Friday, May 20, 2011

Beam Me Up Scotty (Part 1)

Over the past week I have embraced the future of modern medicine, or I guess I should say I have embraced the laser. And yes the title is a Star Trek reference, I am a treky and a little nerdy........ ok a lot nerdy. Don’t worry it never escalated to dressing up as the characters or going to conventions, I even make sure that most of the people I come into contact with never learn this fact. See now don’t you feel special; and before you start Googling Savik, be aware that she was friggin cool and that one year soon I will be her for Halloween. Mr. Rogue can be Captain James T Kirk.

So my laser journey began two months ago when I really started to take notice of my body again. After I lost the baby, after the horrible depression again subsided a light clicked on... it was as if I had a second chance for it to be all about me for just a little longer. I determined to do something with the time I had been given, finish up all those little niggly loose ends; it was like looking at the glass half full after months of bemoaning its emptiness.

One of the biggest things I was nervous about my first pregnancy was my weight and how it would affect carrying a baby, what pre-genetic disposition I could potentially be giving my child for obesity etc. So the first thing I tackled was the weight. I started eating right, I started a workout routine and the pounds are coming off.

The other thing high on my list that I had just been ignoring was a small little growth on my foot that has been there for YEARS. It was small, it was round and it didn’t cause me any pain but it was ugly. That ugliness coupled with my mother and some friends comments that they thought it was just a wart made me decide to go get it looked at. All I needed to do was go to the podiatrist, figure out what it is and then get it taken off. Easy peasy right?

My general doctor set up an appointment for me with a local podiatrist and last month I drove to his office. I have to mention that I love my feet, mostly because they are small and adorable and I get to dress them up in pretty shoes. My feet have kind of become the adult version of my childhood Malibu Barbie. It makes me happy to see them in a fabulous pair of new heels for a night on the town. The little defect drove me kinda nuts and was a tiny flaw in my foots perfect life.

So I went into the doctor’s office, which was filled with geriatric patients, I got lead to a nice clean little room and was told to wait. I didn’t sit there long when the doctor walked in, he was hot and I seriously started to ask for his number. No NO not for me, I am happily married, but I do have a good friend looking and let’s face it a hot doctor who is unmarried is hard to find. Plus if I couldn’t have him then someone fabulous I know should RIGHT! However I got the question half past my lips but stopped. I thought that would be weird and awkward, pimping dates for my friend as he examined my foot. I also wanted to ask him if he had a foot fetish, or how exactly he got into working with feet but then again I stopped mid sentence. He probably thought I was a little verbally handicapped.

Anyways he stared and poked and looked up with a smile. “So it isn’t a wart” he said... I swear I could have kissed him. It makes me happy because the word wart is kind of disgusting, like the word hemorrhoids, or pus, or most horribly cancer – I don’t want any of those words anywhere near my doctor’s charts. He said he thought it was a bad scar and that he could just do a simple topical cream and remove it right there.

WELL hot diggity damn, I was kicking myself for not coming sooner just because I didn’t want to hear the word wart and it wasn’t even a wart. I couldn’t wait to call my girlfriend and do my na-na-naboo- boo dance. I immediately agreed to him removing the scar tissue and away he went. The topical treatment went on, I was going on and on about how happy I was and then my sparkly fairy tale got ripped out from underneath me.

“Ohhhhhh” he said “Hummmm” with a gigantic large pause... “Maybe it is a wart”.

Seems like when he started cutting in it started to bleed and well scars don’t bleed. He set me up for laser removal. I was in his tiny little doctors office for less than 12 minutes in which time he examined my foot, fed me a false dream of euphoria, scraped my foot which made it bleed and then tore down my fairy tale castle he had just handed me the keys too. I was in a whirl.

After the receptionist made my appointment for the following available surgery day she handed me the doctor bill for my visit. I calculated that this guy makes about 80 dollars a minute; thank goodness for good healthcare that should cover most of that but... DAMN I knew I should have gotten his number, this guy makes more than Bill Gates.

to be continued...


lilmansworld said...

I can just see the cartoon bubble over your head when you stopped mid sentence for his # "man I wish I had a delete button" hahhah Laser will always remind me of Austin Powers!

paul peggy zeus said...

Come on even the Dr doesn't know what it is! Glad you had second thoughts on asking for the Dr's phone number. That would have been too much.

Post a Comment