Vaxxed to the maxx

That’s me.

And it’s not just the two COVID-19 vaccinations I got a month or so ago.

Let’s see if I can remember everything I’m vaxxed against.

Shingles. A relative once got shingles and her description of the experience was so awful, I jumped into anything that would prevent it. After I received the first shingles vaccine, my internist told me a new, stronger one was coming down the pike and she’d let me know when it was approved. It was approved and I got its two shots, nearly a year apart.

I’ll repeat part of that. And bold the repeat: my internist told me about the upcoming vaccine. Notice I did not see a TV commercial and pester my internist. She told me. Because that’s what physicians do. They do not dawdle around paying no attention to all the meds on the market until a patient asks them.

At some point a few years ago, I was told about a pneumonia vaccine and offered up my left arm for the shot.

Mm. What else? How about a shot for this year’s unspectacular flu? Got that shot, too. I always get flu vaccines because why not?

And how about several different Hepatitises? Several different shots.

So at this point I was feeling fairly immortal. Then my niece gave birth to a darling baby boy and she and her mother — both physicians — passed on the word about a vaccine shot called TDaP. Which I would need to get before I got close to the baby. Because babies are particularly vulnerable.

And I’m about to go out to get that shot, which is a blend of vaccines against three bad diseases: Tetanus, Diphtheria and Pertussis.

Summary: Every time I get a vaccine shot, my physician’s nurse tells me I might have a reaction. And I smile because I never have a reaction. Then I had a (mild) reaction only to one of the vaccinations. I don’t remember which.



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