Survey Says

Herself went back to the dermatologist today to ask for a thorough survey of her entire pelt, to verify that there are no other serious problems that will need to be addressed. After the recent surprise of "that spot that you thought was benign is, in fact, skin cancer," she wasn't at all sure what to expect from all the other little skin oddities that she had also thought were nothing serious. She was a tiny bit anxious.

She arrived a little early for her 9:15 appointment, and shuffled through the various magazines to entertain herself while waiting.  The other individuals in the waiting room also provided distraction.  Most noteworthy -- for both appearance and volume -- were a woman in her late 20s and her grandmother.  The woman wore black over-the-knee leather and suede boots, leggings, a tube top and a blazer; she was accessorized with complex sunglasses and a designer purse.  (Herself, idly curious, looked up the designer whose initials were emblazoned upon the purse, and found that the bag was a $350 new release of the designer line.)  The grandmother had half-a-dozen noisy telephone conversations during which she called the recipients "SWEETHEART" and "BABY", emphasized the importance of everyone doing exactly as she instructed, and flung about names of a few locally prominent businessmen.  They stage-whispered together regarding the men with whom the granddaughter danced at a Halloween party last night.  Both granddaughter and grandmother grumbled audibly when other patients were called in ahead of the grandmother, even though the vast bulk of the patients were there for simple office visits and the grandmother was there for a surgical procedure (as we learned from one of the phone conversations).  They debated noisily as to whether the grandmother should leave her telephone on during her procedure.

Herself was relieved when her name was called.  It is unusual for her to witness the glares of a self-drawn spotlight such as that of the grandmother and granddaughter, and she found it extremely unpleasant.

The exam room was quiet and slightly frightening this time around.  What would the doctor's lamp reveal?

Herself asked about all the most minute things, no matter how seemingly insignificant they seemed - what's this? What's THIS? What about THIS? It was odd and difficult, for she does not like to call attention to herself, let alone invite scrutiny of all her littlest imperfections. Egads.

The examination revealed nothing else untoward.  HUZZAH.  

The physician's assistant verified the surgery date to remove the basal cell carcinoma, and once more remarked that the basal cell carcinoma is not such a grave concern. Sunscreen, regular examinations to check for anything new, the scheduled surgery to take care of the one problem, and with a bit of luck and hope, that will be that.  

Herself felt a tiny bit of spring return to her step as she left the doctor's office.  Perhaps all will be well, after all.