After multiple talks with the health department, two trips to our primary care physicians, and countless consultations with pharmacies, nurses and our insurance provider, the challenge of identifying what, where and how to coordinate typhoid shots for the four of us has proved nightmarish. A trip to the travel clinic at our local hospital proved anti-climactic when we were told, upon arriving there, that in addition to the $38 per person administration fee and the $75 per person consulting fee, we owed an additional $110 dollar for what was, in fact, the actual shot itself. By our calculations, $892 for four shots was a little, um, ridiculous. (And no, the insurance company won’t cover it.) So, while I tried to pick my jaw off the floor, and the children played “Mother May I” in the hospital hallway, William took charge.

Turns out there’s an oral vaccine that costs about $50 per person and is said to be equally effective. Problem solved.

Fiona, for her part, is convinced that this turn of events has everything to do with the fact that she made a point of ducking into the hospital chapel to pray. (Mind you, this is not a religious child, but her Geography teacher reported that the typhoid injection was no picnic. He later recanted, saying it was the Diptheria injection that hurt like hell.) Meantime, our girl refuses to take off her hospital bracelet, believing it a totem of her courage in the face of fear, and a testament to the power of prayer. It also goes nicely with her temporary henna tattoos she received as a gift from one of my students, in anticipation of our upcoming trip to India.