Friday, September 23, 2011

the biopsy

My cheek itches.

I've had a couple of spots on my forehead, for a couple of years. My NP & I weren't sure what they were, so I saw a dermatologist. The appointment? Took a couple of months. The office? Gorgeous.

Are you in medical school and wondering about a specialty? Go derm.

The office was in an abandoned mill. All gorgeous brick, old wood, tile, black metal sculptures, and exposed pipes. The office uniform? Black scrubs. Chic. Staff: perky, cheerful, and agreeable.

My biggest pre-appointment worry: would I have to disrobe? Photos?

Don't worry! She's just looking at your face!

The spots, meh. Nothing. But, wait, hmmm. What about that freckle on your cheek...

Biopsy. So I reclined. Did Reiki on myself, called in my guides and angel. Was totally relaxed when the medical technician (not a nurse? why not? are we too expensive?) injected lido, "Just a pinch!"

The PA approached and asked, "Can you feel anything sharp?"


More lido. No sharpness. She punched out a chunk of my flesh, cauterized the capillaries who were bleeding excessively, and stitched me. "Come back in one week for suture removal!"

"Oh, I can do that myself, OK?"

"OK! Gee, that's bleeding a lot. I'm just going to put a bulky pressure bandage on that, OK? You can take it off in an hour."

OK. And then I was off to shop, in search of venetian blind wands. Found them. yay.