Thursdays. I've never liked Thursdays. Useless days. It's not the middle of the week, not the end of the week. Just kind of there. I don't even like how the word sounds. Thhhuurrrsssday. Ick. It's a bad word.
I get to spend this particular Thursday at the dermatologist being zapped repeatedly with a lazer. You see, I have very fair skin and apparently it's currently very thin. Not in the 'take everything the wrong way and blow up in your face' kind of thin, but it's actually thin. Because of the anemia I bleed. A lot. You would think the body would say, "Oh, wow. We don't have a lot of blood so we should keep as much of it as possible and set up some kind of wonderous biological thing that doesn't allow you to lose any blood unless really, really, necessary." To be honest, I can't think of one instance when it would be really, really, necessary to lose any blood, but bodies are perverse and instead it starts to wonder to itself, "how much blood does one really need?" and then it begins some kind of weird contest with itself to see exactly how little it can survive on by getting rid of your hard earned blood in strange and creative ways. Like bleeding into your skin.
Now, my body has decided that bleeding into my skin is a great thing to do when bored. So, I have these little red dots all over me and the nice dermatologist, whom I am fairly certain changed his name from Dr. Frankenstein to avoid suspicion and lull people into a false sense of security, got super excited and told me he could remove them. Easy peasy. With a lazer.
Now, I have had the lazer thing done before. It was not fun. Imagine being snapped repeatedly by a rubber band over and over and over. Snap, snap, snap. It sucks. So, my response to Dr. Frankenstein was, "Um...no. Thank you but I am okay."
Now, this evil man tried a new tactic on me that no doctor has tried before. His face became very sad, and he pulled a guilt trip on me.
As we all know, I am not good when people do unexpected things. This was totally unexpected. I caved like a wet paper bag.
I was rewarded with a big smile and an appointment to my doom. Okay, a bit dramatic but 'appointment to my severe discomfort' just doesn't sound as good.
I am already feeling seriously sulky about the whole thing. I will demand much cookies and attention and serious babying when I get home. Being realistic, I'll just settle for the cookies.
Read more...
Thursdays. I've never liked Thursdays. Useless days. It's not the middle of the week, not the end of the week. Just kind of there. I don't even like how the word sounds. Thhhuurrrsssday. Ick. It's a bad word.
Read more...I get to spend this particular Thursday at the dermatologist being zapped repeatedly with a lazer. You see, I have very fair skin and apparently it's currently very thin. Not in the 'take everything the wrong way and blow up in your face' kind of thin, but it's actually thin. Because of the anemia I bleed. A lot. You would think the body would say, "Oh, wow. We don't have a lot of blood so we should keep as much of it as possible and set up some kind of wonderous biological thing that doesn't allow you to lose any blood unless really, really, necessary." To be honest, I can't think of one instance when it would be really, really, necessary to lose any blood, but bodies are perverse and instead it starts to wonder to itself, "how much blood does one really need?" and then it begins some kind of weird contest with itself to see exactly how little it can survive on by getting rid of your hard earned blood in strange and creative ways. Like bleeding into your skin.
Now, my body has decided that bleeding into my skin is a great thing to do when bored. So, I have these little red dots all over me and the nice dermatologist, whom I am fairly certain changed his name from Dr. Frankenstein to avoid suspicion and lull people into a false sense of security, got super excited and told me he could remove them. Easy peasy. With a lazer.
Now, I have had the lazer thing done before. It was not fun. Imagine being snapped repeatedly by a rubber band over and over and over. Snap, snap, snap. It sucks. So, my response to Dr. Frankenstein was, "Um...no. Thank you but I am okay."
Now, this evil man tried a new tactic on me that no doctor has tried before. His face became very sad, and he pulled a guilt trip on me.
As we all know, I am not good when people do unexpected things. This was totally unexpected. I caved like a wet paper bag.
I was rewarded with a big smile and an appointment to my doom. Okay, a bit dramatic but 'appointment to my severe discomfort' just doesn't sound as good.
I am already feeling seriously sulky about the whole thing. I will demand much cookies and attention and serious babying when I get home. Being realistic, I'll just settle for the cookies.