After yet another sleepless night, I somehow managed to roll out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8 o'clock this morning. I have not seen 8 o'clock in I don't know how many years. There's a reason why I don't do this, I thought. But my reason today was a doctor's appointment. No, no, sorry, a dermatologist appointment.
I've had this nasty little wart type thing on my knee for what seems like ever. I've tried everything. Dr. Scholls, freezing, burning, picking, duct tape. At one point I brought a pair of scissors to the little irritated bump. But in the face of two silvery shards against just a mere growth on my skin, I ckickened out. And made an appointment.
I hate waiting rooms. I think the doctor's do it on purpose. While they're playing with electronic golf sets in their offices, we, the patients, are mulling over the fact that you could tell us we're going to die. Subconsciously we begin listing our possessions and by each we put a name of who we want it to go to. This is our internal will. Executor: guy sitting across from me with a rash.
In speaking of guy sitting across from me with rash, there's nothing grosser than parking your behind in a seat in the waiting room of a dermatologist's office. You have no way of knowing what kind of skin disease found itself into the innermost crevices in the chair's fibers. You don't know until you wake up one morning with creepy, unidentifiable symptoms that you picked up from an ill chair somewhere. There's no telling what's crawling around in there. Straight up gross. Lysol, anyone? No, seriously.
I found it hard to concentrate in the waiting area. Each new patient that would walk in, sign and sit down, caught my attention. I couldn't help but wonder what sick skin problem they had lurking under their clothes. Psoriasis, perhaps? Liver spots? Excema? Shingles? The possibilities are endless. The image of flaking, crispy, chafed skin almost brought me to the bathroom where I would experience dry heaves and profuse sweating.
All of this for a little wart.
4 comments:
that's hilarious. i'd be a lil nervous about the chairs in there too! i find myself staring into the ER waiting room at our hospital when i deliver around there looking to see what kinda grossness blood and guts wait there. its human nature, like staring at car wrecks when you drive by real slow.
that's hilarious. i'd be a lil nervous about the chairs in there too! i find myself staring into the ER waiting room at our hospital when i deliver around there looking to see what kinda grossness blood and guts wait there. its human nature, like saring at car wrecks when you drive by real slow.
damn it, i hit the back button to fix "staring" on the bottom line cause i hate spelling and grahmar(sp) errors when i know they're wrong, but it just made a new entry.
Ewwwww. Oh, gee thanks. Now I'm never gonna sit at the dermatologist's office again, unless there's paper. Ewwww.
~~ jennifer
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