Doc-athon

The immunization drive has begun. I didnae know until I went to sign the children up for school, but the DIL was one of the anti-immunization disciples and none of these 3 children have ever been immunized for ANYTHING. When the children were taken into protective custody, protecting her children from the evils of immunization was the right she defended at the most vocal level while her children were in foster care. The evolution of his passive "Yes, Dear" was among the last conversations my son and I shared. He didnae consider the battle worth estranging his children over, butttttttttaaaaaaaa. . . Yes Dear. Whatever you say, Dear. He took his marriage vows very seriously and was verily tortured by the need to choose between being a good husband and being a good father. To his mind, the two were one and the same and the conflict between the two roles was tearing him apart inside.

I don't go for every immunization that falls of the Big Pharma truck, but when I travel to foreign lands, I get the WHO reccommended immunizations for the region I am travelling to. The natural immunity process doesnae work at the speed of a jet liner. for either myself or the cultures I am visiting. When I sent my son off to Europe, he travelled with a complete shot record, including the immunizations recommended for Europe. He was travelling from one family home to another, but that far away living room was still full of local microdevils.

When The State became the managing conservator of the children during January's Permanency Hearing, the order to immunize was part of the court mandate. Baby Sis was the first of the trio to visit the pediatrician after the DIL's mandate was rescinded. I was crestfallen to discover that catch up would be a bear, even for her age of 12 months. Big Bro and Big Sis were in for an even longer haul. I let that drive fall through the cracks of this intense chaos which has coopted my "Golden Years." This Friday is the case review which, potentially, will move the case from the foster care desks to the adoption desks which will release the children from that State Conservatorship. The case manager wants to be able to show the judge action has commenced on the immunization drive. Done and doner. I volunteered to lead the mission drive. Yesterday was Big Bro's turn. It was a 6 shot visit, rapid fire, three shots in each thigh. He was a trooper. The doc said he would be okay going from there to school, but some exercise to keep those shots from lingingering in those thighs would be better. He went directly from the doctor's office to his newest game of "Biker Wars." He measures his "levels" by how many porch loops he makes. He's on "Level 92" with recent forrays into "Hacker Levels" where you ride your bike through the unpaved pastures.

Today is Big Sis's turn. She is a far more restrained soul, prone to sulky crying fits over action. I amnae at all confident she can handle a 6 shot visit. We see what grows. Baby Sis's turn is tomorrow. As I work my way through the marathon, I wonder anew if my medical phobia is more of a waiting room phobia. A pediatrics waiting room looks nearly identical to a geriatrics waiting room and all the medical subspecialties between those extremes. I might be more open to the prevailing wisdom of the age-related tests I am several decades behind on if there werenae so many waiting rituals attached. My Not-Working job sure does call for allot of volunteer waiting room time and arrogant assumptions that their time is more important than any Not-Working volunteer's time. No care for the caregivers.

Time for the school bell. It sure feels weird driving the school train before dawn. I'm not supposed to drive at night, but ya gots to do what ya gots to do.