Sixty degrees Fahrenheit and rising. Didn't anyone get the memo? I sat in a waiting room in utter disbelief surrounded by other babies, all of them bundled head to toe for the tundra. Meanwhile I was sweating in my light fleece sweatshirt.
It was already mid-50s when we left the apartment, but these poor kids were dressed for a trip to Alaska, not Jerusalem. I had already been to the tundra, aka New York City. I guess the benefit of having experienced a real winter meant we were better equipped to dress for this phantom one in Israel. In my short life I endured three snowstorms, blizzards in fact, during three weeks in New York. Nevertheless, my mother insists that running in NY during the biting winter is still easier - sea level and flat - than any time of year on the atrocious hills of Jerusalem.
But I digress. So I was in this waiting room with the Eskimo Israeli babies when I heard a cry from one of the offices. This startled me back to reality and forced me to wonder why we were here. I'm sure mommy explained it, but sometimes she sugarcoats the facts. The baby continued screaming. Hm, something was stirring in the deep recesses of my developing brain, and that would be called long-term memory. All of a sudden, the dim lighting, the sterile walls and the pathetic children's decor in the room coupled with the baby's cries all snapped together in my brain: I was getting my RSV shot!
The RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) vaccination is an exclusive immunization for children and adults with high risk issues, like heart problems, and it costs about $1,000 a shot (thank God for socialized medicine paying for mine). Therefore, it is only for those of us who get special recommendations, for example from a cardiologist, it is only given during the winter months (each month for five months), and it is the anti-virus as opposed to other shots that inject you with the actual disease.
I looked at mommy, the panic clear in my brown marble eyes. Mommy reassured me that pain makes us stronger. But for now I prefer to join the other babies in screaming. And I did.
Afterwards mommy took me to a nice outdoor cafe and treated me to a latte while she sipped a cappuccino. I rolled around in the grass and mommy quickly banged out an article for work. Then it was mommy's turn for torture.
Ah, vengeance is sweet sometimes. While the workers fawned over me at the dentist's office, the hygienist pried open mommy's mouth and removed a couple pounds of plaque with that torturous cold water jet. I'm sure that will help her come marathon time with the excess weight lifted. After the dentist and his assistant returned to their work, I got impatient with the lack of attention and made sure mommy knew it. By the end of her cleaning, which was fast tracked for my sake, I was on her lap while the hygienist quickly slathered toothpaste on mommy's teeth and sent us on our way.
But it was too beautiful outside to just go home and we needed to take advantage of this glorious weather. We met abba and he took me for a long stroll while mommy went for a long run. More torture for her. Only 30 more days until the marathon!
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It was already mid-50s when we left the apartment, but these poor kids were dressed for a trip to Alaska, not Jerusalem. I had already been to the tundra, aka New York City. I guess the benefit of having experienced a real winter meant we were better equipped to dress for this phantom one in Israel. In my short life I endured three snowstorms, blizzards in fact, during three weeks in New York. Nevertheless, my mother insists that running in NY during the biting winter is still easier - sea level and flat - than any time of year on the atrocious hills of Jerusalem.
But I digress. So I was in this waiting room with the Eskimo Israeli babies when I heard a cry from one of the offices. This startled me back to reality and forced me to wonder why we were here. I'm sure mommy explained it, but sometimes she sugarcoats the facts. The baby continued screaming. Hm, something was stirring in the deep recesses of my developing brain, and that would be called long-term memory. All of a sudden, the dim lighting, the sterile walls and the pathetic children's decor in the room coupled with the baby's cries all snapped together in my brain: I was getting my RSV shot!
The RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) vaccination is an exclusive immunization for children and adults with high risk issues, like heart problems, and it costs about $1,000 a shot (thank God for socialized medicine paying for mine). Therefore, it is only for those of us who get special recommendations, for example from a cardiologist, it is only given during the winter months (each month for five months), and it is the anti-virus as opposed to other shots that inject you with the actual disease.
I looked at mommy, the panic clear in my brown marble eyes. Mommy reassured me that pain makes us stronger. But for now I prefer to join the other babies in screaming. And I did.
Afterwards mommy took me to a nice outdoor cafe and treated me to a latte while she sipped a cappuccino. I rolled around in the grass and mommy quickly banged out an article for work. Then it was mommy's turn for torture.
Ah, vengeance is sweet sometimes. While the workers fawned over me at the dentist's office, the hygienist pried open mommy's mouth and removed a couple pounds of plaque with that torturous cold water jet. I'm sure that will help her come marathon time with the excess weight lifted. After the dentist and his assistant returned to their work, I got impatient with the lack of attention and made sure mommy knew it. By the end of her cleaning, which was fast tracked for my sake, I was on her lap while the hygienist quickly slathered toothpaste on mommy's teeth and sent us on our way.
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| I got a nice view of the action in the ceiling mirror from my perch in the dentist's chair. |
But it was too beautiful outside to just go home and we needed to take advantage of this glorious weather. We met abba and he took me for a long stroll while mommy went for a long run. More torture for her. Only 30 more days until the marathon!
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