First, I have to start out with an addendum to last week’s post. Ross brought to my attention (because we have been talking about the disable/destroy button for so long,  I’d forgotten), he instituted the disable portion. Mostly, because I just wanted to destroy everything. I’m blood thirsty and pragmatic…what can I say?

On to this week’s topic!

Has anyone else had a full body scan at the dermatologist???

No? Let me enlighten you.

This can be a surprisingly invasive process. Last year, when I went to the dermatologist, I wasn’t prepared. I had originally gone in for an acne treatment and I thought this was the follow up visit. When I walked into the room, the nurse took all my information and then giving me a paper gown (of the highest quality, of course) asked me to get undressed. She left and I was…confused. But I ignored this and got undressed down to my panties and bra because why would they need me to get completely naked for acne?

The doctor came in, barely said a word to me, then put on a pair of magnifying glasses (you know the type with a whole headset attached) that made me think she was going to be working on small clock parts instead of looking at my face. Turns out, she was going to be looking at a whole lot more than my face.

When she got under the gown and saw I still had clothes on, she seemed perplexed, eyeing me with a curious expression that made me think she was trying to ascertain if I was stupid or hadn’t followed directions. Making a decision I can only guess at, she asked me to remove them. So I did, kind of seeing where she was going by this time. I got it, she was looking for moles and abnormal skin stuff (that’s a technical term, by the way). The moment she spread my butt cheeks apart, I said, “Excuse me?”, and rolled over. That’s where I draw the line. Not cool folks. Not. Cool. You need to prepare a person for that.

By the time this thing was over, I felt almost traumatized.

Ross was waiting in the car for me because we were heading out of town. When it was all over and got climbed into the front seat, he looked at me and asked what was wrong.

I told him, “I think I might have just been violated,” and relayed the whole thing.

He answered with, “That doesn’t seem right.”

And we were on our way.

Well, today, I was better prepared. However, the moment my cheeks get spread, it still seems wrong. It just does.

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