Ahhhhh!
aging

Holy Moley: My trip to the Dermatologist

sunblock-1461397_1920The annual mole check.

An activity I enjoy as much as renewing my driver’s license, getting a pap smear, or shopping for hemorrhoid cream.

The night before my appointment, I took inventory of every questionable mole.

Like those two spots on my stomach formerly known as Cute-Little-Freckles – that over the course of my pregnancy had morphed into two-headed amoebas.

I anticipated getting whittled on like a Halloween pumpkin.

The day of, I wore a super comfy DVF-inspired wrap dress (okay, so it was actually Jaclyn Smith for Kmart). I remembered reading material, and I brought breath mints (because they get all UP in your grill looking for Melanoma).

I felt very prepared.

The nurse left me alone in the exam room to undress and instructed me to remove everything except my underwear. And thats when I realized…

I forgot to wear underwear.

Instead, my dumb ass wore spanx. SPANX!

Note to self: Do Not Wear Spanx to Your Mole Check.

Sitting on the table, I debated…

Spanx on. Spanx off.

Spanx on. Spanx off.

I didn’t want the doctor to think I don’t wear undergarments.

Then again. If I left them on, it might take two nurses and the office manager to lift and squeeze and search around and underneath them.

Spanx on. Spanx off.

Spanx on. Spanx off.

I decided to leave them on.

No sooner had I made my decision, than there was a knock on my door.

The doctor and her amazingly-gorgeous-assistant (who has probably never worn Spanx in her LIFE, ugghhhh) entered and quickly started the investigation.

I laughed nervously as I rolled down my control top, my flat tire falling out around me.

GlubGlubGlub.

She measured my amoebas with a ruler and noted their impressive size in my chart.

She did not, however, see any need to remove them. (Great, soon I can start feeding them and taking them for walks.)

She then examined my back, legs, feet….Ahhhhh! My feet???

WHY, OH WHY, DID I WEAR MY ABSOLUTE-FAVORITE-BUT-EXCEPTIONALLY-STINKY leather flats?

She looked over each fragrant toe. Painstakingly.

There are few things in life worse than the slow, painful torture of embarrassment.

Please let this be over soon. For I have no dignity left.

As she finished up, I tried to distract myself by looking around the room.

Also, not a good idea.

Look at this terrifying poster!

Ahhhhh!

Ahhhhh!

I left the office with all the moles I came with.

I also left with absolutely no self-confidence and the image of an elderly cheerleader forever etched in my mind.

Should you be visiting the Dermatologist anytime soon, take my advice. Wear panties, bring a pair of open-toed shoes, keep your head down…

And leave your pride at home.

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2 Comments

  • Reply Lynette Ramer April 23, 2015 at 10:41 pm

    Super great as usual, been there done that 🙂

  • Reply JackieDuley April 23, 2015 at 11:21 pm

    You are so funny!!!

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