The nurse gives me a perfunctory smile, flicks the needle with her forefinger, and counts backward from three.
“Here it goes,” she says and squeezes the syringe into my left arm and another into the right. I feel its viscous liquid travel under my flesh and into my bloodstream. A swell appears on each arm like little burning mountains.
“I’ll see you back in two weeks,” she says with a perfunctory smile.
I take the pain in stride knowing that no tree, grass, or mold allergies can touch me now.