Blogging my visit to the doctor's

Since the first month of Health here is free, my mother, in true Desi spirit, wasted no time at all in carting me and my perfectly healthy siblings to the doctor's. I should explain at this point that I have always been unnaturally afraid of doctors and places that smell like something from a horror movie, so this visit was particularly cruel on my mother's part. It was, needless to say, horrible. And no, I am not going to cut my mom some slack just because some random stork decided to throw my newborn, white blanket-enclosed baby body into her lap. But I digress. The doctor's appointment was at 3:30 PM. Here's how it went:


3:32 p.m. - I rush into the reception, vaguely registering the lime green baby chairs in the waiting area and the receptionist's neck tattoo. Get informed that the doctor is busy.

3:33 p.m.- I try sitting in aforementioned baby chair.

3:40 p.m. - I spot someone about to come in through the tinted glass door. I cannot at this point tell if they are hot or not. Get off the baby chair and hurriedly sit on grown-up sofa.

3:41 p.m. - Strike a I'm-so-bored-but-still-oh-so-hot pose. Dude comes in the door. He is so not hot. Go back to staring gormlessly into space.

3:50 p.m. - Receptionist calls me to the dreaded inner offices. To distract myself, I try to figure out what her neck tattoo is. It is a heart. She sees me looking and gives me weird looks.

3:51 p.m. - A nurse tells me to take off my boots. I am confused. What are they doing in here? Strip club? Shoe smuggling? She makes me get on a weighing scale. Oh.

3:57 p.m. - My height has been recorded, my temperature taken. I am now ready for the doctor. I cannot help but feel like one of those sacrifice victims, who were dressed up and fed and left on an altar just moments before their still beating hearts were plucked out from their bodies.

4:00 p.m. - I wish I hadn't thought of the heart plucking thing. I can hear the doctor approaching. I imagine her having huge snake-like fangs with saliva dripping off them. This is bad.

4:00:49 p.m. - The doctor is Desi too! This is really bad.

4:03 p.m. - The doctor cheerfully informs me I need two shots. I look at her with hate-filled eyes. Boy, if looks could kill. She pretends not to notice, and tells a nurse to get the injections.

4:04 p.m. - I swallow my pride and ask for my mom.

4:10 p.m. - The nurse comes in. I close my eyes. This is it...

4:11 p.m. - Hey, that wasn't so bad! I smile.

4:11:32 p.m. - I faint.

4:14 p.m. - I register the patheticness of the fact that I fainted.

4:15 p.m - How do I put this? I meet the Doritos I ate for lunch for a second time.

4:25 p.m. - It takes me ten minutes to convince everyone in the room I am not about to die (or meet my Doritos for a third time)

4:27 p.m. - I walk outside, where the receptionist gives me extra candy, and the nurse pats me on the back for being "so, so brave."

4:28 p.m. - The doctor tries to console me by saying that we will meet again. Really, lady? I don't think so. I look at my mom with pitiful eyes. She gets me more candy and whisks me out of the clinic.


Well, at least it looks like I won't be going back to that place any time soon.