Be on Time and Wait

Today was the day I finally got in to see the dermatologist.

At my request, my primary had authorized a session with a dermatologist.

It’s sorta locking the barn door after the horse has been stolen but, at this late stage of life, I wanted to know if anything could be done to repair the sun damage caused by too much sun in my younger years.

It took three months to get the appointment and, because it’s been so hot lately, and I’ve been not wanting to leave my unit for anything other than workout and groceries, it took everything I have to not cancel the appointment.

Soldiering on, I dealt with the heat, the traffic, and made it to the medical center well ahead of my scheduled appointment.

Sitting outside the center, in a nicely shaded area, I people watched, caught a few Pokémon, admired the way the camo Birkenstock’s matched my leggings.

I about lost my mind, couldn’t wait to order, when the internet "cookies" caused an ad for the camo Birkenstocks to hit my feed, because I luv luv luv camo … camo anything.

When it was time for my 2:15 appointment, I headed inside to the bank of elevators.

There was a long line and only one elevator working so, silly me, I thought to take the stairs.

I huffed and I puffed and petered out by the time I’d reached the third floor. Lucky for me, that’s as far as the winding marble staircase went because I’d have ended my life, right there on the stairs of the medical center, by foolishly trying to continue on to the 6th floor had more stairs been available.

The good news was, that from there, I was able to catch the one working elevator when it was going down, so I was already on when it got down to the first floor where all the people were lined up waiting.

Checking in at 6th Floor Dermatology, one of the girls saw me still trying to catch my breath, sweating a little and commented, "It must be really hot outside".

"It is hot, but this is from trying to climb your stairs", said I.

So, all checked in on time, I was directed to the Waiting Room where I waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

Forward thinking individual that I am, I always carry a book to entertain myself when I go to the medical center, because you just never know.

Out of respect for where I was, I’d removed the cover and left it at home.

Forty-five minutes later at 3:15, still waiting, reading, beginning to feel drowsy, thinking I should have gone ahead and cancelled, I closed the book and considered walking out.

Just when I was about to the walking out point, had had enough, the doctor’s assistant comes out, says they’re running a little behind.

I check my phone, see it’s now going on 3:30. I go back to reading … but first, I take a photo of the Waiting Room’s wall, because I thought it interesting.

They could have done a better job on the seating, those benches are a fail up against that backdrop.

Along about 3:45, I got called into the doctor’s examination room, where I waited and waited and waited and waited.

Along about 4:00, in walks the Dermatologist — an African woman with a humungous bosom.

Now, I’m a big girl myself, so when I describe another woman’s bosom as humungous, that’s saying something.

At any rate, she was professional, knew her stuff, explained all the various causes of what she calls hyperpigmentation — that it’s not just sun, gave me various options for lightening the dark spots — pointing out that nothing is guaranteed, but we could either try a fast course of treatment, with something I can’t remember what she said, or a slow course of treatment. That some clients reported improvement with either, others no change. With fewer side effects, I opted for a slow course.

If it works, fine. If it doesn’t, I’m okay applying cover sticks and toner blends.

Asking how long the hyperpigmentation has been developing, and I say the first dark spot appeared in my late 20’s, the Dermatologist calculated further darkening of the skin in other areas took about 50 years to develop and asked, "Why now? What took you so long to want to do something about it?"

"I just never thought I’d live long enough for it to become an issue, but I'm here, no end in sight, so I figured why not", said I.

That sent her into a fit of involuntary laughter, after which she looked me up/down said, "Wow. You’re in good shape for your age. I mean Wow".

"Grace of God", said I.

I was finally outta there at 4:15, with a prescription for Retin-A crème and a guaranteed hack for making kitchen tile look brand new from her assistant — Clorox blue gel toilet bowl cleaner.

Can’t wait to give it a try. The doctor’s assistant said it works without a lot of scrubbing.

Heading to the Pharmacy, I passed a door that said "stairs". Looking inside, I saw normal regular stairs. Evidently that marble staircase I tried to get to the 6th Floor on, was the wrong stairs to try to climb.

Pharmacy was too busy, I was exhausted, so I headed home to order the crème from the Pharmacy online.

I’m going to tell Trainer about the huffing, puffing and suggest we do some elevations on the treadmill to get me in better shape for tackling stairs.

Too bad he doesn't have a Stairmaster. If I had room, I'd order one for myself, but I can't squeeze not one more piece of exercise equipment into this unit.

So that was my exhausting day. Next up is the dentist, followed by the optometrist, neither of which I expect to be as long a timewaster as this appointment ... all that waiting for only 10 minutes with the dermatologist.