Oh, To Be a Dermatologist

So I’m sitting in the cubicle and the doctor is peering at my skin while he dictates to the nurse who’s plinking away at her laptop, saying, “That’s an AK,” and then he adds, “Put a spot on that before we lose it,” (or something like that) and then he says, “Mind if I burn that?” and I ask, “Are you talking to me?” and he says, “Yes,” so I say, “Okay,” and he twirls around and grabs a blowtorch and SCHWATZZZZZ!!! he blowtorches that sucker for reasons I can only conclude are related to it being an AK (as in 47) and my collarbone is on fire about thirty seconds and then it’s all over.

Man. What a profession.

Comments (3)

  • What is an AK? You can’t leave it at that. I have a need to know! Btw, the gardener calls me the dermatologist because I’m fascinated with weird skin things.

  • What is an AK? You can’t leave it at that. I have a need to know! Btw, the gardener calls me the dermatologist because I’m fascinated with weird skin things.
    Oh!!! Figured it out.

    • Ellen Morris Prewitt

      It all happened so quickly—found, fired, and gone—that I didn’t even ask. I, too, Googled it when I got home. 🙂 He also kept noting “barnacles,” which could’ve been the subject of a whole ‘nother blog post 🙂

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