Exam Room #3

I had my very first dermatological body scan today. (scan meaning I laid naked on a table while the doctor examined my every inch...I know what you're thinking "jealousssss" ....of the doctor, obviously) Given the years of sun abuse - ie: mixing baby oil with crisco, I felt it in my best interest to get all those "things" on my body checked out.

After filling out several sheets pertaining to my insurance, I proceeded to fill out the health history section. I'll be honest, i am a bit of a hypochondriac. (no lie- was convinced I had Lupus for three months before I found out I was pregnant).

Although I knew to answer "no" to most of the questions, some of them were questionable, and quite frankly, got me a little nervous. Although there was no "official" check box, I felt it only fair to create my own "maybe" box. I mean, I wanted the doctor to have a full understanding of me...you know, so she could treat me properly. Some of the items included, but are were not limited to:


1. Anxiety (umm....have you been to my house??)
2. Alzheimer's (i forget things...a lot)
3. Skin problems - duh...I'm at the dermatologist..aren't I?
4. Digestion (go ahead....I DARE you to eat a half a bag of sugarfree chocolate)
5. Sleep problems (I don't know if my sleep problems really count...medically anyway, but If she wants to prescribe me some Ambien or something....I wouldn't object)

So, after the completing the forms to the best of my ability, I was summoned to EXAM ROOM#3)

The nurse came in with a chart complete with a the outline of the front and back of a person. She asked me what I was concerned about. I began to explain that I hadn't had a lot of sleep lately, and my eldest son had been having some problems in school. Also, there is a level of romance missing in my life..and.... She stopped me. " I mean, skin problems...moles, rashes, etc". "oh, of course, sorry." I could've pointed to every freckle...I mean, honestly, my chest alone resembles Hydra (the largest of the constellations names after a many headed sea serpent encountered by Hercules). However, I kept it to the most bothersome to me. "Ok, the Doctor will be in a few minutes". She then instructed me to take off all my clothes, and put a gown on...opening to the back. She then handed me a sheet. Umm...I am at the dermatologist, right? Cause last time someone told me to do that, there was to be a cold, metal object with a crank in my near future.

I told her I would compromise. I would lose the bra...that's it.

Sounds familiar...right? That last sentence..."the doctor will be in a few minutes". We all know what that means. "IF YOU'RE LUCKY, THE DOCTOR WILL BE IN IN LESS THAN 1 HOUR"

I don't know why I was surprised as I sit there 15 minutes later. First, I realized i was cold. And my backside was open....and was facing the door. Why would they set the room up like that. If the door opened, and I was sitting up, and I had complied the the naked rule, everyone would have seen my butt.(?) I guess If it were I gyno office, the position of the table would have been preferred. But it was not.

There were no magazines. I dont have an iphone. My cell was out of batteries... I got 2 text messages out and it died. I was bored. So I began to sing. I sat there, looking out the window singing "I can't fight this feeling anymore, i forgotten what I started fighting for..." (you get the idea).
Then, I started to imagine that there was a record producer in the room next door....and this could be my fate...and he would here me..and want to sign me. And all those hours I logged on my home Kareoke machine was not for nothing. Then, he would bust into the room, see my back fat and tell me "sorry...wrong room". *sigh*

OK, this is ridiculous. 25 minutes had passed. It is now close to 1 hour past my appointment time. What is the point of an appointment if you are just going to sit there indefinitely. And why couldnt I stay in the waiting room....with a TV...and magazines....and my clothes on. Then, as I always do in these situations, that maybe there was a hidden camera. I better not pick my nose just in case.

Thirty minutes passed. I decided to call the front desk (as I was not about to walk out the door in a johnny). "hi, this is exam room #3. I was wondering how much longer. I have another appointment in 1/2 hour" (that was a little white lie). She apologized and assured my it would be a few minutes more. "The doctor has been running a little behind". A little behind? Its not like the ob/gyn where you can somewhat understand because of the sudden, and unexpected births and all. And unless she had the woman with the 200 pound tumor, or better yet tree man (google him...fascinating) is in the next room, I don't buy it.

OK, I'll wait. But my time is worth something too. Its worth 4 pairs of size small latex gloves, a couple of tongue depressor and a tube of Aquaphor.

Finally, she came in. Eight months pregnant. I felt kind of bad. (not because I was cursing her for taking so long...because she was going to have a baby).

Turns out, I am ok. I do not have melanoma or anything. And she didn't think I had lupus either. However, she didn't think therapy was a horrible idea for me.

At any rate, I made an appointment for 2 weeks to get some moles removed ....just because they are ugly, and frankly, I am sick of Emma trying to pick them off...and Liza calling me "holy moly".

"Thank you doctor and good luck with your baby (and welcome to hell)" On the way out, I noticed a pamphlet on Restylane injections. Booyaa.......