Clipped, Stitched and Burned

My dermatologist visit went well. I really like the PA I had. He should have his own TV series. He had me laughing most of the time I was there. They didn't leave me alone long enough to take pictures, like my dentist does. Too bad. I had my camera and I was ready. He also had a nice option there. He set up a little "store." There was a shelf stocked with tons of samples, with a plastic bags available. I was invited to "shop" and take any sample in which I was interested. Cool.

Background for my dermatogy parania: My Grandma Tooley (my mom's mom) died from melanoma. We are mostly Irish in genetic background - which brings light skin, freckles and moles. Lovely when you are young. Scary as you age. So - I wouldn't say I know every mole on my body by name, but... If a mole gives me a slightest doubt, it dies.

For almost a year I have had concerns about several things on my face. Other than the wrinkles. It's taken months to get an appointment that I could actually arrange to attend. They book appoints 6 weeks out. In six weeks, my whole life would turn upside down and it would be impossible to get there. This was my third appointment - and I wanted to address everything I possibly could. The doctor was awesome!

Only one of my concerns might have been pre-cancerous growth. He was willing to freeze it into oblivion. All the others, he said he would take care of "for fun" because I wanted them gone. One of the skin tags was on the very edge of my eyelid. It's always been there. I used to be able to cover it with eyeliner but as I aged, it became bigger. I stopped wearing eyemake up because of its presence.

My cute doctor warned that it was in a very sensitive spot. It didn't have to come off for health reasons, but was easy to do if I wanted it gone. I did. It would involve getting s shot in the eyelid to deaden it; then he could just snip it off.

I also had a cyst along my jaw line that I hated. It gave me an appearance (in my opinion) that I had a wad of chewing tobacco in my cheek. Maybe no one else noticed, but it bothered me. He excised it. I will have a scar there - a line. A line is better than a tabacco wad. I hope.

I had some skin tags that I hate. I think they are gross. They weren't noticable to anyone but my hubby and I - but I hated them. He said he could easily freeze them and they would flake off. Again, "for fun," if I wanted. I wanted.

The doctor had his assistant do the deadening and then he came in. He smiled charmingly and kind of winked. "Did you like how I deligated that off?" I agreed he had been very slick. "I"M not going to be the bad guy! I come in and make things better. SHE inflicts the pain..." Seconds later I was skin-tag-less!

The skin tags die a slow death. He shoots liquid nitrogen on them. It is so cold, it feels like a burn. It causes frostbite for small, selected areas. They die, and drop off as they heal. He warned that it would hurt. He said we have as much "fun" as I could stand. When I had "all the fun" I could stand, he would stop. It would be up to me. He said he would would go for the "best and brightest."

He started freezing the spots. The ones by my eyebrows were the most painful. As he progressed, he asked if I was doing okay. I said "No problem." He said, "You REALLY want these things gone, don't you?" "Yep."

If they die, it will be worth it.