Skip to main content

Vulnera-mole

I recently got some health insurance. It's amazing how much peace of mind one can have knowing that in case some dirty kids get ya sick...you can actually get some affordable medicine! Since it's the off season in my industry, in other words school is out for summer, I don't worry about this quite as much as I worry about things like that weird lookin' mole on my left thigh.

I scheduled a full-on, check 'er all out, physical last week. The insurance I have has a list of providers much like any other. I scrolled down and found the first doctor that met my three requirements:
1) Within 20 minutes of my house, gas these days is rough. 2) A female...for annual exam situations and such 3) A last name which I can pronounce. Not that I don't enjoy and appreciate other cultures and even a thick accent from time to time (especially on a tall, dark and handsome male) but, in conversations about my irregularly frequent heart burn for example, I'd like to have all communication barriers avoided...this is also part of the reason for requirement #2.

So Dr. Lund made the cut. She's even kind of a hippie, gotta love it. After many a question, she left the room and had me strip on down. I vulnerably asked, "Everything off?" for the sake of being thorough of course. "Yup, everything." So I sat on the tissue table cloth and put the comfortable and stylish, cut-out paper sheets over myself. I expressed some concern about a few moles (along with the heart burn) so she of course was going to take a look...at everything. Again, requirement #2 is a must, know your non-negotiables! I thought she was finished when she caught the two "suspicious" moles (I love how they use this word for such an inanimate object. Really? My mole is suspicious? Is it going to rob me or something!?) Then she casually said, "Okay now stand up." With paper sheets off I stood in the center of the small room, now in front of my tissue table cloth, spread eagle and completely in the buff! She checked samore for suspiciousness and then let me sit back down.

I wanted so badly to blurt out...

Dr. Lund, I feel so vulneraMOLE!!!

Comments

stephanier said…
hahahha so witty and quick you are!

Popular posts from this blog

This ship's about to sail

Here in Man Diego there are a lot of...you guessed it, MEN! I've encountered a few. Although I've made some strides in my effort to leave behind "Blanket Statements" (which ironically can be shortened to B.S.) I still hold onto some of the reasonable ones. We've talked before, well I've written and you've read rather, about dating and the inevitable game of text messaging. Thanks to At&T's unlimited plan I haven't gone completely broke yet. Texting is by far the #1 men's choice for communicating. Those fellas just love it. It's less effort than a call and seemingly more friendly than an email. My point is texting is where it's at. You better believe that if you're in your mid 20's anywhere remotely in the vicinity you will be utilizing this technological beast. I went on a date about 2 weeks ago with a "Nice" guy. Note: "Blog guy" existed somewhere in the middle of nice guy's stint. Remember m...

You know the guy hitting on you is a HOBO when....

1. His dog is waiting for him outside the bar, and at times actually joins him in the bar. 2. He has a backpack. 3. When asking for your number he pulls out a non functioning cell phone... typical collecting of random found items. 4. When the cell phone clearly doesn't work, he pulls out a piece of paper and a black sharpie. 5. Instead of calling you, he wants to "come by" later...mostly because of the no phone situation and lack of housing...and money. 6. He wants to come to your house for the following purposes: to use your razor to shave, your shower to bathe and most likely your home for shelter. 7. His "story" leads you to believe he was once rich, handsome and smart. 8. His "friends" and he hang out outside "Stars and Stripes" liquor store drinking 40's, instead of on his "boat" cuz the "owner is cool." 9. Instead of buying you a beer he pulls one out of his shopping cart. 10. He is barefoot....

Which girl are you gonna fluff?

I always envy those sales people who are so enthralled with their product that their enthusiasm nears eerie. After being fitted for my latest bridesmaid dress I was told I would be needing a very, very special bra...one nothing less than what can be purchased at The Perfect Fit in Tustin, California. We went to the shop and the saleswoman was one of these folks who LOVES what she sells. I was so blown away by her passion for undergarments that I didn't even catch her name. For now we'll call her the "Bra enthusiast (BE)." BE took me into the antique decorated fitting room. There was one of those old school, fabric stools, which was used to hold my current (and apparently ghetto) bra and a thick velvet curtain used to hide my shirtlessness. BE was very intense. Her bra-related verbiage was spoken with precision and seriousness. This was a no-nonsense matter. She started by measuring me. I asked if she needed me to take off the bra I was wearing, wanting an accurat...