My son’s temperature was almost 105.
I knew we had to go to the doctor and so did he. We both hate going to the doctor. We’ve got our own reasons.
I hate it because it reminds me of all the time that I spent in waiting rooms with my sick mother. He hates it because that’s the only place where they give you shots. In fact, that was his first question when he found out where he was going.
“Am I going to have to get a shot?”
I badly wanted to say no.
“No way! If they try to give you a shot, they’re going to have to come through me first and they don’t want to do that because I watch the UFC.”
“Shot? Are you kidding me? You belong to Jesus and bad things never happen to Jesus’ precious little lambs.”
I chose not to go with either of those options but I did make him a promise. It was basically the same promise that God made to Jeremiah.
“They will fight against you, but they shall not prevail against you, for I am with you, declares the Lord, to deliver you.” Jeremiah 1:19 (ESV)
No matter what happened at the doctor’s office, shot or not shot, good or bad, our Deliverer would be with us.
While we were sitting in the waiting room, we must have looked like two escaped convicts that were driving up on a police road block. This just wasn’t our place.
His heart was about to jump out of his chest and mine wasn’t doing much better when I remembered that I would probably get a sermon from the pediatrician for not giving our kids the flu shot. You know, the shot that no one is really sure what’s in it and that only kind of works.
Finally, we were called back.
“Dad, we check him for the flu.”
My son didn’t know what that meant. I did but didn’t let on.
The nurse came in with a plastic stick that was, as best as I can remember, 72 feet long. She told my son that it was going to tickle his nose. That’s doctor code talk for impending pain. My son hated it but the good news is that he passed the test. At least that’s how the doctor spun it. He came back in with the results in a cute little box that looked like a pregnancy test. He told me that I could take it home to mom as long as I didn’t touch it seeing as how it had the flu on it and all. I thought about using it to rob a liquor store but went with my better judgment and threw it away.
“Dad, you give him flu shot?”
Now my heart started to beat fast. I could already imagine the brownshirts from DFACS coming in to tell me what a bad father I was for not taking the flu shot. I had to think fast.
“Oh, we went with the mist this year.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that “the mist” was from a bottle we bought for 20 bucks at the health food store check out line.
“Good. Would have been real bad without that.”
Score one for the $20 all natural flu mist from the health food store.
And then, before leaving the room, the doctor looked at my son and said these words.
“No shot for you.”
I’ve never seen a flu patient so happy.