Needle Me

Yesterday was flu shot day at work so, working on the premise that I'd feel like a dick if I passed up the opportunity for a free shot and later got flu, I duly got in line and got myself injected. The worst part was having to take off my shirt, because there's no way I could roll the sleeve up far enough; then I had to undo my pants to get it back in again, which provides a little too much opportunity for other things to unexpectedly fall out. Wouldn't that be a great way to make a name for myself at the office?

I have to say that the nurse who administered the flu shot this year was the best I've ever seen, or should I say felt. I hardly even noticed the jab. Contrast this with some shots I've had in the past where the nurse modeled her technique on a javelin thrower, complete with run-up. When you apply for a green card there's a list of shots that you have to get, so you can end up like a pin cushion. On top of that there's a mandatory blood test. You don't get to have this done at your local testing clinic, or any other sensible location though. No, the INS insists that you get the test at the INS-designated facility in your area. Fair enough I suppose - cuts down on the risk of fraud.

Turns out that the facility in St.Louis was in a tall building in Clayton so I showed up on the appointed day, with spouse, for a blood test. The fat cow who took my blood clearly did very little else, so you'd have thought that she'd have developed outstanding technique. And it's not like I have those hard-to-find veins either - they're big, blue and sticking up, almost begging for a needle. But this useless woman still managed to give me the most badly executed and painful blood-drawing of my life. It was like a spear-fisherman standing in the lake, attempting to impale a trout with a sharpened stick.

The blood test is basically to check for one thing - HIV. While we sat in reception, waiting for some paperwork, I glanced around at the other people seated there. Then I picked up a card on the reception counter and discovered that this was no ordinary clinic; this was an STD clinic. INS blood tests were clearly just a sideline, presumably because they were set up to do lots of HIV tests. I looked around at the other people again, this time mentally cataloging their potential sexual diseases. That man over there - looks like the clap to me. Or maybe syphilis. I understand there's a lot of that about these days. Eventually we left, not pausing on the way out to use the drinking fountain.

Anyway, today Mrs.Bison has a reaction to the flu vaccine, resulting in her wandering around complaining continually about her painful, swollen arm. I have no such reaction, and am therefore attempting to be at least mildly sympathetic. However it just goes to show that life isn't fair. If it was, I'd be entitled to fifteen minutes in a private room with that STD nurse and a sharpened stick. "Now just relax. You'll feel a slight scratch. Bitch."


Copyright 2007 Edward Bison