I was to be TB tested.
Now, I know some of you are rolling your eyes and snarfing into your cookie-ensconced hand but I ask you to see it from MY point of view: THERE'S A FRICKIN' NEEDLE INVOLVED!
"It's no big deal, they just inject you with some stuff and then you turn into an insect like that Gregor guy or become the guy from the Jurassic Park movie and it's no big deal!" I can't verify that this is what was exactly said as the room started spinning after my co-worker said the word "inject."
My child-hood was a horrendous mass of lab coats and needles so my fear of being poked is deep-rooted and very much real. However, this means little to the nurse in my building. Nor did it mean much to her friend who was sitting, cross-legged - with one leg - in the chair in front of her desk.
"I don't like needles," I said as I pulled up a chair. "I don't like needles." I repeated as she smiled and waved the thing in front of me like it was a baton with streamers.
"That's nothing!" The man in the chair spoke up as he watched her unwrap the instruments of torture. "I've had more needles in me than you can imagine!" He leaned back in his chair and put a hand on his metal leg for emphasis.
"I. AM. SQUEAMISH!" I repeated, loudly. I picked up a paper and fanned myself as I felt a pinch on the inside of my arm. "SQUEAMISH!" He cackled and my co-worker appeared in the doorway looking quite the anxious little one.
"Do I need to carry you back to the office?" She asked - half-kidding.
"No," I said, sniffing and holding my alcohol pad on my arm. "I'll be fine..."
So far my little dot is red, bruised-looking and kinda bubbly.
I think I may have the TB!
hee hee Just kidding! I'm fine and dandy! Really! No more tests need to be performed on me today. Fine! I'M FINE!!! :)