I’m a wimp.
A couple weeks ago at work, there was an email with information about flu shots. If my school had enough people sign up, a nurse would come to school and give the injections there. Just show up with your insurance card, fill out a form, and BAM.. A flu shot was yours for the taking. I didn’t sign up. I hate shots. I know, I know, I have had diabetes for the last 31 years. I have taken thousands of injections and have been inserting pump sets for the last 12 years. But I hate, even more than that… I abhor shots. Especially when I don’t give them myself. I have had one flu shot in my life. I think I was about 13 years old when I got it. I’m sure that the doctor bullied me into getting it, and I’m sure that my mom was along and insisted that I get it. I remember that it hurt, so I didn’t sign up. Then another email came. My school was a couple people short in the sign up. Other teachers were asking me if I signed up. They told me that I “…really should get one because, you know, you have diabetes.” So I signed up, fully intending to back out at the last minute.
At the end of the school day today, I quickly packed my stuff up, grabbed Dixie’s leash, and put my jacket on. The door opened. The school nurse who works in my building came in. She said that she knew I was anxious about the shot (because she had overheard me complaining in the teacher’s lounge one day) and came to school just to make sure that I was o.k. Shoot. Now I couldn’t leave. This nice woman drove all the way to this school that she only works at on Tuesdays, just to check on me. I got my insurance card. She told me that she would go and get the release form, and I could just fill it out in my class. I filled it out. She walked with me to hand the form to the other nurse. They told me to sit in the chair with my back to the nurse. No way! I said that I needed to see the shot happen, and see the needle. I was feeling faint. I was talking to myself. “Get a grip Molly! It’s just a shot.” I rolled up my sleeve. I was feeling lightheaded. I started sweating. I held hands with my nurse and another teacher. The woman gave the injection in my arm. It didn’t hurt that much. But I cried anyway. Cried from fear, from apprehension, and from the loss of control that I felt. Dixie put her head on my lap and looked at me with her brown eyes. I stroked her head and took a deep breath. I walked back to my class and got my things to go home.
It’s over. I hope that I don’t get the flu. ☺