So, I went back to my BFF on Monday to have my stitches removed. I'll tell ya, nothing has been like my first experience with this place. I know what happens... they hook you at your first meeting, and, like everything else, they slowly let you down by bringing you back to reality. I should always always know better.
Not that I don't find something new to experience and amuse myself (and my sister via text) with... and then write about... at every encounter. And Monday was no exception. The told me at my surgery that, after they removed my sutures, I was going to receive a complimentary skin consultation. Complimentary! Now that's what I've been looking for!
They made me wait. Again. (You know, I don't have a bladder problem, but I swear I have to pee every time I go there. I can't figure it out. Maybe it's the couches?)
Aaanyway. While I waited, I decided to investigate the waiting room a little more thoroughly. Previously, I've only had time to look at (and not remember, obviously) the color of the furniture. This time, I had plenty of time to peruse the many props throughout the waiting area.
Time magazine? Check. Cleveland magazine (really?)? Check. Coffee table books? Check. Check. Check.
Names of said books?
An Owner's Manual for Inner and Outer Beauty (I could be paraphrasing here)
You Staying Young. The Owner's Manual for Extending Your Warranty.
Some Liz Taylor book about diamonds (naturally).
Oh man, I love this place. So much material. So little time.
Just as I was getting ready to learn how to extend my warranty, my metrosexual nurse (he's back!) took me back to an exam room. Yay! I was going to get my skin consultation. He was going to tell me how to make my skin more elastic without surgery. He was going to save me from old age.
Yeah. Not so much.
He put me under an ultraviolet light and allowed me to look into a mirror. I could've done without the mirror. Let me tell you, ultraviolet light is unforgiving. I looked dead. And bruised. At the same time. He explained what the different colors meant. Most of it stood for sun damage. I find that interesting since I'm the person who never gets a tan. I noticed 3 microscopic (no bigger than the head of a pin) bright white dots on my face.
Those dots? Perfect skin. Oh, of course.
At any rate, he gave me some complimentary (!) cream, the stitches came out without issue, and I finished my antibiotic on Tuesday.
Do you know I've been on antibiotics for... when was Easter? Yes, before Easter. I have had enough. I'm ready to drink again. And with birthday week coming up, it couldn't have happened at a better time. Let the good times roll!
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