The Dermatologist

In my estimation, trips to the Dermatologist are only for elderly Floridians and the terminally pimpled.

And me.  Evidently.

At my recent yearly physical, my doctor spotted a spot that she deemed suspicious.  She asked me when my last dermatology visit was.  When I started doing math in my head, she stopped me and said that I needed to get my spot looked at.

But you don’t understand.  Here in Florida, it can take years to get an appointment….I mean, I could be one giant boil away from death and I still wouldn’t get in….she raised her hand to stop me.  They’ll see you.

And with that she jotted down the name of our dermatologist.  Before the day was through I had an appointment scheduled for the next month.

Unheard of.

The spot in question is right smack dab in the middle of my chest.  But not much noticeable since I began hiding my cleavage away during the breastfeeding portion of motherhood.

And frankly out of fear, everything has since stayed hidden away.

That last child was a violent nurser.  I’m still traumatized.

Anyhoo.

As my appointment neared this week, Fiddledaddy began to prepare me by relaying his dermatology tales of horror about getting spots fried off of his face, and other regions.

He delighted in torturing me by telling me that I would indeed cry like a girl, and about burning flesh, scarring, and anything beyond that I didn’t hear because my eyes rolled into the back of my head just before I blacked out.

I am not a fan of pain.

Bravely on Tuesday I set out the door for my appointment.  With my children making “sizzling” sounds as I left.  I in turn made a mental note to reward them with a special dinner of cold porridge that night.

I sat in the sterile chamber of dermatology horrors, suspiciously eyeing laser type equipment, needles, and pictures of dermatological nightmares on the wall.

When my doctor entered, I had forgotten that she looks like she’s 17.  We chatted about our children as she examined all of my spots.  From head to toe.  I heard her name two spots “pre-cancer’ and one “biopsy.”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, but I remained calm.  She explained that she was going to zap a pre-cancer spot on my forehead (thank you God for bangs) and on my arm.  But the suspicious third eye on my chest was going to have to be scraped off and biopsied.

What?  Scraped off?  I began to turn green.  I relayed to her all of the tales of horror my husband (who she sees yearly) told me.  She snickered.  And she told me that the zapping only takes 5 seconds, but she lingers a little longer on the men.

HAHAHAHAHA.  THAT’S FUNNY!

She zapped my two spots, and IT WAS NOTHING!  I’ve endured childbirth for crying out loud.  Me.  Who births industrial sized children from non-birthing hips.

BRING IT ON!

The she set about the business of the biopsy.  I saw a needle, and I just closed my eyes and went to my happy place.

Then I made the tactical error of opening my eyes just as she was dropping something very red and gooey into a vial for testing.

Check please.

I now wait a week for the results.  I’m not worried.  I mean, I have to wait until NEXT YEAR to find out what happens on “Lost.”  What’s a week.

When I arrived home, Cailey sniffed me suspiciously, “What’s that smell?”

“Burning flesh,” I replied.  Her eyes widened.  And then I thoroughly enjoyed telling my children that it didn’t hurt a bit and it’s THEIR FATHER WHO IS A BIG BABY AT THE DERMATOLOGIST’S OFFICE.

And then I had to dodge Jensen who spent the rest of the day fixated on the bandage on the middle of my chest.

Okay sisters and brothers of the internet, have you scheduled your dermatology appointment this year?

deedeesig

20 Responses to The Dermatologist

  • Thanks for reminding me I need to schedule one for my husband. Bwhahahaha!

  • I got a crazy mole removed (from a… SENSITIVE area) this summer, and I was shocked and delighted at how simple and quick the whole thing was. I left grinning from ear to ear that all of my fears had been unfounded. I would have gone in sooner instead of spending so long worrying about it if I’d known!

  • Just last week I scheduled an appointment to do an overall screening, even though I don’t fit the stereotypical profile of those who should be checked (typical are blue-eyed, fair-skinned people, right?). No big concerns–just want to be prudent.

  • Haven’t had one since I was 16. Don’t plan to schedule one for a couple of years unless something pops up.

  • As if I needed another sign that I need to schedule my check-up with the dermatologist, this is it.

  • I need to. I had a couple of moles biopsied last year which turned out to be nothing, but I have another one on my chest again. I feel like pregnancy makes the weird moles come out.

