Not So Big Boy

(1) Big LITTLE Surpises

I wasn't sure why I felt so nervous sitting here as we took the designation test. It was only six questions long and my answers were obvious. I knew I was a Big. Anyone who knew me knows I would be designated as a Big. Maybe it was the anxiety of possibly getting Middle and having to explain to my parents how I had failed them. Most people now days supported all assignments considering the medical component of things. It's hard to fight the science of genetics, but my parents were very traditional. Every action they had taken in my life was to prepare me to designate as a Big so that I could go on to take over the family business. My Dad was the head of a large oil mining company and expected me to take over for him one day.

I read all the questions and felt awkward answering the Little themed ones. How am I supposed to make a Little choice like preferring a Daddy, or Mommy. So cringy. I just said I don't know for each of those.

As I turned in the paperwork one of the teachers told me to head for medical tents they had set up inside the gym right outside the auditorium where we were given the test. I looked around and saw there were about 200 students. I was glad to be going so quickly.

As I got to the end of the line for the tents the school nurse told me to go to tent 12. I know the tent numbers don't mean anything, but the idea that I was given a "bad" one crossed my mind anyway.

As I entered the tent I saw it had a simple set up. I guess I had thought it would be more... formal? Instead there was just two chairs and some medical equipment.

"Good Morning. Let's see... You are Noah Brooks correct?" The doctor asked, looking at my chart. I nodded. He wrote something down which made me nervous. How could a simple nod be worthy of writing anything down?

"Okay, well. Have a seat here and I'm going to do some simple tests. Nothing you've not seen before. I'll take your blood pressure, heart rate, check your ears and all those kind of things. After that I'll take some blood, and then run through a few questions and you'll be good to go!" He said in a cheery attitude. I nodded again in agreement.

"Not much of a talker are you...." He said as he wrapped my arm with the blood pressure cuff. The way he said it made my anxiety sky rocket. What does that mean, not much of a talker. I just met you!

I looked at the screen to see my results but he noticed and turned it away from me. This dude was getting on my nerves now. Why can't I see my own results? After the machine beeped and the cuff relaxed he wrote down what my blood pressure and heart rate were and then proceeded to poke and prod me looking into my eyes, my ears and my throat.

I couldn't gage what he was thinking about me so I made sure to put on my hardest face I could. There's no way this dudes going to classify me as a freaking middle just because he's an idiot!

"Alright son, I'm going to take some blood now. Don't worry it's not a lot. The needle may hurt just a bit but let me know if it become too painful okay." He said opening a sanitary wipe to clean my forearm. As he wiped it I looked straight forward determined not to make any faces. I really didn't like needles, but I would let this be my downfall.

"Alrighhht, one... two... three.. small pinch.... aaaaand we're done. That's it! Good job." He said pulling the needle back out. I could feel a tear in my eye from the stinging pain of the needle going in and then being pulled back out. I was glad I held it in.

"Okay, so now we're on to the questioning portion. I can tell you're not a big talker but you will have to answer these for me okay." He said grabbing another chart. I looked at him, agitated that he kept commenting on that.

"Hey killer haha, nothing to be upset about. They're just simple questions okay. Alright, so, first one. One a scale of one to ten, how often would you say you experience anxiety, one being none and ten being all the time."