The nurse who gave me my shots for tropical diseases last time looked a lot like Hillary Clinton, which is to say it’s the sort of face a train would take a dirt road to avoid. For some reason, it’s important to me that the nurse that shoots the poison into my veins to generate additional immunity, not remind me of a twisted actress in a bad episode of the Twilight Zone.
For the last thirty years, my work has taken me to parts of the world where additional immunity to local bacteria and viruses is required. Monday, I go to update my shots. I’m not a cry-baby when it comes to shots and the sketch of the fetish-nurse below is more or less who I would prefer to inject me. Sadly, reality falls far short of my nurse fantasy.