One Flu Over The Cuckoo's Nest

I wasn’t coming from a rational place. I admit that.

I had made the appointment for Ari to get a flu shot weeks in advance. Although her asthma is mild – no daily medication, just a week or two on the nebulizer each winter – I knew a flu shot was the smart thing.

That was the plan. And then, I started reading about thimerosal.

Now this wasn’t the first time I’ve read about the preservative that many feel causes autism. In the special needs community, this is pretty old news. And I always thought I knew where I stood on the matter.

Until now.

All these years, my opinion was in line with the many experts who have shown no link between thimerosal and autism. But my mind wasn’t focusing on that just now.

Although the shot was for Ari, my mind was focusing on Max.
My mind was focusing on my bright, playful, affectionate -- and neurologically atypical -- son.
My mind was focusing on the year we spent trying to get a correct diagnosis.
My mind was focusing – perhaps a bit too much – on one surreal day last year when one psychiatrist told us (incorrectly) that Max was on the autistic spectrum.
My mind was focusing on rages, acts of destruction, defiancy, inflexibility and mood shifts.

Ari is everything Max is not: cheerful, predictable, agreeable, flexible.

Easy.

The thought of that changing – no matter how unlikely -- was devastating to me.

I knew it was best for Ari’s health to have a flu shot. But I wasn’t sure what it was going to do to my nerves.

So I started making phone calls. I knew there was a flu shot without thimerosal. The trick was finding it. I started with my pediatrician who was giving out flu shots, but only the kind with the preservative. Next I tried my own allergist. No luck. I made three unproductive calls to various arms of my local health department.

I knew this search was like looking for a syringe in a haystack. If I couldn’t find a doctor who had the thimerosal-free shot, I’d start with the company that made it. I figured they would know who in my area had the shot. I thought I was being clever. But the woman at the manufacturer said she couldn’t reveal any customer lists.

I was exasperated at this point. How in the world were the parents who wanted this shot supposed to find the doctors who had it? An even better question – why didn’t more doctors – all doctors – have the preservative-free version?

I pulled out the yellow pages and started calling pediatric allergists. No one had what I wanted. Except for my final call. This office had the version I was looking for. “But we have to save them for our own patients,” the nurse said.

I wasn’t sure how crazy I was willing to make myself over this. Did I have a right to feel so threatened by thimerosal? It’s not like I had the experience other parents have had of seeing developmental changes in their child after a vaccination. But our experience of seeking a correct diagnosis and trying to manage the behaviors of a difficult child has left me feeling vulnerable.

I talked it over with Dave and in the end we decided to pass on the flu shot for Ari. Yes, her asthma puts her at greater risk of illness and I’m sure her pediatrician would prefer she gets one. I also realize that in her four years she’s already been exposed to thimerosal from other vaccinations. I know it’s not rational. But it’s the only decision I can live with.