I'm participating in an H1N1 vaccine study which aims to prove that a smaller dose of vaccine, when administered along with a type of protein that helps the body build up its immune system, works just as well as a full dose. I don't know if I'm in the treatment or control group, but the P-Dawg assures me that I did get some amount of FDA approved H1N1 vaccine.
And all I had to do was sign a fifteen page release form, obtain a physical, take a pregnancy test, disclose what form of birth control I'm using, promise not to get knocked up in the next year, have three vials of blood drawn and swear to return every month for the next six months to have it drawn again, take my temperature every night for the next week, and agree to keep a "flu journal" in the event I get sick.
Plus, I get paid three hundred smackers for my trouble. Which won't help me when I'm dead, but will buy me several dinners out.
I got vaccinated yesterday morning, and last night I
"P-Dawg, I feel kind of crappy. How soon would a person know if she was coming down with Guillain-Barré Syndrome?"
"About two to six weeks, I guess. Are you planning on getting Guillain-Barré?"
I made him promise that if I didn't wake up the next morning, he'd burn my diaries and go through my blog to delete any swear words or references to my mother, and then I went up to bed.
This morning I feel fine. You can thank me next year, when there's enough vaccine to go around as a direct result of my selfless dedication to medical research.
(That, or lay flowers on my grave. No carnations, please.)
