S.T.I.C.K.E.R.S. - of two kinds. October 28, 2006

I believe it was last Ramadhan that Dr. Ahmed recommended that I get blood work done to check my cholesteral. Alhamdulillah, a year later, I finally made it. After plotting and scheming, I got up enough courage to try and do it with the kids. I grabed exactly 3, hard candies put them in my purse and packed everyone in the Outback. Labcorp - right directly accross the street from the hospital. WRONG. After a near panic attack and kids wanting to know why we are driving in circles, in and out of the car twice, I decided to make things easy for myself and patron the one on Rt 1. Of course! I have been there, before. Once in the room and candy poped in two mouths - the practioner kept checking the door. Finally, she announced that it was a training day and a supervisor had to observe. I asked her to clothes the door so that I could flip and immediatly, the door swung open again - “what are you doing? you have to wait until I come, don’t do anything yet,” said a rather gruff female voice. After a minute or two, the door swung open again and 3 women entered. Two in scrubs and the other, older in plain clothes. We started as usual, the giant rubberband - squeezing my popeye arms. Now started the interruptions, not from my kids, but from the one in plain clothes, the supervisor. She was an older women, possibly in her 60’s (women of color tend to age well), wearing brown slacks, a diamond cross, with a glossy jet black wig that sort of ressembled a tamed Ronald McDonold wig. It was what my dad used to call a “Battle Axe.” We had a few in our family, those Jocelyn Elder types, but this one was rather slender and short. She was making the phelbologist nervous. She started and the needle came out. Then the next girl was given a turn on my other arm. Alhamdulillah, she was quick and way more confident. After being bandaged - said to the technician, “my kids are expecting S.T.I.C.K.E.R.S.” The battle axe asked, “is that some kind of code or something?” Everyone else knew what I had said. Ah no, it is Momlish for , Stickers. Enough said.