Ponderings upon Mole Removal
Last week, I spent some time in an outpatient clinic, waiting to have two moles removed. I’d been there before, in fact, it’s the remaining two moles of the triangle on my leg that now need coming off. Largely for preventative purposes, I think - the dermatologist was moving very quickly when he spoke to me, but I think it comes down to them being too dark in colour to be left alone lest they turn completely to the dark, go rogue and create problems. So there I am, in the clinic, waiting. And waiting. And since you have to do something while you're waiting (and waiting), here with a brief record of my thoughts.
When the receptionist tells me that the wait shouldn't be too long, I wonder if she's being creative with the truth in order to control the hordes.
There are at least 40 people in here. Does that mean 40 people are ahead of me?
I should have brought more food.
Oh. There are two clinics. That explains why so many of them are looking more orthopedic than plastics.
This probably means I'm unlikely to get a cast. Phew.
Why does any area where the possibility that waiting is remotely involved insist on hanging up televisions and turning them to CP24 (the local 24-hour news station)?
If you're trying to keep people distracted from the calluses developing on their collective arses from the waiting, it would make more sense to have the sound turned up. Or the subtitles for the deaf turned on. Watching pretty faces talk and talk and talk while I can hear nothing is only captivating for so long.
Oh, look. They've just put a note on the board for the orthopedic clinic that the doctor’s running two hours late.
I'm hungry.
I can't read this book. This book needs me to pay more attention than is possible in a room that’s this noisy and bustling.
Let me try another one. Oh, Here If You Need Me
What lovely writing. I'm really going to enjoy this book.
I'm hungry.
I can't listen to a book in public if the first chapter makes me cry.
The Orthopedic clinic is now running 2½ hours late.
That woman has really narrow feet. They're completely straight on both sides.
Why doesn't the Plastics clinic let us know how late they are, as well?
What else can I listen to? How about this one. A conversation between authors at the 2003 TimesTalks.
It's been an hour and a half, time to ask the receptionist what she meant by "shouldn't be too long".
Another half hour or so. That means two hours of waiting in total. Interesting definition of time there.
The orthopedic clinic is now running three hours late.
If I could use a laptop, I could've written two chapters for The Book by now.
That guy’s actually twitching. I would do - well, more than I actually am - if I'd only brought my cell phone for entertainment.
Hey! That nurse is calling my name. Only 2 hours and 20 minutes after I signed in. Positively speedy.
Why does the surgeon call me young lady when he looks like he's 20?
A pretty cute 20, actually.
He's asking why I want the moles removed. I'm taking this as a good sign.
Dude, it's nice of you to ask me if I want them removed today or to come back, it gives me a sense of control over the situation, but I've waited 2 hours and 20 minutes to see you and although I’d prefer not having them removed at all, we’re going for it. Start carving!
Brace yourself for the killer bee on steroids that they call freezing.
That was it? Not very killer bee-ish.
I'm not looking, I'm not looking, I'm not looking.
Oh. That was a lot easier than last time. Only one stitch each. Why is he not hacking out chunks this time? I choose to take this as a good sign.
Also, dude? Putting my moles in specimen cups labeled lesion 1 and lesion 2 seems to be a bit of a misnomer. They weren't lesions before you started cutting.
I can leave? Already? That took 10 minutes. I waited 140 minutes for a 10 minute procedure?
Stop questioning it, start running, you idiot.
Yes, I'll come back in two weeks to get the stitches out and hear if "there’s anything".
Run!
Having just recently watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, I’m calling them Gerald. R.I.P.
Comments
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"I'm not looking. I'm not looking. I'm not looking." is my new 'if I'm ever a superhero's sidekick' battlecry. As good as "Not in the face. Not in the face." from Arthur.
Although I enjoy your very heartfelt make-me-think entries, I really enjoyed this one too.
For the first few years I lived in Elliot Lake, I had 2 to 3 hour waits for my family doctor. He apparently took on way more patients than was sane, so we all had to wait forever for scheduled appointments. At least I got a family doctor, unlike many other people.
I think it's hilarious, in a somewhat sad way, that your doctor sends you to a surgeon to have the moles removed, and then the surgeon asks you why you want them removed. You're right, it does feel a bit empowering, but it's also really silly.
A couple years ago when I went to see the sleep medicine specialist, I almost fell over when I saw him. He looked like a kid. I mean, I realize that unless he was Doogie Howser, he spent at least a couple years doing undergrad work, then med school, then interning and residentcy and then a fellowship in sleep medicine. But he looked so young, and I'm just not mentally prepared yet for doctors who look that young. Maybe in another 20 years I'll be able to accept that the doctor is younger than me.
And the silent tv? That always mystifies me. You're right, if you're going to have a tv on, then either turn on the sound or turn on the closed captioning. I remember when the walk-in clinic at York put in a tv, and then they ran some sort of drug company infomercials on it. Those things that look kind of like news reports, but seem slightly fishy.