doesn't quite equal the anxiety level of a visit to the dentist but it creeps in that direction. i went to see a dermatologist for the very first time yesterday because of acne. over the past few months i have felt like puberty has come haunting to teach me a lesson on vanity. i've never been to a dermatologist before but when your own mother exclaims 'what happened to your face?' you know it's bad.
as i sat in the waiting room i glanced at a handful of people and wondered, 'what are they doing here?' i saw no acne, no blemishes, no skin conditions. i was a little embarrassed to look at anyone in their good state but also kinda relieved that their complexions were hopefully the result of a good doctor.
after a brief consultation with the dr.'s assistant, the doctor came in and sat on a round wheeled stool about 6 ft away from the examining table where i sat. a different assistant followed shortly with a pad and pen in hand. i voiced my questions and concerns. he answered, still on his stool, glancing at me and my chart. he began to prescribe medication. the assistant wrote on a prescription pad as he spoke. she handed the papers to the dr. who signed them and we were done. bada bing bada bang. i go back in 3 months for a follow up.
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