Snots (the title was supposed to be "shots", but I liked the typo better)

I've had my call for over 3 months, and I put off getting my mission immunizations till now. 2 weeks before leaving. After paying 200 dollars at the health department to get shot up because they don't take our insurance, I was called into a lovely little torture chamber. What? No foldable bed with the noisy butcher paper to lay on? All there was for me to place my bottom on was a little black chair that had wheels on it. I could picture it now - the foretaste of my doom too much handle and I face plant on the floor. Or maybe ( if I have enough self control to not pass out), the nurse will lean in to poke my mushy skin...but can't find my flesh because I'd rolled away and out the door in my rolly chair...

Neither of these happened, instead as I sat there the nurse asked if I was okay, and commented on my skin color (no, she wasn't racist, I was just losing all color). My feeble response was "I just dislike shots." I wasn't surprised when my voice cracked from the strain of holding back what probably would have been a sob if my pride didn't get the better of me. The nurses reaction was simple. She stood up and grabbed a juice box from the fridge. She handed me the juice and a smile. Whether it was for comfort, or to better my chances of not passing out, I don't know. But I liked it. However, my comfort was shattered by three consecutive stabs to my arm. And heart. I felt betrayed, like a kid who is decoyed into doing something they didn't want to do. But what's done is done, and at least I wont get terribly ill while in a foreign country, right?