Thursday, February 25, 2010

Adventures in Dermatology


While inspecting my face in the mirror, shortly after my 26th Birthday, I noticed a small brown blotch above my left eyebrow . Horror of horrors: I have an age spot! That coupled with my slight paranoia over a freckle being the thing to take me down inspired me to make an appointment with the dermatologist.

As the date of my appointment approached, I felt the familiar anxiety creep-up on me. My concerns were not ration ones, like them actually finding some malignant mole, oh no, I was perplexed over the idea of getting naked for a skin doctor. Mind you, I am not an overly modest or insecure person. I have no problem whatsoever getting breast exams during my annual physical or spreading my legs for the gynecologist. It's just that I don't see dermatologists as the types of doctors who regularly see naked women. I know this is nonsense, but I can't help but imagine that doing skin cancer screenings on young women must be something of a treat for these guys!

I made the necessary preparations for my unveiling; shaving my legs and wearing appropriate panties, and kept my face make-up free. The day of my appointment I wandered-up to the eighth floor. My doctor was of course a young NYU resident, and of course a man. I got undressed and put on my gown, getting tangled-up in the ties and debating whether to put it on with the opening in the front or back. I pulled the gown tightly around my body as he entered the exam room.

I had made a mental list of all the items I needed him to check out for me, starting with the face and working down. He initially though I was there about the little pimple on my cheek, I quickly assured him that it was a freakin PMS break-out and not a problem, I was more worried about my brown patch. He seemed bemused as I went down my laundry list of concerns. He started by looking at my "age spot" and telling me it was just a touch of sun damage and nothing to worry about. When I looked at him in horror, he said he would be happy to freeze the area, but it would simply leave a white mark where the brown had been. He proceeded to tell me that he thought it looked very natural and would personally leave it alone. I agreed, and sensing my dismay, he informed me that there were outside facilities that could use lasers to correct it if I was really that worried about it. I resigned myself to having a little brown spot and moved-on.

It was time for my skin cancer screening, and I could be insane, but he seemed rather pleased that I had requested this particular test. He unceremoniously pulled my gown open and started inspecting me. I know this is routine for him, but it certainly felt a bit sudden to me! It is a particularly terrible experience considering that the angle of exam tables always cause you to sit in a most unflattering position, maximizing any little gut you might have. Oh well, doctor visits are an exercise in shame! He worked his way down and then asked me to stand-up so he could inspect my backside.

At this point I decided it was time to stop being coy and simply let the gown drop. He took a quick look, then informed me he needed to pull my underwear down a bit so he could see my "butt", I just nodded, feeling myself blushing like an idiot. When the exam was over, I was standing in front of this guy naked while he talked about how normal my freckles and moles looked, I fumbled with my gown while he prattled on, trying to get re-covered as gracefully as possible.

He spoke to me about a new face cream he could get for me and told me to come back in a couple months to let them know how it was working for me. Finally, the appointment was over, as I left all I could do was shake my head and laugh. I could not stop thinking about the fact that only I could have a doctor's appointment that felt as awkward as a first date, a first date where you get naked and are inspected by a complete stranger.

I left the ward with a clean bill of health, a big slice of humble pie and an absolute certainty that I am a crazy person. All I know is that I am lucky that I don't take myself too seriously, and I sure am glad I only have to have a "date" in dermatology once a year!

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