Shots

We made an appointment with the County Health Department. We'd read several books about what to do to prepare for travel to China. Ruth called the County to set up an appointment. We could have gone to our doctor but we would have paid more. Besides, we are saving to go to China. Maybe I hadn't mentioned that? The night before, on a Sunday, we got a call from the office to remind us of our appointment. Nice touch, and from the County Health Department! Who would have thunk it? We walked in through the heavy door with the mesh wire glass sidelight. The lady in her 60s handed us a questionnaire of 20 questions. We filled out the paperwork using little clipboards. You know, the ones with the pens attached by string. I never understood this. Who wants to steal a 5 cent Bic pen? Anyway, after the forms, some heavyset lady asked us what shots we wanted. It's kind of like a bar. You tell the bartender what you want, and she mixes it up, right there, while you wait. As she typed our answers into her flat-panel screen, I glanced around her office. She had a picture displayed of her young boy eating hot wings. It was out of focus and the details of his face were blown out by a harsh flash. One of the signs on her desk read: "I'm here until I win the lottery." Another sign on the refrigerator said: "Do not unplug. Immunizations inside." She talked like an army drill sergeant and I thought she was going to ask me to drop and do some pushups for her. She was a no-nonsense lady and didn't smile much, so I tried to make her smile just for fun. It's just a natural tendency I have to lighten the atmosphere. I made some comment about her boy: "Looks like a hot wing lover." And she smiled. She had the last laugh because she convinced us to get more shots than we wanted. Ouch. Can't you just mix it all up and give it to me once? Do you need to puncture BOTH arms? I think she gets some sadistic pleasure by making me her pin cushion. Seriously, I think it takes a certain kind of person to administer diseases into others through an implement of pain. "Power Monger!" "Control Freak!" (I only said this under my breath after I left because I didn't want to upset her while she still had the implement of torture in her hand.) Here's the worst part, the shots come in sequences. We have to get another one when we come back from China! I forgot to get a picture of me getting the shots with my eyes closed. It was scary. ...dave If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster. -Isaac Asimov