Advertisements

Wearing a paper towel.

Today I went to a new doctor. My old dermatologist moved. I avoided going and starting with another because, well, for no good reason.

I went to the new office, filled out a couple pages of information about myself and went back to an examining room. The nurse spoke to me for a few minutes, then handed me a folded paper thing and instructed me to hang my clothes up and cover myself with the paper sheet. She left the room and I did what she asked me to.

Even though she said paper sheet, my mind convinced me what she meant was paper hospital gown.

Yeah, I make this look good.

As I unfolded the paper I realized that when she referred to the folded paper as a paper sheet, that is literally what it was. A paper sheet. It was actually a lot like a big paper towel, slightly reinforced…maybe four feet long.

So now I’m sitting there holding the quicker picker upper over my various parts. I’ve got time to think about my plight.

Soon the doctor will come in. Yes, she is a medical professional and my being covered in Bounty is at her behest. It isn’t like I walked into a random office, took off my clothes and swaddled myself in wood pulp fiber. Still, I’m uncomfortable.

What is the etiquette here? I am meeting someone new. I was raised to stand and shake hands when that happens. Of course, I think my folks assumed I would not be wearing a paper sheet while I met new people. How difficult would it have been to make some paper sleeves and stick them on the paper sheet? I decide it is best to go with a left hand sheet hold and shake with my right.

Excuse me, can I borrow a pen?

“Oh no, don’t get up” she says as she comes in. The doctor leads off with a ten minute discussion of skin cancer, sun exposure, protecting the skin and my genetic disposition toward skin cancer. Actually, it was very informative. Much more so than my previous dermatologist ever was. I would have liked to make some notes on what she told me, but there is no pocket in my paper sheet, so I don’t have a pen. Nothing but my giblets under the sheet.

The doctor is actually very nice and educates me quite a bit as she works. She initially recommends before the exam starts  that I get back on the schedule of getting checked yearly. As she works, she amends that to every six months. She is making a lot of notes. It’s not looking good for the guy wearing the paper towel.

I have six biopsies ahead of me. Six. I’ve had them before, but one, maybe two at a time. Six. Maybe I shouldn’t have waited so long. They’ve all been OK in the past. They will be this time.

You shouldn’t wait either.

I’m considering bringing some masking tape and making an apron sort of thing out of the paper sheet when I go back. I know she’s going to tell me not to get up. It just seems like something I should be doing though.

The Skin Cancer Foundation

Add to DeliciousAdd to DiggAdd to FaceBookAdd to Google BookmarkAdd to RedditAdd to StumbleUponAdd to TechnoratiAdd to Twitter

Advertisements

19 Comments on “Wearing a paper towel.”

  1. queensgirl says:

    I hope everything goes well, Oma.

  2. shutterboo says:

    Welcome to the woman’s world – we don paper towels for the lady doctor. Makes the moment more enchanting. 🙂

  3. Kate says:

    There is something about visiting the dermatologist that is very unnnerving. I have a lot of moles that need to be checked out once a year. There is something that freaks me out about a doctor intently examining my most private bits — I mean, it’s worse than the OBGYN to me. Maybe that’s because the OBGYN offers sheets with arm holes.

  4. Pauline says:

    SIX biopsies? That sucks! But I hope everything turns out well!:)

  5. linlah says:

    Hope the biopsies come back in your favor but I’m thinking that duct tape might be more durable than the masking tape.

  6. Tanya says:

    Hope you receive good news, Owa!! If we think we uncomfortable in these situations, just imagine what the doctor thinks….. they have no idea what lurks underneath that veil of paper! I know what is under there and I’m scared!!!

  7. Pie says:

    I hope those biopsies go well, Oma. I haven’t been a reader of this blog long, but you feel like a mate to me already. Your postings certainly make me laugh. I expect that to be the case for many more years to come.

    By the way, this could be a good time to learn origami or something. It’ll make those sheets more attractive, don’t you think?

    • omawarisan says:

      Thank you…I’m sure they will be ok. Glad to have you and everyone stopping by.

      Origami for the paper sheet. Interesting idea. Please note that I am resisting a unicorn joke here.

  8. KathiD says:

    Good lord, SIX? Sheesh.

    I avoid the dermatologist because nearly everybody in my family has had skin cancer, and also because I always fear that the dermatologist will look TOO MANY PLACES on my body, or NOT ENOUGH PLACES. Since both things cannot be true at once, I’m always disappointed. Or not.

    • omawarisan says:

      Oh you’ve got to go. When you are picking your doctor, just ask sleeves or sheet.

      I’m thinking my insurance doesn’t cover sleeves.

      I was avoiding it partly for the same family reason. of course, then there was the whole Y chromosome driven guys dont go to the doctor thing which I know is stupid. Knowing something is stupid isn’t always enough for many of us.

  9. KathiD says:

    I went to a new gynecologist once. She seemed very young. As part of the history, she asked, “Are you sexually active?”

    I said, “Well, I’m married.” She nodded.

    I continued, “So, you know, NO.”

  10. planetross says:

    I think most doctors think I’m benign … as do most other people. hee hee!
    I hope all are just freckles.

    note: I like the new theme. It suits your posts … or posts your suits … or something like that.

    note to myself: write entries with a “more” link after the first paragraph.

    double note to myself: write entries with more than one paragraph.


So, what's on your mind?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s