Yellow cards ... check!
International regulations require proof of yellow fever vaccination for travel to and from certain countries, including Nigeria. People who get vaccinated are given an International Certificate of Vaccination, otherwise known as a "yellow card," which is approved by the World Health Organization and issued by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) in the United States. As of last week, the kids and I have completed our vaccinations and yellow cards are in hand!
While my laundry list of vaccinations was much longer than the kids' (I had to get boosters of all those childhood vaccines that my kids are already up to date with), the experience was definitely more traumatic for them (I am very brave, after all).
Elizabeth felt the most betrayed, I think. When she asked me why we were going to the doctor, I told her we were going to talk to the doctor about staying healthy while in Africa. I never said we would NOT be getting shots, but I didn't divulge that little detail either. Last time I gave her advance warning, she cried for an hour before the appointment. So I thought I was learning from my mistake by eliminating the anticipation.
It didn't work.
"Mommy, you lied," was the lament as we were led into the exam room. Nevertheless, Elizabeth bravely went first and proceeded to dissolve into hysterics, which of course led Dane into hysterics and, panic-struck, he scrambled under a chair trying to hide from the sheer horror. It was not a pretty scene. My poor babies!
Throughout it all, Nathan remained stoic and only cringed during his turn on the table. Later that night, however, all three were limping around and asking to be picked up and carried.
Bitsy did come home from school the next day with a headache and went to bed with a fever, but she woke up feeling better, and I hope that is the end of the vaccination trauma.
Next challenge? Getting them to take their antimalarial pills every day. Woo-hoo!
While my laundry list of vaccinations was much longer than the kids' (I had to get boosters of all those childhood vaccines that my kids are already up to date with), the experience was definitely more traumatic for them (I am very brave, after all).
Elizabeth felt the most betrayed, I think. When she asked me why we were going to the doctor, I told her we were going to talk to the doctor about staying healthy while in Africa. I never said we would NOT be getting shots, but I didn't divulge that little detail either. Last time I gave her advance warning, she cried for an hour before the appointment. So I thought I was learning from my mistake by eliminating the anticipation.
It didn't work.
"Mommy, you lied," was the lament as we were led into the exam room. Nevertheless, Elizabeth bravely went first and proceeded to dissolve into hysterics, which of course led Dane into hysterics and, panic-struck, he scrambled under a chair trying to hide from the sheer horror. It was not a pretty scene. My poor babies!
Throughout it all, Nathan remained stoic and only cringed during his turn on the table. Later that night, however, all three were limping around and asking to be picked up and carried.
Bitsy did come home from school the next day with a headache and went to bed with a fever, but she woke up feeling better, and I hope that is the end of the vaccination trauma.
Next challenge? Getting them to take their antimalarial pills every day. Woo-hoo!
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| Putting on their best sad faces. |
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| They can't do it! Smiles peek out. |
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| Some ibuprofen to ease the soreness. |
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| The scene of the crime. |
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