Two weeks ago, Rebecca had told me she would be on vacation this visit for my injection. She had told me not to fret as the other nurses would take good care of me. I had forgotten and my hopes sunk to the floor when Dee Dee informed me that it would be awhile before a nurse came available. The lobby soon began to fill up making me nervous – all of these coughing, sniffling, sickly people.
“Rebecca won’t let you get your seat warm before she calls you back,” Dee Dee told me with a smile and a chuckle.
I laughed back weakly in agreement.
“Rebecca spoils me rotten,” I told Dee Dee in response.
The nurse practitioner in residence, Leigh Anne, finally stuck her head out the office door and welcomed me back. Leigh Anne is so very sweet and wanted me to be and feel comfortable. She’s only administered my injection one time before.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” she told me with a warm but worried smile.
You could see the worry furrows in her forehead form.
“I’m fine,” I promised her. “I’ve been doing this for ten years.”
They always try to use the short needle and are surprised when I insist on the 3 inch needle.
“The short one is for the deltoid muscle,” I told her. “The longest one is for the gluteal muscle.”
“We need to get that medicine deep as we can into my butt muscle,” I then told her in layman terms.
“What took you so long?” my father asked upon my arrival back at the pharmacy. “I was beginning to worry you drove back home and got back in the bed.”
“I had to wait in the lobby for 30 minutes,” I replied to my father. “Rebecca is on vacation.”
“I was about to call down there and see what was happening,” my father said dotingly.
The Hard Sell…
Dad and I both spent $95 dollars on our groceries last night. I spent $10 dollars on chicken salad alone. I also spent $5 more dollars on that decadently delicious Qui French style yogurt. My biggest expense was car care products as I washed my car the other day and I wanted it to look nice. Tire slick, trim finish, etc.
“I can’t say anything to you about it as I am just as bad in what I spent,” my father told me consoling me about the lofty price.
“Damn,” I said as we escaped the jaws of Kroger. “I forgot my journal writing sodas.”
“Here’s $5,” my father told me. “Go through self checkout and buy them really quick.”
We were headed to our cars when a strange, rail thin black fellow with a wandering eye approached us.
“Excuse me sir!” he kept saying as we kept walking. “Excuse me!”
He hit my father up for $20 dollars very aggressively and menacingly getting right in his face.
“I just want a sandwich from the deli and a soda,” he told us.
“First, back away from me. Let me finish loading my groceries into my car and I will go buy you a sandwich and a drink,” my father told him.
Well, he didn’t like that one bit and just walked off without saying one more thing.
