Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Run Linda Run

Okay so I couldn't wait to tell you this one.

By the time I was 4, I had been to see Dr. Ferguson a bazillion times. He was a nice man, he was a handsome man (I think my Mom had a crush on him), he was a stern, straight laced, god fearing man and I always thought he had a hard on for giving shots. Oops, shame on my name. Anyway, no matter what was wrong with me....there it came....the dreaded syringe filled with (what I know now to have been poison to my system) antibiotics, flu shots, vitamin shots, what the hell ever shots. You must keep in mind, I grew up in the rootin tootin wild west 1950's. Where polio, rubella, hard measles, small pox, chicken pox and mumps took the lives of children every year. Not to mention strep, pneumonia and goodness knows what else.

I can remember standing in a line with hundreds of other kids and getting sugar cubes with polio concoction on it, flu shots taken directly from eggs and then injected into your arm, small pox vaccinations where they poked you a thousand times after they had dropped the liquid on your arm. Ouch. Some folks may call the 1950's the good old days but huh?

So one lovely autumn day, when I had a sore throat, my Mother took me to Doc's office. His nurse Pearl (he also had one named Opal) took us into the room and told us Doc would be right with us. I asked her if I was going to have to get a shot. She said yes, probably. Well, I had just had it with this "abuse" and while my Mom and Pearl were chatting, I took the keys to the '53 Chevy sedan we had come in and made for the front door. Ran to the car and locked myself and the keys in. "Ha", says I. My Mom could take the shot for me.

Well, it wasn't too long until a very angry mob of adults showed up at the car and demanded that I open the door. Nope says I, you can't make me. I have no idea how I thought I would get away with it. After some convincing by Doc that I should just come out before I really got anyone any angrier (yeah, like I didn't know when my Mother got me alone that I was chopped liver). I opened the door, was carried back to the office, given a shot and sent home. Yep, my Mom used the fly swatter on me and sent me to bed.

I know that this next part was not a plot, honest, but in a few weeks I had to have surgery to take out the offending tonsils. I really thought that was my punishment for having locked myself in the car and didn't do it again. But I also never trusted the doctor again either. When I woke from surgery, I whispered to the nurse...looks like as many people standing around in here I could get some ice, at least that's how the story goes. I often wonder who that kid was. The one with the attitude and confidence to stand up to tyranny cuz I don't ever remember feeling that bravado or swagger. Maybe my Mom just told the stories that way.

Now you pan to the present and I have two of those beasties living in my house. Full of themselves, confident and sometimes a bit rotten. Yeah. Rock on beasties. I'll just keep the keys out of reach.


  1. No one likes to get shots, especially when you are young. I too remember standing in a line waiting to get polio shots. I forgot about that. I guess that's what happens when memories start to go. :D That was pretty good, locking yourself in the car, how brave you were.

    I remember when I got my tonsils out, I think I was about 8 or 9 and my step-sister had to have hers out too. She was about 13, so we went together, how funny is that. I remember she was shaking and didn't want to go in the operating room, I went without a word, whimper. I was macha girl! lol. Anyways, after they were done cutting out the tonsils...hahahaha, when we woke up there was tons of ice cream that they gave us. I wholeheartedly gobbled mine up while my step-sister lay and moaned and cried and acted like a big baby.hehehehehe I then asked her, can I have yours? lol
    end of real life story.
    Have a great rest of the week.

  2. LOL! That brings back so many memories. I can give you one for each of them. I sat down on my butt in the floor, refusing to take another, and was told I would get it in the head! Well, up I came pretty quick!! LOL Thanks for a fun post!


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