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Hospital scent overwhelmed his nostrils as he waited for his turn. A scratch from a rusted surface forced the blood dripping out of his forearms, leading to this unpleasant visit.
After enduring a 15 minutes wait, he was called inside. Even though on the verge of touching 30 now, his heart still trembled at the sight of the deadly syringe.
‘Hands or back’, the nurse asked his preference putting him into a state of temporary shame and timidity.
He continued listening, hoping for a third option; any substitute for injection would do, his mind screamed inside his head.
Stretching his hand, he showed where the needle should go. A dab of alcohol stirred goosebumps on the entire body, surprising even the nurse.
‘It’s not an injection,’ she whispered.
Nodding his head, he continued looking at the floor, the spine-chilling shadow of the nurse hand squirting liquid off the nozzle reflected on the wall.
His heart began pounding heavily as if about to explode, unable to control his fear.
Just the thought of a needle piercing the skin induced distressing fear as he contemplated abandoning the idea of this inoculation altogether.
Breathing turned into wheezing, the needle was getting closer, eyes brusquely closed themselves expecting the worst, the body suddenly turned stiff, the face lost its colour, only the expected pain of getting pierced overwhelming his whole mind.
Seconds felt like hours as his eyes continued staring at the dark inside. How much more time, he thought when a loud voice broke his sudden trance.
‘It’s done’ the words tasted sweeter than honey.
He asked to confirm again.
‘Yes’ came the reply, with a request to continue holding the alcohol dripped cotton for some more time.
He happily complied.
‘You are the best’ he complimented before leaving the room, prompting a smile on her tired face.
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