Every night-or maybe it's even twice during the night-a little nurse girl would come around. She'd say, Miss Farrell? And I'd say: Oughsiglkimehef? She'd say: It's time for your Hepburn shot. Which arm would you like to get the shot in? And I'd say, hooilsihing. Because A) I was sleeping and B) The answer is neither one. Duh.
But I'm home now and I thought hey, time to check out my Hepburn shot-thinking it was gonna at LEAST resemble some Breakfast at Tiffany's if not some stylish African Queen.