Botox, Anyone?

A few weeks ago I noticed something on my fingers that was kinda cringe-worthy. It looked like a bunch of tiny, tiny water blisters. They eventually went away and were replaced by dry skin. You could barely see the dots but I'm sure my finger said all sorts of things in braille if you rubbed your finger across it. I became Meredith Haynes, web M.D. and looked up my symptoms. From what I could tell it is a type of harmless exzema, fairly common and completely safe. Directions were to apply cortisone cream and deal with it (more or less).

I emailed my mom the news and she replied (and I quote), "Get thee to a dermatologist." Didn't have quite the same flair as "nunnery," but both make it in the top 20 places I never want to go. So I called, made an appointment, and waited 3 weeks.

Now. Most people think going to a dermatologist is harmless. I thought so too until a year ago (February, 2007) when I had a tiny speck of a mole removed from my back and passed the heck out on a recliner chair. Mortified doesn't begin to describe how I felt once I finally came to. If that wasn't terrible enough, the doctor then said (in a rude tone I might add), "You were supposed to tell me you were a fainter. Now you have to tell all doctors you faint around needles, etc." LISTEN, lady, I have never fainted before in my life (except for that one time in 6th grade, which doesn't really count) and frankly, I blame it on the fact that I didn't have time to eat lunch and you made me nervous by saying, "I'm just going to scrape that mole off." SICK! I kept trying to sit up but was afraid something else might also come up so I stayed on her uncomfortable reclining chair for a good 15 minutes. Called Kaitlin who thankfully was able to pick me up and I took my first sick day ever at the church.

Soooo now you can see that with the dermatologist comes anxiety. Moving on.

This morning I sat in the same uncomfortable recliner chair and explained my deathly illness. She looked at my hands and in 4 seconds (possibly 3.5) declared I have exactly what I researched. Gave me cortisone cream. Entire process took 4 minutes and that is because 3 min and 45 seconds were spent talking about the large crevice I have between my brows. I asked her if there was anything I could do to get rid of it besides botox and she let me know that botox was the only cure and I needed it. Like, now. Apparently Honest Abe was her grandaddy or something. I told her I wasn't that interested in botox and then out of curiousity asked her more about it.

Folks, it lasts 3 months and costs $275 a session. Sometimes I wish I was terrible at math so I could live my life in blissful ignorance but I started calculating what it would cost if I kept it up for the rest of my life. I actually laughed out loud. She did not. I thanked her for the cortisone cream and we parted ways.

I did not tell her about my recent sunburn for fear she'd "scrape off" another mole out of sheer anger. And between you and me, I forgot to eat breakfast this morning so I was not about to let that happen.