Carry me, my bottom hurts!

When I was small in the late 1970’s and 1980’s, my mom used to take me to a pediatrician in Ashland, KY for all of my doctor’s visits.  I think that most people just went to a regular family doctor, but we would travel about 45 minutes to the pediatrician’s office.  It seems like every time I would go to that God forsaken place I would get a shot in my right hip.  It hurt so bad.  They don’t even give kids shots in the hips anymore, but they did then.  Sometimes I would swear that they were just injecting me with water for the fun of it.  My mom swears that it was baby shots, but I’m not so sure I believe her.  You see, there was a conspiracy against me.  My dad would say, “come here to daddy” and right there I would go like a big idiot and he would hug me tight, with my bottom stuck out and the nurse would pull down my underwear just enough to stab me right in the touche.  My mom generally liked to stay out of the room when possible during the shot giving procedure because it made her feel bad.  I would cry and what not and I pretty much milked it for all it was worth.  I remember my dad carrying me into the pharmacy once when I was sick because I refused to walk.  My bottom hurt.  I was mad, I had gotten a shot and I was on strike.  If he wanted me to get the shot so bad he could just tote me around then.  He didn’t seem to mind.  No matter how many times I tried to teach them this lesson, they were slow learners.  My mom or dad would always carry me, not realizing that they were in time-out.  It was harder to train parents back then. 

There was a park on the other side of the road from the Pediatrician’s office.  My dad used to take me there to play when my brother had to see the pediatrician.  It was on those occassions that my brother had the sore bottom and I was having fun.  One time we were both seeing the pediatrician (my mom liked to schedule checkups together whenever possible for obvisous reasons) and I went down the hall to use the restroom.  I froze when I saw the nurse at a nurses station with a needle inside a medicine bottle.  The look on my face must have said it all.  She smiled warmly and said, “oh, don’t worry, this isn’t for you, its for your brother”.  Shew, was I glad, I mean, it was his butt or mine. 

Still to this day when I drive by that building my right hip begins to ache.  In fact, its aching right now just writing this.  I don’t know if the shots actually hurt as much as I remember them.  I get shots now and they don’t really hurt all that much, but back then, it was terrible.  At any rate, the only childhood disease that I came down with was chicken pox and they didn’t have a vaccine for it then so I guess my mom was right, it wasnt’ just water after all.

Leave a Reply