city clinic.

The man who drew my blood wore a silver-spangled studded black shirt, shined shoes, and had long curling gray hair in a thin ponytail. He said How was your weekend? I said pretty good. I told him I had just moved from Chicago. He said he loved my scarf and I said Thanks as the other nurse was taking my weight and blood pressure. It’s hand dyed I said and realized only later he thought that meant I dyed it myself. He took my blood, told me to make a fist, and tied a rubber tube around my upper arm. I need resistance, he said. Fight with me here, he said so I pulled my arm down to make the tube tighter. Good, he said Now make a fist and hold it. The important thing is to keep breathing. That’s what makes your blood flow. He said You might feel a pinch and I felt my skin pucker around the needle as it went in. He kept talking and I was grateful. He said Every time I go away from San Francisco I love to come back. Even when you fly in and go over the bridge. It’s a bubble. I said, Yeah there’s really nowhere else like this city in the country. I said I left Chicago when it was the same temperature as here and it’s getting colder in Chicago now. Going to start snowing.

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