I swallow hard as I walk up to the metal table.
"Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic." I tell myself repeatedly. I take a deep breath and sit down on the table. White leather straps hook over my arms and ankles, pinning me to the table.
A man with a white coat comes into the room through a door on my right.
He walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a black container and unzips it. I swallow hard when I see the syringes lined up like little soldiers. I had never really been a fan of needles, but today I was going to have to suck it up.
"Ready?" He says.
I nod and say, "ready." My voice comes out a lot higher than I would like it to.
I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the worst.
He gently inserts the needle into my left forearm. It stings a little, but I don't notice. I'm too worried about what I'll see next.
