Читать книгу Life Is a 4-Letter Word - David A. Levy - Страница 11

The Shot

I can still remember the antiseptic smell of the doctor’s office and the feel of the cold metal examination table underneath my naked six-year-old legs. My white jockey shorts provided the only shroud of protection and dignity I had left, barely buffering me from utter humiliation. My mom sat close by, patient but helpless.

Of course, every kid hates shots. But I especially hated shots. The mere thought of that cold, shiny, spiky tool of torture nearly paralyzed me with terror. But I was also a very verbal kid. And when I was anxious, I’d talk. A lot. It was my best defense — in fact, frequently my only defense.

The nurse’s name was Gabe. I know that because I can vividly picture that ominous name embroidered in dark red stitching on her crisp white uniform. Outside of the office, Gabe was probably a decent enough woman. But when armed with that wicked weapon, Nurse Gabe was nothing more to me than a heartless bureaucrat, whose only function was to inflict her merciless will on me before moving on to the next hapless child.

The door flung open with a thud, followed by Nurse Gabe, holding The Shot with the nonchalance of a mailman merely delivering the next package. Instantly, I felt that familiar raw panic coldly surging through my tiny veins. She made her approach, ready to stab me with her bayonet. I counter-attacked with a barrage of questions: “No, wait! What kind of shot is it? Wait! Is it a booster shot? Wait, wait! Is it a tetanus shot?” Nurse Gabe turned to me and said simply but firmly: “David, you can ask me all the questions you want. But you’re going to get the shot.”

She had me. Checkmate. I realized there was nothing more I could do or say. I had run out of escape routes. I reluctantly offered her my arm, wrenched my head away, scrunched my eyes, held my breath, and prayed it would be over quickly…which, to my surprise, it actually was.

Don’t get me wrong, it was really bad. But not nearly as bad as the gut-wrenching agony of all that waiting. When there’s no getting around something, it’s best just to go through it. And when it’s inevitable, the sooner the better.