Shapeshifting

location: museum

mood: cheerful

music: Circa Survive

Yesterday I went to St. Francis Hospital for a checkup. And I was talking to my doctor when I remembered a conversation that the boyfriend and I had a few days ago. He wants to get tested and I realized that that was a reeaalllyy good idea. I've been with a few guys and even thoogh I'm a saftey gal, it never hurt to check. I'm going with him to a clinic in Suffolk when he gets his tests done. 
So, the doc decided that i needed to head down to the lab immediatly. And I was suprised at how well I did. At first the tech kept poking the needle in the wrong place. and the vein kept jumping. It reminded me of Dr. Faustus in a roundabout way. But then they tried the other arm and I couldn't look away as they drew two vials of blood from the inside of my arm. 
And now there is a huge blue bruise atleast three incles by four inches and it hurts to stretch it out. Both pin pricks are still there. But I'm glad I've been tested for all of those nasty little diseases. I'm almost one hundred percent sure there is nothing there, but I'm glad i did it. It was a gesture. Not only to him but to myself. I'll take the bruised arm and the bruised ago i have from the walk of shame. Everyone knows why you walk down that hall. Everyone knows when they see you what you've been tested for and they shake their heads and cross their chests and hope thier children will be nothing like me. 
But I decided that I didn't care. I picked up my Chuck Klosterman novel and waited for a second consultation, ignoring the flourescent lights and smiling because I knew I did the right thing.
Getting tested is weirdly liberating. Don't ask why, I don't know.