If Only He Could Have Stitched My Ego

Last week I paid my dermatologist a visit for the annual mole scan and he decided that two had to go, so I enthusiastically asked for the next appointment possible. Yes, I wanted to remove anything freaky from my body ASAP, but my dermatologist also happens to be ADORABLE. So, yes, I would happily plan to see him again.

It's OK, people, Matt sees him too and might even have a man crush on him. He's fully aware that I swoon, encourages it even. Going on...

Most of the ladies in my office also see the Hot Doc, so he's become a frequent topic in our office as someone or other seems to be paying him naked and often embarrassing visits every couple of months. So, my mole removal was kind of big news. When one of my co-workers offered to grab me lunch while she ran out, I declined citing my upcoming visit to the Hot Doc.

I was reminded that eating might be a good idea to make sure I didn't pass out. But, seriously, passing out wouldn't be all bad... It would mean passing out in the arms of Hot Doc. I was willing to risk it. I called Matt to make sure he was fully aware of my diabolic plan. He was cool with it, joked that he hoped I would need mouth to mouth resuscitation, and I was on my way on an empty stomach.

The first mole was removed from my right bra line area. Yes, there was plenty of giggling. The next was on my back, so I had to flip over. As I did, my vision was clouded with tiny white points of light.

"Um, I'm kinda seeing stars. No big deal. Just want to give you the heads up," I said. The stars continued to close in and then I felt light-headed.

"Yup, I'm a little light headed now. I'm not the passing out-type, but I just thought you might want to know," I said.

"OK, just let me know if you feel like you're going to throw up and I'll get you something to do it in." What?!?! Seriously? A barf bag? Clearly I had totally overestimated his savior reflexes. A moment later he finished the stitches and we were done, I made a couple of weak jokes, peppered with nervous laughter, and he was on his way.

He wanted me to wait a couple of minutes before I could get up, leaving me with a nurse who argued with my "I'm fine" protests. Ugh.

I texted Matt that I was done and he replied that he was outside waiting for me. Of course. I walked out of the building and told him I wasn't feeling well, that I needed to eat something. He gave me a sympathetic eyebrow raise.

"Are you wearing lipstick?" he asked.