I went for my annual skin check this week, and when I say annual I mean the second one I’ve ever gone to. The first was after I read a scary skin cancer article in Women’s Health, and this time was the “annual” follow up that I accidentally waited two years to schedule. What can I say? Um, time flies?
Skin checks are such a strange situation in that your entire body is being inspected. Meticulously. Top to bottom. It’s the sort of strange, standing-under-fluorescent-lights-naked-while-someone-assesses-you–top-to-bottom situation that’s only otherwise occurred in my worst sorority hazing nightmares (What, like you don’t have those?). I honestly don’t think anyone has ever—or will ever—look at my body so closely in my entire life, and I’m perfectly happy with that. To make matters even more awkward, as I was in the midst of getting the total body inspection the doctor and I had this conversation:
Doctor: You have a concerning level of sun damage for your age.
Me: Really? Yikes, well yeah, I grew up at the beach…
Doctor: (pouncing) Oh really? Do you go to the beach a lot?
Me: Well, um, my parents still live there so I try to go as much as I can.
Doctor: Mmm-hmmm. Well you know that you should NOT be laying out at all, right? Laying out is very bad under any circumstance.
Doctor: Laying out even with sunscreen can cause very serious damage, do you understand?
Me: Blank stare.
Doctor: You should not be laying out, do you understand?
Me: You mean I should sit under an umbrella or something?
Doctor: No, I mean you should not sit out in the sun under any circumstances.
Man, whatever happened to getting your daily dose of vitamin D?
P.S. Thank God I didn’t tell her about this!