What better way to start a Tuesday than live at the wireless and an STI check

I went to the doctors last week, mainly because my gums bleed every time I brush my teeth. And I'm not talking brush them softer then dumbarse, bleeding. I'm talking, I pick my toothbrush up and they start pissing blood all over the place. And this for a girl whose Dad started to hide her toothbrush because she got over the top obsessive about having spotless teeth. Not good. Not handling that shit at all.

And, nota bene, my father didn't hide it because he was a terrible father (he was, irrelevent) but because it developed into an all consuming obsession. I'd brush them for over an hour, then be brushing again an hour later.

Anyway so I went to the doctor, and thought, what the hell, I'm going to man up and ask about the whole STI thing. Because, it's not like I've been entirely chaste. And the propoganda tells me those things are REAL easy to catch and you NEVER know you have them until one day BAM YOU'RE DEAD AND CAN'T HAVE CHILDREN.

He sent me to have a blood/pee test, and I'm sure I've mentioned before I'm a big baby about blood tests. Huge baby. So I worked myself up about it for a week, and then got up one morning to take my friend to her exam and figured. Well fuck it, I'm awake. I'm going to do this. I'm going to be brave! I'm going straight there. And so I did.

Straight to the wrong place after looking for a park for EVER and appreciate that I hadn't been to the toilet yet at all that day. Because I think there is nothing quite so awkward as sitting in a pathology office waiting to need to pee. So, busting to go to the toilet, I race out of the car into the place and the lady at the office looks at my request just long enough to read what it was for and I ASSUME JUDGE ME STOP JUDGING ME EVERYONE. Because, I was not at all in a paranoid place. And then tell me, that I'm in the wrong place and do I know where Trax is? Trax, the railway hotel. Mental flashback: tripping out of a pub, Nell screaming something, the taste of goon. Our college pub crawl. "uhhh...vaguely"

So onto the next place, by this stage my bladder is seriously threatening to give out. Run through the door, trip over a little, catch myself on the counter, throw down the sheet, cringe a second for the judgement that I'm sure exists and blurt out "and I really really need to pee so can I please do the pee test first".

Of course she wasn't at all judgemental, or if she was, she was proffessional about it. But let me just say, that piece of paper said AIDS on it. And WHAT THE FUCK THAT SHIT LOOKS SCARY. I mean I'm about 100 percent certain that I don't have Aids. I feel there is a slight slight slight possibility that I may have chlamydia. There's some statistic about where I live having the highest rates of it outside of Mars or some shit, and you know, all the stuff about not knowing you have it and dead babies. But this is not Bohemia, I'm not in Rent and I certainly don't have any aqquired immune anythings. It does figure that when you ask for an STI check they run everything, I JUST HOPE EVERYONE THAT HAD TO PROCESS THAT PAPER KNOWS THAT.

So as it was, I sat down for the blood test and three seconds later had no idea where I was or what was going on. I epically freaked out and apparently tried to fight off several staff. Talk about making a scene. I was told where I was and figured that that made sense, so I tried to lie there calmly. Focussing on being calm.
And then the nurse casually says "now there's just a bit of blood on your face"
OK. SO.
Number 1: Why? Why is there blood on my face?
Number 2: I am obviously not in the calmest state right now, I also obviously do not react well to blood and such things, hence me passing out and ending up lying on the floor with blood on my face. Is that really the thing you should be saying?

I somehow managed to respond with a weak smile and an 'oh, that's ok'.

Shortly after this I realised that there was a ridiculously cute guy in the room, rued the fact that he probably thought I had AIDS and figured oh what the fuck, I'm covered in blood and have a boyfriend, he can think I have whatever he wants.

But anyway, all's well that ends well. I called Robson to come pick me up and spent the rest of the day napping and not caring about the impending Soccer World cup. And truly, what else would I do with my Tuesday?