Autism : vaccination, part one

The day did not start off well.

Firstly, I drove to the allocated business park only to discover that the Eircode (post/zip code) I’d been given was for the whole industrial estate, not a specific building. I knew I was looking for Unit 217, but none of the gazillion units had any numbers on them.

Asking for directions didn’t help at all.

I was becoming a bit desperate. We had been given a very specific time, and now I was going to be late.

I spotted someone I thought I recognised, and leapt out the car to ask him where I was supposed to be. Et voilà! I had found it. I saw faces I knew, and was guided into an appropriate parking space.

Secondly, when asked to hand over the relevant forms, I couldn’t find them in my handbag (even though I knew I’d put them in my bag last night), so I had to apologise and fill them out again.

So far, so embarrassing.

We waited in the car until we were called, and we went into the building.

Mistake the third: I’d left our *&#€”@* masks in the car.

Not a problem, said the very helpful nurse, and masks appeared for us to wear.

Ian sat in the big brown chair with his arm bared while I squatted in front of him, resting my hands gently on his arms. The nurse was very quick, and almost before we knew what was happening, the needle was in Ian’s left arm.

He shot to the right – almost out the seat – and the nurse was left holding the syringe and wondering where her patient was.

We tried again. Nope. The minute the needle went in, Ian dodged.

Okay. Time for some reassurance.

I spoke gently to Ian, and then the nurse said “I only have to count to three, and then it will be done. One, two, three.”

“Try three, two, one,” I suggested.

Ian was listening. ‘Three, two, one’ is no time at all. At the dentist, the count starts from twenty …!

Although he twitched while the nurse injected him, Ian sat like a champion. She quickly counted backwards from three, and the job was done.

Thank you all so much for your thoughts, prayers, and good wishes. Ian did really, really well, and I’m sure you would have been as proud of him as I was.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s