A Haiku for Boyfriend

I'm really starting to get into writing these haikus. They're not too hard.

Dear Boyfriend, my Love,

Don't talk about the needle.

Unless you want puke.

This was inspired by my lovely experience at the doctor's office this morning when I went to go get my Band unfilled.

I went there looking very nice. I had on my makeup and my hair looked awesome, if I do say so myself. I have on a blouse today with French cuffs. It's cleaned and ironed. My teeth were clean too.

Having my Band unfilled entails having a very long needle inserted into my abdomen. It's no big deal, except that I am a sissy. It's also no big deal if they don't miss the port. If the doctor happens to hit muscle, that's really, really, really gonna hurt. He did that a couple of times. Just as my pain tolerance was running out, we gave up.

I think the most memorable part of the whole experience was probably laying on the table with my flab exposed, looking up at Boyfriend, whose hand I was crushing, I mean holding, and then suddenly watching Boyfriend's eyes turn into saucers and a look of fear and revulsion flash across his face. I guess you could call it 'flashing across his face' but only if you define a 'flash' as a 2-minute period.

When we left, I looked a little green around the gills.

I turned a little greener and was tempted to roll down my window on the way home. Another thing that occurred to me was to possibly lean over and place my head in Boyfriend's lap so the products of my entrails could hit the most deserving person as Boyfriend went on and on and on about the huge, long needle and the fact that it kept going in and out, in and out of my abdomen. But I dismissed that. I would probably have had to clean it up myself, as Boyfriend is lazy. Ummm, I meant to say that Boyfriend is all about personal responsibility. Yeah, that's it.

Another Haiku that could fit this situation is this:

Needle goes in, out.

I look green around the gills.

Boyfriend wants vomit?