A Day of Snow and Shots

Thursday was a first on two fronts.

One, it was seriously snowing, in droves and with a magnitude unseen before, since December 2005. The flurries fell from the sky during mid-morning and continued up to 3 in the afternoon. In fact, late 2005 was the last time the snow reached a record level, in more than 20 years.

I was reeling by the snow shower, skittishly coming and going from our living room's windowsill. To say the least, I was overcome with feelings of nostalgia - the gentle howling sound from the snowfall and the crisp wintry air ensuing from the dropping temperature - which transported me back to the first time I saw a snow-covered horizon as far as the eyes could see. The thrill is simply indescribable.

Two, we would have our first appointment with the healthcare center for Sadia's checkup at 2:30pm. When the snow refused to let up by 1pm, my excitement flipped to a feeling of concern. The center is only accessible by bus in this cold climate. Although the bus depot is nearby our place, trekking down in the middle of a snowfall must not be practical for Sadia. In the end, we decided to bundle Sadia (who had already fallen asleep) in a warm bodysuit (thanks Tita!).

The designated bus arrived conveniently a few minutes after we took shelter at our route's 'bus halte'. In less than 5 minutes, we made it to our stop and treaded carefully on the snow-covered side pavements. The snowy precipitation had tapered off by this time. The walk to the center might be short but it reverberated with footsteps (with proper traction of course!) from our past. Back to a place where we ambled pensively in the vast winter wonderland that epitomises the Mid-West.

At the center, we met with a middle-aged lady called Lisabeth, the receptionist cum clerk who asked us to undress Sadia for weighing. Sadia woke up promptly upon hearing the cries of two babies who were being dressed up respectively by their harried-looking caregivers. Still groggy, she was at first confused by the new environment but gradually warmed up by the sight of other babies. Other caregivers (and babies in tow) came in succession shortly after us.

We had thought that Sadia was to be dressed down from her winter clothes but Lisabeth clarified that Sadia must be in her birthday suit! Okay, we were not prepared for that at all. Luckily, we brought a large shawl - which also doubled up as a cozy muffler - to cover Sadia before she is called to the weighing scale. (Other people brought fancy baby fleece robes - how cute!)

Since she was big enough, Lisabeth directed us to put her into a sitting position on the scale. She declared the reading: 7 kilos and 100 grams. What?!!

"7.1 kg? Are you sure?," I exclaimed, which was meant for my hearing and not for Lisabeth who, according to my husband, looked at me askance. I had looked forward to hearing 9kg being proclaimed but it didn't happen. My baby is certifiably a small petite tot. ;-) (Though her temperament doesn't match her size in the very least!)

After measuring her length and head circumference, she asked us to only put the diaper on Sadia. Again, we gingerly wrapped her in the deceptively (blue) paisley shawl. On hindsight, the complete undressing aids the staff by checking for bruises or other visible physical abnormalities.

We were then ushered to a smaller room by the nurse-on-duty, Wendy, who is by the way, very friendly, informative and helpful with our slew of questions (okay, maybe MY slew of questions). She queried, checked and noted down Sadia's record of previous vaccinations before leaving the room to confer with the doctor-on-duty for the next course of vaccination.

Wildly curious with the interesting toys in the nurse's room, Sadia verbalised loudly and gestured to the eye-catching trinkets. She even brought some out from the big nursery cum waiting room that we were from! By the time Wendy came back, Sadia's hands were full with her new gadgets. The newfound fixation was apropos since Wendy was going to administer the shot, which Sadia was supposed to have six months after the last one. In other words, we were late.

It is interesting that in the Netherlands, the nurse will give the jab while the baby is sitting down on the caregiver's lap. That was what exactly happened to Sadia who, absorbed with her new toy, automatically let out a small, almost inaudible, cry as soon as the needle pricked her left thigh. Funnily, she resumed playing intently with those thingamajigs as if the pain she felt was fleeting. Brave girl she is!

We then set a doctor's appointment for her next vaccination scheduled during her 14-month checkup. Sadia was stoked with the presence of another infant in the waiting room and demanded to be released on the floor with her. The girl's blue eyes were transfixed on Sadia but all Sadia wanted to do was to touch her! I was afraid she might yank the girl's clothes or pull her hair. Sadia's strong grip and pinches are legendary. She had pinched hard one side of her cousin's - Zahra - cheek, thus causing the affected area to be swollen red for days! Poor Zahra!


As we stepped outside the center, the snow already turned into sleet! Most of the snow on the pavements was now slushy. We finally reached home at 4pm and rushed to take photos before the beautiful white blanket evaporated. By nighttime, all the snow had (again) disappeared from rooftops, trees, streets and on top of parked automobiles by the canals.

Our experience with the Dutch's healthcare services ended on two notes:
1) Sadia's growth development came at the lowest (possible) percentile on the Dutch's infant growth chart (as expected!)!
2) We have to find and thereon register with a family doctor who will in turn, be in charge of tending to a host of physical ailments. Else, for emergency or chronic cases, we can always go to the Dutch hospital.