The doctors office is supposed to be a safe place that's purpose is to make you feel better. I would imagine that most kids my age still have an issue with the doctor because when your are young, the tendency to be afraid is much greater. So walking into a small room that is too cold and then being stabbed with a needle doesn't leave a great impression on a small child.
When I walked in that white-walled room, nothing had changed. Maybe the room seemed a little smaller, but my fear remained constant.
When my physical was done, I made the mistake of thinking I was safe. My doctor double checked his handy-dandy folder and it turns out that I needed a shot.
I tried so desperately to talk my way out of it. I bribed the nurse, I told them I was allergic to shots... But apparently the first one isn't legal, and I'm not allergic to shots. I knew it was coming. My dad handed my the New York Times and told me to do the crossword, as if I'm smart enough to do the crossword. Good one Gary. I'm sweating bullets at this point, and I feel lightheaded. The nurse probably thought I was having a schizophrenic attack because I kept grabbing her and yelling things that sounded like nonsense.
After doing everything except a commiting a felony to stop the needle going into my arm, it happened. After calming down, I went outside to claim my princess stickers.
The sticker tray said take one, but I took two. Take THAT doctors office.
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