Is that a vanity
license plate, or are you just happy to see me?
Honestly, you can’t
make this stuff up.
Here it is,
Monday morning, and I’m off to the local hospital for a medical scan. The
doctor’s order calls for IV contrast.
So, no big deal.
I’ve had that a couple dozen times before.
I pull into the
parking lot, and a grey minivan
cuts
right in front of me. Just then, I happened to notice the license plate:
### JAB
The first three were
numbers, but it’s probably illegal (or at least unwise) for me to post the
whole license number.
The plate was
from another state, which I won’t name, except to say that it rhymes with “will
annoy” (Sorry, had to. It’s a border thing.) And I hate to
poke fun, but the plate may or may not have been stamped by a
former Governor.
Maybe that’s
beside the point.
I just had to
wonder whether the minivan belonged to the phlebotomist, nurse, or medical
student who would be administering my intravenous hookup.
As it turned out,
the one doing the needlework was most
likely a first-timer or a trainee, based on the number of jabs she took to set things up in my arm. (I tried hard to be brave
and stoic, as much as it hurt.) Let's just say she's likely to become sharper at it with practice.
On the bright
side, I’m kind of glad it’s a chillier day, so I won’t have to roll my sleeves
up for my afternoon conference. The folks I’m meeting could jump to all sorts
of conclusions, based on the needle
tracks I’m now sporting. But I’m leery of taking a stab at any of that.
Image/s: Adapted from public domain artwork
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