Full Circle

Entertainingly enough, I have come full circle.

Nearly two years ago, I came to this hospital for a group appointment to discuss options for laser hair removal. I really can't stand shaving, even though I've been doing it nearly every day for over last two decades, and wanted another option. I went to check out laser hair removal as it promised quick (sweet!) and painless (awesome!). The reality is far from the idealized version of such promises, but that's the subject of another post.

Today, I'm sitting here again. This time, as an after patient. I'm here with three old women with names like Gertrude, Arvilla and Palmina. Fifty years from now, will some punk kid look at me sitting across the room and think my name is odd?

The other people are here to listen to the presentation about the Mohs procedure: what it means, what to expect. I have never seen this video before. I'd like to see it, but I'll be heading into the back room while the rest of the crew watches the full video.

Once again, I feel like I'm in the wrong place. What am I doing here with these old people? I'm reminded of when Mom's second husband's mother told us about why she stopped going to her high school reunions: it was full of old people. She'd look at all these white haired people that she used to know and think, "Where did all these old people come from?" They reminded her of her own age, and who wants to be reminded of that?

Note to self: send an email to Scott. Before the email address I have doesn't work any more.

Holy crap.

A woman my age just walked in!

With her mother!

Okay, the older woman is her cousin. But her cousin looks old enough to be her mother. And she doesn't look old enough to have skin cancer.

Which may be the point.

It happens. It happens to a lot of people. Ask around. Just about everyone you know will know someone who has had some form of skin cancer or growth that needed to be removed. The only time it's a worry is when it's located close to something important (can you say, "eye?").

Time to get the stitches out