The Cheetah

I had to go to the dermatologist yesterday. Because of my fair Irish skin (porcelain, I’ve heard, when people are trying to be kind; pale and ghostly when they are being more honest) and youth spent growing up in Florida, I am on a 6-month check up schedule. My doctor is good and catches lots of things. I have been carved up more than I care to think about, and while much of it has been benign, I’ve had a few bad spots, and a few pre-melanoma bits that had to be dug out in wider swaths. I give those experiences a 0 out of 10. But I am alive and my skin is healthy, thanks to her watchful eye.

But my favorite experiences come in the form of my doctor’s side comments. She says everything in a deadpan way and it’s hard to tell what she actually means with her words. “Oh, your hair is much blonder than usual, huh?” See? Yes, that is a statement of observation. It’s not actually fact, but it is her perception. But is the state of my hair a good thing, or a bad thing? I don’t ever know. I don’t really even know the right way to respond. “Maybe?”

It, therefore, did not come as a surprise when she deadpanned, “You know we can do laser treatment to get rid of those unsightly spots on your face. Insurance doesn’t cover it, but you don’t have to live with it if you don’t want to.” Yes, brown spots have appeared on the left side of my face, as that is the side exposed every time I drive. I’m 48, so these things are bound to happen. I’ve always had freckles so spots are not a new phenomenon for me. But UNSIGHTLY? Have I really turned into a human that others can hardly bear to witness? I felt I needed to investigate.

I have used various mirrors and lighting to get a good look and have now decided…drumroll…I’m okay. At our next visit, she said it again. I asked, “does it look cancerous? Do we need to biopsy?” After intense scrutiny under her light and magnifier, she declared it “seemed okay, but we will watch it.” She commented on my unsightly spots the next three visits. I finally said, “If they aren’t dangerous, I’m going to have to live with the spotted look for now. My children’s college educations are taking the place of any vanity at the moment. I’m tapped out.” She actually started laughing and said, “Yeah I get it. Understood.” She hasn’t said anything since. I trust she will cut those unsightly spots off when they start to look more troubling. In the meantime, I will embrace my inner (and, I guess, outer, cheetah). My name is Kat, after all.