H1N1 success ... at last

Burned twice, nothing was going to stop me now. I was a freaked out parent on the prowl, willing to go to any length to get my child that elusive vaccination I had been seeking for weeks now. I'm sure part of it had to do with the paranoia sweeping California regarding the virus, and part of it had to do with me not willing to consider the scenarios where I *could* have done something, but didn't.

So it was off to the Santa Clara fairgrounds again, where yet another free clinic was being held. Except this time I showed up at 6:30am. And this time I was ready. I had my cold weather gear (it was 35 degrees), I had my lawn chair, and I had my New York Times (the Sunday edition takes me hours to read cover to cover). Once the line started to move, I planned to call Saeeda to drive over with Nuha, and then the three of us would hang out until we got the shot.

As it turned out, my showing up that early was a good idea, because there was already a ridiculous line of people waiting before me. And with that line came the associated entrepreneurs, selling everything from churros to eternal salvation (some Church group or other passing out pamphlets). One guy was even dressed up as a Subway sandwich and was handing out coupons.

By 9am, I had called Saeeda, who arrived with an unsuspecting Nuha in tow. It was a good thing they got there when they did, because the line had started to move, and beyond a certain point the police were not letting anyone hold places in line for anyone. There were a lot of distraught parents, one of whom had been holding a spot only to realize that they had gone past the point where they could usher their family in later.

It was around 11am by the time we finally made it INTO the fairground building where the shots were being administered. The scene was surreal, and instantly made me think of a Hollywood disaster flick - queues of confused people in a vast hall being directed by authoritative staff and conflicting signs; nurse stations quickly processing vaccine administrations; doctors and emergency personnel standing by in the wings; relieved patients walking out quickly, just glad that the ordeal was over.

The unsuspecting victim before heading inside:

The line inside:

Uh oh:

All done!:

The Quest for the H1N1 vaccine #2

Wizened by last week's H1N1 experience, Saeeda and I spent the last few days strategizing which clinic to attend to get the vaccine for Nuha. I know that we've moved beyond the rational with our panicky approach, but we're parents. We're not supposed to be rational entities anymore.

Son on Friday, after poring over the clinic information and mapping out distances to each, Saeeda and I settled on a Sunnyvale clinic. At 6:30am on Saturday I was awake and dressed. Armed with a water bottle and some reading material, I was ready to be dropped off to hold a place in line for the vaccine.

Saeeda dropped my off by 7am, but already there was a line wrapping around the clinic building. The staff had resorted to handing out numbers to people so that entire families did not have to wait in the morning drizzle. You took the number and came back with your family at the assigned time. However, it was the line for these numbers itself that wrapped around the clinic.

By around 8am things started moving as the folks at the very front of the line began to receive numbers (the clinic wasn't set to open until 9:30am, but they decided to hand out the numbers earlier). Still, the going was slow because people were being interviewed about the number of high risk individuals in their family that needed the shot. Given that not everyone spoke English fluently, and things started to slow down.

While waiting, I decided to strike up a conversation with the guy in front of me. It turned out, to my surprise, that he was an alum from the University of Chicago. Not only that, but since he had gone on to study law at Northwestern, he knew my cousin (alum of U. of C) and many of my friends who were lawyers in Chicago. Small world.

The line kept moving, the rain kept falling, and I continued texting Saeeda with status updates. But around 9:30am something changed. The line started moving a lot faster, and no one knew what was going on until we rounded the corner and saw that a police officer and clinic staff member were turning people away now. They had run out of vaccine, and were therefore no longer handing out numbers. There was no point in waiting anymore.

I silently cursed fate as I dialed Saeeda to come pick me up. Two weeks now, and I had nothing to show for all the waiting around I had done. Today, the vaccine was gone in 90 minutes. What would this country do if there was a true virus outbreak of pandemic proportions? If California couldn't handle the situation for a limited at-risk population, what would happen if everyone were to need a vaccination because of a lethal virus spreading through the community?

Boggles the mind.

The Quest for the H1N1 Vaccine - Attempt #1

Perspectives change once you become a parent. I detest getting flu shots for the very logical belief that I'm Wolverine and no earthly malady can lay me low for long (I know, I'm asking for it). However, this H1N1 thing has me and Saeeda concerned about the little one. At the end of the day, should something bad happen because Nuha went unvaccinated, I don't know how I'd live with myself. Somehow I don't think saying, "but the odds were against this happening..." would make feel any better.

As far as the swine flu - for some reason California trails the rest of the developed world and is rationing out its H1N1 vaccines. Supply is outstripping demand and those pediatrician offices lucky enough to receive a stash are only handing it out to pregnant women or mothers of little ones under 6 months old. The rest of us have to resort to a scouring of the internet to locate free weekly clinics where the shots are available to the remaining high-risk population - kids between 6 months and 24 years of age. Which begs the question - why the hell are 24 year olds considered high risk - doesn't the fact that they've survived college grant them immunity from all known toxins?

Saeeda found a listing for a clinic that was being offered at the Santa Clara Fairgrounds, so this morning we decided to check things out, hoping to get Nuha vaccinated and then to move on to other errands we had for the day. Oh, how naive we were.

Admittedly, we rolled up to the Fairground at 11am, which we thought was relatively early. But already the line of people stretched outside and wrapped for at least a half-mile outside the parking lot. Families were camped out with lawn chairs, blankets, toys, food - had I not known, I would have guessed it to be a national holiday of some sort, with the families waiting for the parade to start.

I rolled down my car window and asked a departing family how long it had taken them before they received their shot.

"4 hours. We've been here since 7am."

?!

I looked at Saeeda - getting in line now was futile. The wait would be even longer. Maybe not wanting to wait in line would make me a horrible father. But another, more reasonable part of me just said to wait until next week, when we'd be able to properly plan for a clinic and actually show up earlier. With that, I turned the car around to head home.

The Quest to get the H1N1 Vaccine was on.