I had intended to update earlier in the day but I finally got to fly again and had one of the greatest flights I've had in a long time. I did amazing for not having flown for over a month. But that's for another entry...maybe. Today I want to tell you about the hell that is the Broward Co. (Florida) Health Department.

Icebear Jr. is now about 5 ½ months old. We got his immunizations done at 2 months, but kind of missed the 4 month set. See, here's the deal. After he was born, for a very short time, he was covered under my insurance at work. Well, we tried to pull a fast one on the pediatrician and the insurance company and take him in at 2 months for his shots. Well, the insurance company returned the bill saying they wouldn't pay it so the pediatrician sent us a bill for the visit. FUCKIN' $350! All this for three shots and a five minute look-over by an asshole with a ped. license. Well, we couldn't afford to pay it, but needed to take him in for his next series of shots. We knew they wouldn't do the next set until we paid for the first, so, like the bad parents we are, we put it off. Well, my mother kept bugging me about it so finally, we decided that Tuesday night, we'd go get the shots done. The Health Dept. had immunization walk-ins from 12:30 to 7:00 PM so I figured I'd pick the wife and kids up from work, we'd swing by, get the shots and be done. No fuckin' way.

We find the Health Dept. around 5:45 or so and head in, see signs pointing to immunizations and jump into the elevator to go to the next floor. Exiting the elevator, we see the immunization room off to our right, and a shitload of people standing around waiting. Damn! There must have been about 30 people in there. We squeeze in and I make my way over to the window where a black woman who looks like she'd rather be home is staring at me as I approach. I could tell she wasn't going to have good news for me. I asked if we needed a number or something and she just nodded and said "Downstairs". Shit. Back down. So down we went.

After going back down and outside, we find the right door and enter. The room is set up like a classroom almost, there's 4 rows of long tables with chairs behind them facing another table at the front of the room with a couple of women working behind it. The thing that bothers me is that there's a TV and a VCR with "The Rescuers Down Under" playing and people sitting watching the movie. Shit! Are we going to be here long? We wander to the front and I'm handed a small stack of forms to fill out. I grab a clipboard, sit down and scribble down the info as fast as I can. Upon returning to the desk, I answer a few meaningless questions, am handed the stack back with a little yellow card folded in half and an index card with the number 104 written on it in black marker. The lady, who has been really polite, looks up and says, "Now you need to take that information upstairs to the second floor." Great, back upstairs.

We go back up in the elevator and squeeze back into the waiting room. There's no signs on the wall to tell what number they're on so we just hang out and wait. There's a TV playing the Simpson's behind us so I know it's between 6:00 and 6:30. When the next episode starts, I know it's after 6:30. Finally, they come out and call some people in "#85, #86, #87..." Shit! They're only in the 80's? Well, luckily, this freed up some seats near the TV so we sit down and put Demonchild in the seat facing the TV so he'll settle his ass down. When the Friends episode starts, I know it's 7:00. We've already been here over an hour and they're not even in the 90's yet. While waiting, Icebear Jr. spits up all over his outfit, so the wife changes him and calms him back down. They've hit #95 in the meantime. Seinfeld comes on so I know it's at least 7:30. How much longer?

After a brief snafu where the nurse skips a few numbers, they finally get to the 100's. Whoever had 102 is gone so they skip to #103 and then #104. We're up! I grab the baby in his car sea/carrier and the wife drags Demonchild along. We follow the nurse around the corner to...another fucking waiting area? Goddamn! And sitting there is the guy who had #97 and he was called at least 30 minutes before us. Shit. Luckily, we only had to wait there for about 20 minutes. Unforunately, Icebear Jr. spit up two more times so we had to change him again. We finally get called into a room to get his shots taken care of. This is where I really start feeling like a piece of shit father.

The wife holds Jr. on her lap because I don't want him to associate this bad experience with me. The nurse gets everything ready and he's just staring around the room wide eyed. He's so cute. She finally has everything ready and grabs the first syringe. I wasn't sure how she was going to do it...would she just jab it in or would she go slow or what. She did it just normally though. I was impressed at Jr. because he didn't cry...for about 3 seconds and then he started wailing. I wanted to smack the nurse for doing that but I know he needs the shots. She quickly grabs the second syringe and administers the second shot. By this time, Jr. is turning red and crying till he almost can't breathe. Me, I'm near tears here. I can hardly take it. To make matters worse, what does the nurse do? She points over her shoulder to me and says, "Look up here! He's the one who brought you here." Jr. looks up at me with his reddened face, pouty lips, lower lip stuck out so far it was another appendage, and tears running down his face and seemed to say, "How could you?!" I almost broke down again. In seconds she had the bandaid on his leg (he had to get the shots in his thighs) and had the third and final syringe in hand for the last shot. She administered it quickly, which started a whole new round of sobs and then quickly bandaged it. No sooner was she done than I had plucked Jr. out of my wife's hands and was just hugging him for all I was worth. Talk about feeling low.

As we headed back out through the now empty waiting room, I sighed a huge sigh of relief. The wife looked at me and said, "Now you see why I don't want to come here." I said, "Yeah, but at least it's free." Thank goodness for that. It doesn't really offset the two hour wait, but it does help a little. By the time we were on the road home, Jr. was out cold in his seat. Poor little guy had been through an ordeal and ½ and was just tuckered out. When we left, the nurses told us to make an appointment next time. Seems the reason it was so busy was because they were doing immunizations for school at the time too and they said, "It's too hard on the babies to have to wait so long." So, next time, we'll make an appointment. Maybe we'll only have to wait an hour ½ then. We'll see.

Ok, well, it wasn't quite the entry that I had hoped. I tried not to get too detailed and drag it out, but I think in doing so, I made it boring. Oh well. I was there, I experienced it and that's all that matters. Besides, I'm in a hurry and I want to go home and fuck my wife. It's the oddest thing. Normally she's the horndog, but lately, I've been feeling extra studly. Go figure. Well, till next time.

"Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?"

Icebear

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