pin cushion

I am a pin cushion. This is a phrase I heard at least 4 times today.

Because I got 20 allergy shots today. I sat in the allergists office for 8 hours and I got 20 shots, 10 in each arm. Apparently the serum that was injected into my left arm contained mold and grass and the serum they injected into my right arm contained dust mites and dogs. It's weird. And now my right arm has a large welt on it because I am significantly more allergic to dust mites than anything else. And as you can probably imagine, being injected every half an hour into an arm that is increasingly becoming more welted, red, and itchy isn't pleasant. Plus they up the dose slowly throughout the day so my last few shots felt like they were injecting me with acid.

But like most things in life, it wasn't as bad as other things. Like getting shots into your gums. That shit hurts worse. Or... having teeth pulled. That's way more unpleasant. Having a mound of fire ants crawl onto your feet and then bite you repeatedly. Cutting off the tips of your fingers with a ceramic knife while attempting to slice pickles and getting pickle juice in your wounds. Irukandji venom? I've experienced everything except the last thing so I can assure you that all hurts a bit worse than getting 20 allergy shots.

But sitting in a doctors office all day is really interesting. I learned a few things, like mainly I learned that kids do not like shots. They do not like waiting to get shots and often begin to cry, mope, and scream before the shot is even close to beginning. Then when they are actually getting the shot, they really hate that. They begin to scream and cannot be consoled, no matter what their mother promises or the nurse says. I heard mothers promise pizza, games, naps, sponge-bob and chocolate banana milkshakes, and none of this consoled the children. Even after the shot was long over the children would begin to recall the whole humiliation of getting a shot and still they wept. One little girl tried to reason with her mom when the time came for the shot,"Mom, I don't want to do this. I really don't. Mom, can we not do this? I... I really don't... Mom? Moooooooommmmm?" And then she screamed and screamed.

But I finished a book. And afterwords I got a orange creamslush, because I was good and didn't scream or cry.

Now I'm going to bed, hopefully to dream of riding a Gypsy Electra Cruiser:

If I had 500 bucks...