So I went for a physical a couple months ago. The doc noticed a mole around my right shoulder blade that looked "suspicious." He asked me if it had changed in appearance at all.
"How do I know? It's on my back."
"Good point. But in that case, guess we'll just have to take it out."
"D'oh!"
It took me two months, but I finally made an appointment to see the dermatologist. I saw her two weeks ago.
She looked at it and said,"Yup...gotta come off."
"Tell it to me straight doc...How long do I have?"
"You?" she said, sizing me up, "Prolly about fifty years. You're mole has two weeks. See ya then."
(Ed. note - she didn't really do or say it like that but it woulda been cool if she did...btw - her 5 minute appraisal cost me 10 bucks and Oxford 190)
So two weeks later, there i was...the nurse called my name in the waiting room and placed me in one of those cold sterile exam rooms.
The nurse came in, putting a filled needle, knife-like object, napkin-like thingy and cotton ball on a tray.
"What are those for?" I asked.
"For you."
"I don't think those are mine. I asked for spaghetti Bolognese."
"Huh?"
"Nevermind...just a little joke."
She came back with a form for me to sign.
"What's this?" I inquired as she handed it to me with a pen.
"Just a consent form."
"Oh...In case my spleen gets perforated and I start gushing blood? I guess ya want my next of kin too?"
"No, no, no - you'll be fine. It just tells you that there will be a scar and you're okay with it."
"That is unacceptable! My face is how I make a living! It cannot be scarred!"
"I thought the mole was on your back?" the nurse said, while peaking at my chart.
"It is."
"So why would your face get scarred?"
"That's what I'd like to know."
"It wont."
"Oh...well...I'll sign it, but I'm not happy about it!"
"You're too much," she said taking the form, and then left, shaking her head while smiling.
So the doc comes in and greets me, taking a look at my mole.
"I hear yer making trouble," she said.
"Moi? Has the mole changed?" I asked.
"From two weeks ago?...uhhh, no."
"Cool! Then we dont have to take it out! Right?"
"Umm, no...still comin' off...You're not scared, are ya?" she asked incredulously.
"Who? Me? Scared? Why, no...thats so funny...not funny, ha ha or anything, but funny, like 'odd'...what would make you think I'm scared?
"You seem slightly nervous...and you're back is sweating." Shocking.
"Nah, not nervous, I mean, what do I have to be nervous about?"
"Nothing."
"You're just gonna gimmee an injection in my back."
"It'll only sting for a sec."
"Right...And then yer gonna take a knife and cut out a piece of me."
"You wont feel a thing."
"Of course...And then yer gonna put needles and thread through my skin to bind it together."
"Again. You wont feel a thing."
"Naturally...all i know is I'm getting woozy just thinkin' about it."
"Would you like to lie down?"
"No, I'm okay. If I do feel the sudden need to faint though, would you recommend backwards or forwards?"
"Maybe you better sit."
I sat down while she got the equipment for the job ready. I looked over her shoulder and saw a cotton ball soaked with a reddish liquid."
"Umm, why's that cotton ball dipped in blood?"
"That's not blood," Dr. Rabbin said laughing, "That's disinfectant. Just gonna clean the area with it."
"Oh...I thought you were re-using cotton balls."
"You really thought that?" she asked incredulously (again).
"Well, in this economy, we're all cuttin' corners."
"You're insane."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
She instructed me to lie down and turn on my right side. My already clammy skin immediately stuck to the paper on the "operating" table. She picked up the needle. I sprung up.
"That's a, quite a..a needle ya got there."
"I swear. It won't sting but for a second."
"Well, usually when a doctor tells me somethin' wont hurt at all, it means it's gonna hurt a bit. When y'all tell me it's gonna hurt a bit, it means I better use a mouthpiece so I dont bite my tongue."
"Seriously. This wont hurt. Yesterday, I had two thirteen year old girls having this done."
"I get it. Yer tryin' to shame me into not whining....Or are you offering them to me if I shut up?"
"You are seriously insane."
"One more question before we start."
"What?"
"What were they wearing?"
"Lie down...on your side."
"So, yer an accountant, huh?" she said, in an obvious attempt to take my mind off what was about to occur.
"Yup. What do you do for a living?" I asked
"Very funny. You should be a comedian."
A few seconds pass. I thought about what's goin' on behind me. The silence was painful.
"It's a good thing I have no backbone. I'd prolly be worried that you'd scrape it with the needle or knife. One less thing to worry about."
"You're doin' fiiiine," Dr. Rabbin said slowly, concentrating on her work. I felt sweat dripping down my forehead but I dared not move to wipe it...not while she had a knife in my back. I felt tugging from my back....stitches.
"Sooo, are these stitches the kind that evaporate or what?"
"You mean dissolve? No, you're gonna have to come back in two weeks to have them removed."
"Super." I slightly lifted my head in a futile attempt to create some separation with the paper...my head was glued to it with sweat.
"All done," Doc said, "Sit up for a few minutes. I'll be back." I peeled myself off the paper. She turned on the fan, directed it at me, took my mole (I assume) and left.
She came back with "care instructions" and told me to make an appointment for two weeks to get them removed. She shook my hand and turned to go.
"I actually do have one question for ya."
"Shoot."
"Is there any way to get the mole back from the lab after they're done testin' it?"
"That's a new one. Umm, no, I don't think so. Why would you want it?"
"Well, I'm gonna be a famous writer pretty soon, so I thought I might be able to sign it and sell it on Ebay."
"You're absolutely insane. Seeya in two weeks."
Rock On,
Aitch
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