I don't know much about shots, except that I used to be petrified of getting them. This fear has faded to a residual mild discomfort, but one that is enhanced when others talk about their dislike of shots. While waiting our turn, a co-worker described how she can actually hear the skin "pop" when the needle penetrates. I just about chickened out, but then remembered what a manly man I am, and rolled up my sleeve with a grin and a steely glint in my eye when my name was called.
The teeny little sting was, of course, almost unnoticeable.
"Oh," the nurse said, "Oops, I hit a muscle there."
"Really? I didn't really feel anything."
"Oh, you will. Sorry."
Two days later, I am realizing that her casual apology isn't cutting it. Holy crap. It feels like someone repeatedly whacked the entire length of my left arm with the flat of a shovel. I expect to see large, purple bruises there, but there's nothing, just a teeny red pinprick where she perforated me. I'm considering getting a little tattoo right on that exact spot, for next year: