First Vaccination - the BCG!

Today, Julien had his first vaccination - the BCG (Bacillus-Calmette-Guerin). Apparently, he should have been given this jab in the hospital after birth, but somehow, it ended up being now, 7 weeks later. As we prepared to go to the hospital, I was starting to feel worried. In fact, I have started to feel anxious since yesterday. Daddy Low thinks it's funny, 'cos Julien's the one getting the jab, not me. But I can't explain it; I had felt the same sense of dread when the girls (our dogs) were sent to be spayed as well. Just the emotional one in me coming to the fore, I guess.

Anyway, we reached the hospital and everything happened very quickly after that. In fact, this was probably the fastest we have ever been seen to in our experience with the hospitals here. No wait, no fuss, no long or messy paperwork. We were called in straight after we arrived, and ushered into the vaccination room of the TB Unit. Indeed, I was surprised when the nurse who ushered us actually just picked up our baby car-seat in one effortless swoop, seeing as how we were one holding the baby and the other, the huge baby bag. I had the feeling we were in some sort of blitz operation, one that was not going to be enjoyable and they are trying to do all they can to make it so fast that (1) you have no time to reconsider and make a last-minute decision to jump ship and (2) it is quickly done and over with. The feeling was reinforced when you notice the ushering nurse was dressed in a distinct white-and-black uniform that screamed authority, especially when draped over her burly and sturdily built body... as was the same with another similarly built and dressed ushering nurse standing in front of another door with folded arms over her chest. Guess that was why they felt more like bodyguards to me...

In the vaccination room, we were seated down and given a leaflet to read about the BCG vaccination, then asked by the nurse-in-charge why we did not have the injection in hospital after birth, followed in quick succession by why we chose the other town's hospital instead of this local one. And with this nurse, being the senior, full-of-experience, I-am-in-charge, matronly type, it felt more like an interrogation really.

In the leaflet, I read this part, which she also made a special point of drawing my attention to:

"Immediately after the injection, a raised blister will appear.  This shows that the injection has been given properly.  Within two to six weeks of the injection, a small spot will appear.  This may be quite sore for a few days, but it should gradually heal if you don't cover it. It may leave a small scar. Occasionally, your baby may develop a shallow sore where he had the injection. If this is oozing fluid and needs to be covered, use a dry dressing - never a plaster - until a scab forms. This sore may take as long as several months to heal."

I can deal with a scar, but oozing fluid?! My worry climbed another notch...

The matronly TB Unit nurse motioned us to put Julien on the examination bed. She started to explain what would happen next - that she would insert the needle under the skin for the injection. And if Baby jerked or wriggled too much and the insertion was not accurate, she would have to "keep doing it" (her exact words) until it was right, and all the while she said this, she was looking grim. Then, she asked who would be holding Julien, because a "firm hold" was needed. And almost immediately after, she said, "So it will be Daddy?" and it was more of a statement than a question really. I guess her experience was that the daddy is the one with the stronger and steadier hold. And probably, it was quite apparent that it wasn't gonna be me... (haha).

So, Daddy Low held Julien down and the Nurse switched on a powerful light. Then, she took out the needle. It was a normal needle really, but I was feeling the dread in me rising already. Ok, I admit, I don't like needles, but I am not the type to scream in pain or cry etc; I simply look away, when I know the needle is coming in... But now that it was not me who was receiving the jab, but someone dear to me, I felt compelled to watch, even if I could have looked away. It's like that perverse sense of anticipation one has for watching horror films (which I used to feel drawn to watch and my mum was my best horror film viewing partner - we were both scared, but still want to watch anyway, so would draw courage from each other... peeping behind our hands of course...)...

So, I saw her place the needle against Julien's skin, then I saw it enter. And I quickly looked at Julien's face... And my poor boy, who was slumbering before that, suddenly scrunched up his face and burst into loud violent bawling. So violent that his whole face turned red. I think I sort of flew into a panicky sort of fretting, though I did not show it outwardly (this is the art of adult deception to fit in with social norms, Julien - you never show your panic, or you become a loser and lose all credibility!). And I was enormously glad that I was not the one holding Baby, lest I am the one who jerked even if he didn't!

Daddy Low did an admirable job of giving a firm hold (Steadiness is clearly a trait of military men :) And it was over in a minute - the needle was out and Baby was dressed and I was called to sit beside the Nurse at the table, who has now efficiently moved on to the paperwork and giving me brisk instructions regarding post-injection care about bathing etc, while her pen flew away. I felt almost in a daze.

And finally, she gave us a smile and said that it was all done and it went well. And I think to myself, "Thanks, love, that smile could have come earlier and saved me the emotional turmoil." Coming now only makes it feel like we have completed some super dangerous mission, crossing behind enemy lines and taking down some heavy duty artillery, tankers etc.

Later, Daddy Low told me tat he thought it was a good thing that Julien had the BCG injection now that he is older rather than at birth, when we would have been still frazzled with learning the ropes of how to care for a baby plus me still recovering. He went on about how Julien was so brave and only cried a bit and calmed down soon after and how the nurse was great, being very experienced, confident and knew exactly what she was doing... And I think to myself - Ok, so it seems like a walk in the park for Daddy Low and I am a bag of nerves... But melodrama or not, you tell me... I am surely not the only first-time mummy to feel all jellylike when my dear little one is going for injection in such a tension-overloaded environment with matching stressful cues! :)


PS: And it is not funny, Daddy Low! Stop laughing! Bleah!