:mattLandia:

After hours of trying to get my 'travel shots' prior to my upcoming trip to Hong Kong and Bangalore, I got super lucky and found an available appointment with a travel clinic up in Gainesville, GA.

After arriving promptly at 3pm, I was shown into a smallish nurses station where I was attended to by a super sweet, completely southern nurse who spoke with a distinct georgian drawl. They actually have a leather La-Z-Boy recliner in the middle of the station, and when sitting in it, I felt like I was slowly sinking into leather oblivion.

This sweet, sweet woman began to walk me through list of various plagues that I was SURE to be exposed to in India and regaled me with stories of how easy it is for a western man like myself to get sick while traveling. The whole conversation was priceless, like a moment right out of Fried Green Tomatoes or something. It was more her delivery, than the actual message that tickled me so. Example,

" You know that there Monteezoomas reevenge they have down in 'ol Mejico? Well I tell you, Monteezooma has got a cuz'n over there in India that will KICK.. YER... BUTT!"

" Oooo honey. With your delicate stomach condition, if I were to prescribe those malaria peells versus these here, well... they would rip you open top to bottom."

After the preliminary interview, where she pored over my nearly full WHO Immunization card that I've had since birth, she got out the needles. Turns out I need 4 vaccines given in 3 injections (Hep A, Hep B, Typhoid, and Tetanus) and two types of pills (Malarone for Malaria and Cipro just in case I get really sick). The room was already getting a bit stuffy, (and for those of who know me and how I respond to anxiety this won't be a surprise) I started to feel a little queasy and light headed. I was white-knucklin' the arms of the La-Z-Boy, laughing as best as I could at her jokes, determined to keep a grip. One shot down... sweat starts to bead on my forehead. Second shot down... I'm not feeling so great, but I'm managing a grimace. The nurse continues to overflow with information about the potential side effects of the shots... Third shot in... Now I'm happy the shots are done, but I want OUT OF HERE.

No such luck.

Part of my one hour appointment with the Health Department is to be 'taught' the do's and dont's of travel. My nurse was off and to the races, lecturing me about the fatality of malaria, the odds that I would be urinated on in Bangalore, musing on my chances of catching Yellow Fever in Hong Kong, etc. - all the while handing me print out after print out of detailed documentation on every malady that might possibly befall me. Every 5 minutes, sweat dripping from my forehead and underarms, I would think "Surely this lady is about done?" 30 minutes later, she finally wound down and kicked me out and on my merry way.

I suppose I could have just stopped her, but it's so hard to interrupt a proper southern woman once she get's to lecturing, so I figured the path of least resistance was to just sit and bear it. In the end, I'm glad. After her expert tutelage, there is nothing I'm not prepared for. Bring on the feces in my food, the down wind urination contamination, the tyhpoid breathe, and diarhea butt. I've got shots and pills. I'm as ready as I'll ever be.