carry around the stick. I even had hopes of being able to teach him how to play the drums.
However, when I asked him if I could teach him how to play, he replied with, “I already know how to play the drums Dad.” When I asked him to prove it, he went into the band room and began hitting things. Touche son.
After an “incident” involving the aforementioned drumstick and his sister’s head, the musician lost his weapon and it was replaced with a stuffed animal. He still used it to hit his sister, but at least it didn’t cause welting.
Yesterday, I had to take Libby for her 18 month booster shots. If you’ve never had the pleasure of taking your child to get shots, be thankful. It’s a stressful, yet necessary, process. The good news is you get a sucker at the end.
The frustration begins when you realize that your insurance doesn’t cover vaccinations. And, even if it did, my local health department doesn’t accept insurance. Who the hell doesn’t accept medical insurance for medical services? Apparently, the health department. They called me to say that this year, they would begin accepting insurance. Well, thank you so damn much, but, you’re about three children and 42 vaccinations late.
After writing the check, they explain to me that my daughter will be receiving four shots. I’m no scientist (obviously), but it seems to me that we would have figured out how to combine all of these vaccinations into one shot by now. We’ve got money to throw around on studying duck penises (or is it peni?), but we still have to stab a baby four times? All those vaccines are going to be floating around in the body together soon enough, why not deliver it all in one blow?
Instead, you get to stand there holding your child’s torso down for the first shot and telling her it’s okay (that’s a lie) after she screams bloody murder. You know perfectly well it’s not okay, there are three more shots and two more lies on deck.
One of the hardest things for a parent to do is sit by and watch your child suffer. This becomes even harder when he or she is older and shoots you a look in the midst of the pain–a look that seems to say, “Why aren’t you stopping this?” It’s hard to explain to kids how that temporary suffering was meant to bring about long-term well-being.
Nevertheless, there are a couple of things you can do to help ease the pain of child immunizations. First off, baby Tylenol. Give your kid a dose before you leave. It will be the least painful thing put into their bloodstream that day. Secondly, stick a cork in it. Have a Sippy Cup ready after that last shot. Like a downtrodden alcoholic, my baby finds comfort in the bottle. Nothing stops those shrieks of pain like a nice glass of Vitamin D. Most importantly, dress your child in loose-fitting pants. The last thing you want is tight-fitting jeans trying to shimmy over those fresh leg wounds.
Stay strong parents.