Let's start at the beginning shall we ... I have an overexagerated fear of needles. This phobia is to the point where I can literally scare the crap out of myself to where I hyperventilate, throw up, pass out and so on. So, needless to say tattoos - no no's, shots - no no's, piercings - no no's, etc. Mother is convinced that if you don't get a flu shot, you WILL get the flu. Even if you do get the flu shot, that's supposively "necessary," you could possibly still get sick. It's a lose-lose situation either way I look at it. So in my teen years and protesting everything I didn't like, I refused to get the flu shot anymore. I would not be burdened with going to the doctor and seeing their smug faces and hearing "this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you" bull crap. I was free of this awful occurence for 2 years. then came what I swear was ...the apocalypse. It started off a normal day with the normal routine of getting ready for the day. Wake up, shower, dry hair, straighten hair, put on my war paint and get dressed to kill just to watch tv until someone called to change my awesome plans of watching tv all day. Right before it was dinner time mother asked sister and I to get ready to go. conversation went like this:
Mother: "Get ready, we're leaving."
Me: "Where are we going?"
Mother: "Grandma's. then to dinner."
If this was the case, everything would have been fine. This is what I believed, just a quick trip to grandma's then probably some amazing fast food. Not knowing my cloud of happiness was about to be stabbed in the heart.
Getting in the car thinking nothing of it, pulled out of the driveway, and up the street to get to the main street. Instead of taking a right out of the neighborhood on the way to grandma's house, father took a left. So I spoke up quickly at this and asked "where are we going?" getting nervous and starting to shake, they told me that we were going to go get food first. Being naive I shoved this aside and was like "alright, yum yum first, then grandmas house." Driving down the street, I notice another flaw in the route to food and grandma's house. Instead of turning left where all the food locations were, we took a right. WRONG! something is WRONG! This raised my little red caution flag. So, again, I was like "Where are we going?" in a nervous panic, and they had the nerve to tell me that we were going to a little place over yonder. ????????? Over yonder where, I've grown up here all my life, I know there's nowhere to eat over here. At least, not anymore.
Pulling into the parking lot of terror, I see the sign on the door that they wanted to drag me into. Reading "Kohl's Pharmacy." OH. MY. GOD. like a dog who used to love going for a car ride, getting the first scent of the vets office and peeing all over themselves and become rouge, I was the same. Minus the peeing all over myself. Sister had no idea what was going on and why I was being so spastic. Father opened the left backseat door and mother opened the passenger backseat door trying to lure me either way so they could rip me out of my seat and drag me into the building of doom. Thinking if I sat in the middle of the car that they couldn't get to me, I was seriously mistaken. Father had grabbed my feet pulling me and pealing me away from the leather seating. I was trying to claw my nails in the leather far enough to the point where I could get stuck and their plan would fail, miserably. They finally got me out of the car and were literally carrying me into the building while I was flailing my arms and legs trying to escape their grasps when one of the doctors came from the back and asked me to fill out a form.
I was amazed at how young my doctor was and I didn't want to look like a sissy shit so I bucked up and sat down to fill out my sheet. As I gave it back to him I was thinking to myself, with a doctor like this, it couldn't be that bad. They called me back and I was finally breathing normal and not a pale color anymore, sat down in the chair and awaited my doctor. From the depths of the sheet covered beyond, comes this old man who looked like bigfoot. I asked politely "oh, well where's the doctor from the front that was helping me?" he replied "I am the doctor, he is just an intern." False advertisement!!! I was under false pretenses, and I started hyperventilating again. How could I be calm and focused when I have this animal/man thing ready to stab me in the arm with this sharp pointy deadly object? He told me to breath and count to 3. So as I was told, 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... I quickly looked at him and in a very hateful way and asked if he was going to do it or not, he said "I'm done." I was told he was done before I counted to 1. I felt ridiculously shameful.
HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA
ReplyDeleteFUCKING HILARIOUS!