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, , , , , , , | Healthy | September 18, 2022

When I was perhaps five years old, I received a vaccination. I don’t remember what for; I just remember getting an injection in my shoulder that left my arm sore and weak.

Later that day, my parents needed to be out of the house, so my older brother and I were being looked after by a babysitter.

Babysitter: “Do you two want to play a game of hide-and-seek?”

We very enthusiastically agreed.

I still remember the perfect hiding spot I found. In my dad’s bedroom, he had a desk pushed into the closet. Beside the desk, around the corner from the doors, there was this little empty space. Part of it was taken up by a suitcase, but the other part was the exact perfect size for a five-year-old to squeeze into and curl up in.

I won that round, giggling as I heard my brother and the babysitter searching through the entire house for me. Eventually, they gave up.

Babysitter: “Okay, [My Name]! Come on out!”

There was my cue to abandon my spot and stroll out gloating.

One problem: thanks to my vaccination, my shoulder was “compromised”, and I couldn’t make my arm support my weight enough to climb out. I tried, repeatedly, but in the end… I had to call for help. My babysitter had to lift me out, my perfect hidey-hole was discovered, and I could never use it again.

I’m still a bit lowkey bitter about that, almost thirty years later.

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