So, this past weekend was really fun- great Friday night, hilarious Saturday night, lovely Sunday- I could use a volume of positive adjectives to describe the weekend really.
However, every rose has its thorn, as they say (someone says that right??) and mine was in the form of Saturday morning at the travel doctor.
First of all, I hate going to the doctor with the explicit purpose of getting a needle. Call me a baby if you will but needles and me are not friends- not even distant acquaintances- I only hate them and no lollypop makes them better.
But, alas, I knew I needed a Typhoid shot so feet-a-draggin I walked into the office at 9am ready to be pricked.
To my horror, I discovered that not only did I need Typhoid but also 2 other needles- that is 3 in total (I am good at math right?). 3!!!!!!!
So after the nurse gave our consultation aka. sentence to pain- we were asked to wait to meet the doctor. I spent that entire 10 minutes shitting bricks- could of built a small house yo. All the while of course with my husband hissing in my ear to stop being such a big poonany- thank.you.husband.
So, doctor calls us in and I am met with this giant man (not unlike Jabba the hut) sitting behind a huge desk, breathing heavy as if he is at Pancers eating an extra fatty corned beef tapping his sausage like fingers on our files while sweat begins to form small droplets on his half balding for-sure receding hairline. If you could picture a greasy accountant or private eye you would find in the classifieds, multiply by 100.
Never has a doctor been so appealing to me than one who looks like he would eat me for an appetizer.
This man just freaked us both right out- he basically didn't move at all in our "consultation" having his secretary write out the prescriptions which she then passed to him for his slovenly signature. He signed while the skin under his chins jiggled at the slight movement of the pen scrawling his name on the papers.
After a "thorough" 5 minutes we were dismissed and asked to wait for our shots- in the meantime, we got a bunch of prescriptions and the go ahead for 3 needles- 5 minutes, to me, doesn't seem like a sufficient amount of time to really be sure about the necessity of all said medicines- but, hey, if it says Doctor in front of your name, you must be right- right?
So about 3 seconds later we are being escorted by the original nurse to the back of the office for our shots. Enter Boris, the barely English speaking Russian shot administrator who guides us into the "examination room"- also known as the office in the back with a bookshelf of reading including Excel 2003 For Dummies. Nothing says needle safety like having your set of needles given to you while you sit on top of a desk next to a computer.
Now, bravery isn't my strong suit but I would say that me and my lollypop (oh ya, I still took one even though I am not 4- big whoop, wanna fight about it?) really held strong while my arm was violated over and over.
We finished up- bid our Russian torturer a thank you and ran out the door agreeing that this was by far one of the more odd places we had ever visited. Thank gosh for an afternoon of board games store and triple cream brie to numb the pain*
*pain was not actually numbed- I have slept like a mummy for the past 2 nights and quietly barf every time someone touches either arm- because, oh ya, he split them up into both arms- one would just not suffice this mad man.
Sketchy doctors- horray!
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