Allergy serum blues hit again

This morning, I had to get up early and drive to my ENT clinic's nearby office to pick up my allergy serum.  After some years of non-physical sparring, my previous nemesis and I have made peace, so I expected a simple trip.

Instead, I found a new person doing the stick tests, in which they poke a little of each of my serums into my arm. 

The test itself went fine, but then rather than letting me sit in the waiting room, the tester demanded I stay in the room with her--and with other patients.  The others and I found this awkward, but we politely kept to ourselves.

When it was time to check to see if I had reacted strongly to the serum, the tester decided she should lower my dosage because my reaction was on the edge of being too big.  Fine; it is what it is. 

Then we took an unfortunate turn.

"Let me put some cream on that," she said.

"No need.  It doesn't itch."

"Are you sure?  It looks like it should itch."

"But it doesn't."

"You don't have to be macho."

Now, I know that at this point I probably should have just surrendered to her cream fetish and let her rub some on my arm, but I didn't, because my arm didn't itch, and she had really annoyed me.  So, I kept trying to be polite as I refused her ministrations.  "I'm not being macho.  It doesn't itch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?  It sure looks like it should itch."

"It doesn't."

"I don't mind putting on a little cream."

"It does not itch."  Before she could speak again, I said, "May I please leave?"

"If you're sure you don't want some cream," she said, "I guess so."

I bit my tongue and left.

I am now actively hoping for my former nemesis to do the stick test next time.