Last week I had an appointment to see my dermatologist about a spot on my elbow. No big deal. I rolled in and they took me into an exam room. The assistant then said " ok, remove everything but your underwear and the doctor will be right in."
Wait...what? For my elbow?
"She wants to do a body check today for moles and any possible pre-cancerous" conditions"
Ah.
So, in a split nano second. I did a quick mental inventory.
Totally shaved and hairless from the neck down.
Tiny white cotton string bikini.
B cup breasts.
Ok
Now in the past, I have always stopped shaving a few months before a physical, worn more male underwear, and my breasts were smaller or earlier still non existant.
But, well, thought I who cares?
I stripped and waited.
The doctor, who is an attractive woman in her early thirties (I would guess) normally talks incessantly. She is quite pleasant but very talkative. She walked in and, bless her heart, never missed a beat. She continued her normal social prattle throughout the exam and not a word was said about my obviously feminine appearance.
Her assistant though provided a different reaction. The assistant is a sweet and funny slightly older African American woman (think Whoopy Goldberg) who has the task of taking notes and trying to keep up with my talkative doc. She is quite humorous normally.
Well, she walked through the door slightly behind the doctor.
It was all I could do and took every bit of self control I had to not just burst out laughing and rolling on the floor. Her reaction when she saw my chest was straight out of Roger Rabbit. Her jaw hit the floor and she pulled a literal jowl shaking triple take. Her eyes, briefly, were as big as grapefruits and practically bugged right out of her head.
It was priceless.
Of course, she recovered quickly, and after that the examination proceeded quite normally, and with no mention at all of my appearance.
It was a funny moment and one I quite enjoyed.
There was a time, girls, when I might have been mortified by this, but no more.
Rather, it seems just one more step in my acceptance of myself. Had they asked, I would have had no trouble readily explaining. They did not ask, though, so other than the one humorous moment, it was a non event.
My take away is that we often project fears that have no basis in reality, and in doing so, can be our own worst enemy.
But no more for Sammie. I just don't care anymore. Life is too short, right?
Hugs
Originally Posted by samantha rogers
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