I had a long overdue visit to the Dermatologist today. About six years overdue, honestly. I've had two precancerous moles removed in years prior, and since I've moved to the land of everlasting UV rays I've been terribly negligent about following up.
I have a standard list of responses I know I'll have to cycle through at least once every visit:
1. Yes, I know my skin is dry. My skin is always dry.
2. No, I don't have a "skin care routine." No, I don't have time for a routine. Shut up already. I know my skin is dry.
3. Yes, those certainly ARE a lot of tattoos. That? Its a Claddagh. Claddagh. Its an Irish thing. No, they didn't hurt all that much.
4. No, I don't want to buy your $40 teeny weensy tube of super duper exfoliating spf 150 perfecting skin cream.
It wasn't all that bad, though. Dr. Smith was rather cute and funny, and he very kindly took care of the small broken veins next to my nose for nothing more than the cost of the tears it brought to my eyes when he zapped them. He did go on rather monotonously about my dry skin, but I'm used to that, so it didn't bother me all that much. Best thing though was that I didn't have to give up any of my moles to the scalpel today. As I've written before, I'm not real big on needles OR blood, so any day I don't have to consciously avert my eyes I chalk it up as a win.
He asked me how often I wore sunscreen. I asked him if "almost never" was a good answer, for which I received a withering glare.
I was a sun worshipper. A sun worshipper who turned into a dirt worshipper and an outdoorswoman who could give a crap about whether her nails are clean or her skin has small pores and looks young. Sunscreen just seems like a good way to waste an opportunity to be outside and turn brown. The last thing I want to do in the summer, when its 95F is to put on long sleeves and a hat for a trail ride. I'm not really keen on resembling Moist from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, the supervillain whose superpower gives him the inside track on sweaty palms and drippage.
I got to keep my moles today. And when I look at my beautiful kids, with their clear, soft, white skin, I think maybe its time for me to start modeling better habits.
I like my moles.