The Dermatologist

A couple of years ago, I reached out to our family doctor for a dermatologist referral for my husband. He’s  been seeing the dermatologist every six months for the last couple of years. His family’s medical history leads him to take seriously the scoping, probing, and surveying involved in getting rid of any funny spots or barnacles that may be found.
I often forget his appointments unless he reminds me or returns with bandages on his body where a mole once was. He finally reminded me last month that I have actually never been. As a good husband, he wants to make sure I’ve been “checked out.” So I went.
My appointment was early on a Friday morning, so I came in sluggish…no makeup, vaseline still around my eyelids, and very, very bad hair. I’m not sure what about going to see a doctor makes me feel that there are no judgements, but I always believe it. I always think, they’ve seen a whole lot worse…especially the OBGYN’s.

A woman walked in who was about my age, but not about my beauty barometer. Dang, they hire some gorgeous physician’s assistants. When she introduced her blonde locks, blue eyes, and perfect face to me as the actual doctor, I almost fell out of my chair.
At first slowly, and then quickly, my neurons fired. This is the dermatologist. This is the doctor whose been seeing my husband every six months. This is the woman who has been surveying my property, peeking here and there around his valuables for “moles.”
I peered at her through my sucker-punched-looking eyes, my mind racing. But first, her skin. It was so perfect. 
“You guys offer cosmetic injections here?” I tried to stay professional, but I was way beyond a normal skin check here.
“Yes we do!” she exclaimed convincingly.
I stared longer.
“Do you use botox?” I asked, not seeing a wrinkle in sight.
“I do.” she said, divulging how easy and affordable it was.
When my husband got home that evening, I told him I saw the dermatologist.
“Good for you,” he said {and nothing more}. 
I glanced at the business card for the dermatologist’s resident botoxer, secretly deciding to save it for a rainy/terrible self-esteem day. When I come back to see that bombshell, you bet I’ll be ready. 

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