  • Thanks for the reminder. I hope you’ll let us know your results. No one has pain tolerance equal to women who have birthed those babies.

  • No, but I suppose I should considering I’ve had a “suspicious” looking spot by my eye for over a year. By my EYE! Talk about not wanting to be scraped and biopsied! We spent a lot of money having these eyes fixed.

  • Glad it wasn’t so bad. You have a great attitude about it, good for you! I was a big baby when I had to get a thyroid biopsy. I almost left, but mean hubby wouldn’t let me, lol. I have to make a derm apt for my daughter though. She has a nasty spot on her hand she wants removed. Thanks for the reminder!

  • OK. Everyone I read or talk to has some kind of mole or growth. Is there something in the air or what? I have to go through a painful referral process to get anything, so I haven’t seen a dermatologist in about 13 years.

  • When I think of dermatologists, I think of pimply teenagers – i went to a dermatologist for acne for all my junior-high & high-school years. 🙂

  • Hubs goes every year. I don’t think I have ever been. He goes and has all of his moles examined and then zap what needs to be zapped and remove what needs to be removed. The funny thing is he still needs me to go with him and hold his hand. Ok well not hold his hand but I still go with him.

  • Been there! Had a tiny black spot on my back, that looked like a blackhead, ugh. My hubs tryed to mash it to no avail, so next time I was at the gyno (yeah, I know..) I said “how bout looking at that black spot on my back”. He, too, thought it was a blackhead and tried to mash it and said “hmmm, maybe I need to cut that out”. Don’t you LOVE it when your doctor goes “hmmm”? SO…when he finished butchering my back, he said “that was rather deep” and showed me that he had cut out a chunk of meat the circumference and depth of the first knuckle of my little finger!!!” TOOK 13 STITCHES!!! Was benign, but if he hadn’t taken it out it wouldn’t have been for long. The Lord looks out for me! Good luck!

  • i’m too big of a chicken to go!

  • I am 36 and fair-skinned and freckled, I know, you are so jealous of my skinheritance, so I have been going regularly for over 8 years. I had a basal cell removed from my forehead when I was 32, so I have pretty much been a freak about spots every since.

    My hubs, who is naturally a tan, NO SPF guy, has nothing. So unfair. He mocks me as I slather on the helioplex 80 and sit under the umbrella.

    I am forever grateful that my children have his skin. My derm. is this cute guy, and he is very thorough in his checks, which is far worse than sizzling off something… exposed flab and bright lights… YUK!

  • Oh I HATE the exposed flab and bright lights. Ugh. The last time I went I fretted and obsessed and made so sure I was showered and smelled good – and wore undies with no holes…. then I got there and there was a huge sign saying NOT to wear perfumes due to allergic people – AND my unholy panties? Inside out. Can we say mortified??? Haven’t been bak since. But thanks for the reminder.

    Also – I got halfway through and was going to ask if you kicked Fiddledaddy’s butt, however when I reached the end I realized your revenge was much sweeter 🙂 Ha!

  • I actually went to the dermatologist this week for them to check out something else and while I was there, she decided to do a quick screening. I ended up getting three shave biopsies…two slightly larger than a pencil eraser. I am evidently a pain wimp as those two holes she left in my lower back cause me to nearly pass out when the bandaids are changed.

    I didn’t bounce right back after childbirth either…

  • Yes! Yes, I did. But I still don’t believe them. Clearly this spot right here is weird.

    It’s even worse when the suspicious spot (or blob) is on your child and none of the 3 doctors who have examined it want to slice it off!

  • Cold porridge….hee hee! I am new to your blog…what a hoot! Hope you get good results back from the biopsy. I had to have 2 spots scraped off and sent off 2 weeks after having kid #2….they kept apologizing for the pain med shot hurting. I think I laughed AT them. good times. good times.

  • Okay, I live in Florida too—not quite sure where “armpit Florida” is, or if I’m somewhat close to there—but I must confess to having never gone to the dermatologist. I take that back. About 15 years ago I went to the dermatologist after the pollution did havoc on my skin in Greece. That or the oily sufflakis (sp?) that I couldn’t stop eating. Even though I requested “no oil” in greek. Although, later I learned I said no Motor Oil—so perhaps I had no motor oil but plenty of cooking oil, hence my afflicted face!