TMI Tuesday

A few weeks ago I had an appointment with a dermatologist.  I originally made the appointment because I found a couple of spots on my chest that I was worried about and wanted to get checked out.  But in truth, the REAL reason I made the appointment is because I harbor a deep dark secret.

Adult Onset Acne.


Yep, old lady zits.

I know!  It's humiliating!  When I was growing up I NEVER had acne.  I mean seriously never.  Once in a while I would have a pimple and I thought the world was coming to an end.  I always felt SO SORRY for the kids that had terrible acne in highschool.  And I silently gloated was thankful that I had perfect skin.

Until I turned 25.

Since then I've struggled with acne.  I've been embarrassed about it for years.  I know it's all relative b/c I have a friend that truly has terrible acne at age 31, but when you've had perfect skin your whole life it's amplified by a zillion times.  And now I'm 37.  I decided it was time to get this under control.  So I made the appointment with Dr. Ross. For the 2 weeks before my appointment I prayed that this Dr. Ross was not going to look like George Clooney.  You know, Dr Ross on ER?

I went to my appointment and was greeted by yet another a male nurse.  Seriously?  Does UT not have ANY FEMALE NURSES any more???  Dr Ross came in and my fears were confirmed. He was H.O.T.  I was instantly mortified because I knew I was about to embarrass the crud out of myself.

First I  had to show him the spots on my chest.  I pulled down my shirt to the top of my bra, and there was a long hair coming out of my bra.  From my head of course, but HELLO!  Seriously???!!!  I said a silent prayer that he wouldn't notice it.  Or that he would think it was perfectly normal for a 12 inch long hair to be peaking out of a fat girl's bra.

Fortunately the spots were nothing to worry about.  He said they were hereditary.  Thanks a lot, Mom!

The next embarrassing moment came when I said I needed some skin tags removed.  Ugh.  I hate that word. Skin tags.  It's so disgusting.  I had a few dozen  on my neck.  And a gazillion couple under my arms.  He put  on his little glasses that should have made him look nerdy but only exaggerated his gorgeousness and got to business.  A little pain and blood later we were good to go.  He gave me some pills and cream for my face and I got out of there relatively unscathed.

That is until a few hours later when one of the removed skin tags under my arm was hurting and I went to look at it in the mirror at work. I got up close to look at it.  And that's when I noticed it.  The patch of hair that extend all the way across my arm pit (I hate that word too).  I had missed it with my razor!  For who knows how long!  It looked like Sasquatch had taken up residence in there.  I quickly checked my other arm pit , and sure enough, Sasquatch's twin brother.  Can we all say HUMILIATION together?

Poor Dr McHotty was probably throwing up in his mouth the whole time he was working on me.

I'm supposed to go back in October.  I wonder if I can afford laser hair removal by then?