It turns out that India has different germs from Santa Cruz. Because of this, and lessons learned from wool blankets and smallpox with those other Indians (from the old Westerns), I thought it best to:
A) get some shots before going to India, and
B) not take any wooden nickels from strangers
My first plan was to work up an infectious cocktail based on whatever I could glean from the dumpster behind the Indian restaurant near my house. My second thought was that I could really use a sandwich right about now. My third thought was to call my doctor and see what he could accomplish (without probing me).
Of course, seeing a doctor on short-notice is nigh-impossible these days, so I saw Christina. She has a white coat and uses medically words. But she is not a doctor. However, good enough is good enough.
Christina asked where I was going…
Me: India. (Duh.)
C: How long will you be there?
M: One week, maybe two. And maybe again near the end of March.
C: Going anywhere else?
M: Well, probably an airport in Singapore or something. I think India is far. I’ll probably have to stop.
So, that wasn’t too bad. Then she asked me what *I* wanted. That made me want to strike her dead on the spot. I don’t really know what I want.
M: What do I need?
C: Well, there’s Hepatitis A. You’ll need that.
M: How does one get Hepatitis A?
C: Well, human fecal material comes in contact with the mouth, generally.
Alright. Thanks, Christina. Now I’m worried. I am NOT excited about some crazy poo-to-mouth ritual. Where am I going again?
M: Alright, what else?
C: Have you been vaccinated for polio?
M: I dunno. Probably.
C: Have you had a tetanus shot in the last 10 years?
M: I dunno. Probably. I stepped on a nail once. Tetanus just gives you lockjaw?
C: Correct. And you can die from lockjaw.
M: K. Better give me that one, too.
So far Ol’ ‘Tina has me eating poo and stepping on rusty nails. Fine, Fine. Not so bad.
C: Do you need Hepatitus B?
M: I dunno. What’s that for.
C: Well, if you plan to have intercourse with the local population, or take blood or other fluids, you should have it.
How to answer? So many possibilities! Take it easy, killer. You don’t know Tina that well, yet. Pretend you have an inner monologue like other people, and do whatever it says.
M: Oh, of course. Well, no blood for me this time. This is a business trip.
C: If you get hurt and need blood, there’s nothing we can do afterwards.
M: Fine, sign me up.
Poo. Nails. Bleeding. Done? Not yet.
C: Typhus?
M: That’s something I don’t want to catch, right?
C: Right.
M: Sign me up.
C: Have you had a flu shot?
M: Not since I was 12. They’re for the weak.
C: We’ll get you one of those, then.
M: Are you trying to tell me something?
Tina seemed satisfied then with poo, blood, nails, fevers, and flu. But, bujeezus, there’s only one thing I know from the movies:
M: Malaria?
C: Oh, yes, that. Depends on the region. Where specifically are you going?
M: Bangalore.
C: And that is?
M: In India.
C: Thank you, smarty. Is it on the coast?
M: Hmm. Probably not. I think it’s more inland.
C: Okay, let me check something.
Tina leaves. I nap. Later, she returns with a piece of paper with a lot of long words with lots of syllables. It was a list with things like:
C: Do any of these look familiar?
M: No. But I think I went to school with the 3rd guy.
C: These are the places that you DO NOT need malaria treatments. Is Bangalore there?
M: I dunno.
C: There’s an Indian doctor down the hall. I’ll ask him.
More time passes. More napping. Tina returneth.
C: He says he gives it to everyone, no exceptions.
N: Great. Sign me up for that, too.
C: Will you be spending any time hiking or in the countryside?
N: Not unless I really piss someone off.
C: So, that’s a yes?
N: Ha!
That’s about it: blood, dirt, poo, fevers, mosquitoes, rusty nails, the flu, and “intercourse with the local population.” Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.
Thankfully, she split the shots between both arms. It spreads the pain, so that both arms are somewhat usable. Unfortunately, she spread the shots between both arms. How can one play foosball with two spaghetti arms? I should be truthful: she also offered to put the last dose in my rump. I said that I thought we should get to know each a little better, first. That last dose seemed to hurt more than the others. It might have been all the syringe twisting.
I had to get an oral vaccine for typhus. Apparently it was in high demand after the Tsunami, so they didn’t have any injections. I took that pill before dinner.
And thus I am here with two sore shoulders, a queasy stomach, a headache, and a general alleviation of fears of blood, dirt, poo, fevers, mosquitoes, rusty nails, the flu, and “intercourse with the local population.”
But, I have a new paranoia now: the malaria drug. While in the pharmacy, the oldest fellow in the pharmacy (clearly the head honcho) came over to ask if I suffered from any depression.
M: No, not really. Sometimes I seeth at idiots on the highway, but that’s about it.
Pharma: I mean clinical depression. Had any?
M: No. Why?
P: Well, it’s a known, but rare, side effect. People have been known to jump out of windows while on this stuff.
Ahh. Of course. Great. Add “sudden decelerations” to my list of potential disasters. Sweet!
Will they have the superbowl on the airplane?
