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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I have a fun story for you.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I was surfing around on the internet, found this medical study of some kind that was being done by some grad student or other, volunteers needed, so… being the dumb trusting sort, I signed up. A few days later, at my door shows a young woman dressed as Gunilla Goodbody from HeeHaw only more so (Note to the young: HeeHaw was made back in the early 70s when people still had a collective sensa huma.) It was too early for trick or treats, so I inquired if she had the wrong address and the local bachelor lived next door. But she was from the medical experiment/study for which I signed up. She looked like she would burst in both directions at once and still have two or three directions left over.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I know this all sounds like I am setting you up for a joke, but this really happened.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>She claimed to be a nurse and was there to draw blood for the experiment or study. Being dumb as a dog turd, I went ahead with it, while my bride looked on with dismay. Afterwards, I realized she was right: real nurses don’t dress like that. Furthermore, a bad actor could take those six vials of blood, kill someone, sprinkle my blood at the scene, DNA would result in the constables bashing down my door in the night while simultaneously crashing the doors of my brother and all six male first cousins. Like a fool, I didn’t take any photos to prove the whole incident happened, or for identification purposes or to prove my innocence, etc.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Some time passed, no constables, I forgot the whole thing. The study people were supposed to follow up with me periodically but never did, no phone call, not even a postcard.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>That takes us up to… today.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I went to Stanford get my blood test for my annual checkup. She says: You signed up for a study. You may back out, or consent to give six extra vials of blood today. I told her I didn’t recall ever having signed up for such a study. She queried if I live at 2425 Fairview Drive, I replied no, I haven’t lived there for 29 years. She said: OK I will update that. I inquired regarding with whom I had signed up and when. Answer: Stanford Medical in October 1991. I responded this would be impossible for I had never seen a doctor before 1995 which was the first time I had set foot in that hospital. She said this study would likely have sent someone to my residence, apparently 2425 Fairview.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Ah. So. That’s what that was. I resisted the urge to inquire after the nurse who collected the sample. My fear was that she is now not nearly as impressive as she was in those days when I was younger than I am now.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I asked (30 years after the fact) what the study was for. Answer: it was to correlate DNA with changing numbers for vitals. I gave them the six extra vials today.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Lesson: don’t surf the internet. Or if so, don’t sign up for mysterious medical studies, then move away shortly afterwards. Or if so… take photos of whoever they send to collect the samples, if for no other reason than to be able to post entertaining images to one’s online friends or for any other purpose one might imagine.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>spike <o:p></o:p></p></div></body></html>