A Shot? I've Been Here Before

Earlier this month I spent a few minutes in a large building at Cal Expo, there to get a shot to protect me from the corona virus.  I was surprised at how smoothly the whole thing went—a long line of people slowly moving forward toward nurses who injected each person, scheduled the next shot, and then told each person to sit in a nearby chair for fifteen minutes. If no adverse reactions were observed during that period, we could leave.

I sat down and reminded myself, I’ve been here before.

When I was in elementary school in Chicago, we were told one day in class that we were going to be given a shot that would help protect us from a serious illness.  What exact language was used I don’t remember.  We were little kids in the early grades right after kindergarten, and I doubt that our teachers used words like immunization and inoculation. We were told, however, that it would hurt, but only for a little while, and that we could have our parents there if we wanted.

On the appointed day, the entire student body, close to 300 children, gathered in the school’s basement lunchroom.  Quite a few adults were there, easily visible, towering over the mob of children.  Both of my parents worked, and I had not asked them to be present.

Slowly, inexorably, relentlessy the line moved forward, and in the crush of people—children, parents, nurses, school employees—someone grabbed my arm and I felt a stick.  At least, I guess I felt something stick me, but you have to understand:  That was in the 1930s, a heck of lot of years have gone by since then, my memory might not be the most accurate, and I was a little boy with heroes in the westerns who could be gut-shot by a .45 and walk into a bar and drink half a bottle of bourbon.  I wasn’t about to say ouch.

What disease we were being protected against I don’t know.  I tried to get an answer from the internet, which gave me several choices—smallpox, whooping cough, diphtheria, scarlet fever, tuberculosis, and polio.  A vaccine for polio didn’t come along until years later, so it would have had to have been something else. 

Back to the present.  My fifteen minutes at Cal Expo were ended.  I hadn’t yet started frothing at the mouth or whatever kind of adverse reaction I might have had, so a nurse told me I could go.

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