Bionic Woman

Today I went to my dermatologist, Dr. P, because last time I was there he said he would laser this small red scar off my cheek for free. (Secret: I have always wanted to do something about that small red scar on my cheek.) I figured it would be superficial and vain, though, to spend hundreds of dollars on something like a tiny red dot when other girls are walking around with their arms chewed off by sharks and they're not complaining. I feared this would be the first step on my way to Botox injections and breast implants and running a sweat shop completely on the backs of small children.

But see, free is a totally different thing. Now, instead of being shallow, I get to be thrifty.

First Dr. P gave me this pair of goggles to wear that reminded me of the ones they give you in tanning beds. Only I made the mistake of mentioning this and then had to quickly backpedal, seeing as how I was in a dermatologist’s office. “I mean, I don’t go anymore. It was a long time ago, and I barely even remember it. Really!” And it’s true. You don’t get skin this freakishly pale by frequenting tanning booths. I haven’t been since high school, and that was because the Prom was coming up and we Alaska girls didn’t want to blend in with the snow in the pictures. Don’t judge me.

Dr. P started up this huge machine in the corner, put this laser pen/welding torch against my skin, and said, “Now, this is going to hurt like the dickens.” Tell me, have you ever had a doctor say such a thing to you? Usually they’re all, “Now, you may feel some pressure for a moment” or “Now, you may feel a slight pinch.” This is how you know that some part of you is about to be flattened or ripped off or run through with a jousting lance. So, here’s a professional understater using the words “like the dickens,” and he’s talking about my face. Then he acted surprised when every muscle in my body seized up and I braced myself for an impact of nuclear proportions. “Woah, it’s not going to hurt as much as that.”

I thought it would only take a second, since there was just the one scar, but Dr. P ended up zapping me about 15 times all over the place. I started to feel like a metal shop project--I bet he just liked the sparks. As he was going to town and I started having visions of blackened, charred meat, I reminded myself, “This is free. He is making you beautiful for free. And if he finds other microscopic flaws that he wants to fix for free, you will let him.”

Then he tells me that I may end up with very distinctive round bruises on my face, but that makeup should be able to cover them. Great. People will see me and think that I fell on the wrong end of a crutch or pogo stick and narrowly avoided putting out an eye.

I’m pretty sure that all that laser exposure has given me super powers. So if Mr. Fantastic wants to come over later and compare skills, I’ll be ready for him.


Th. said... [reply]


The last time I saw a doctor was to get a mole extracted from my back using a dentist's equipment.

Cost me twenty bucks.

And I will never even get to see the scar, whether distinctively rounded or not.

CoolMom said... [reply]

Why didn't you mention this during the last two weekes while I was visiting? As I was reading this I couldn't decide whether to pass out or just barf. I'm still trying to decide.

Th. said... [reply]


Me, I laughed. A lot. At Nemesis's expense. (Sorry.)

daltongirl said... [reply]

I think it's cool that you have super powers now. Also, I can't wait to see the bruises all over your face, because that will make me laugh even harder.

There's a price for shallowness, and you must pay it. I couldn't hold my baby for a week after the surgery. (Maybe that's why she now acts as though she has attachment disorder/abandonment issues.) But once the price is paid, you feel so very superior to all your fellow human beings/superheroes that it's all worth it.

Coop said... [reply]

1) It appears to be the consensus opinion on the internet that "like the dickens" means "like the devil." It's first recorded use was in Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor. Bet you didn't think your doctor was such a scholar!

2) Your minor surgery reminds me of a friend I grew up with (Red--comments here randomly) who, throughout his life, couldn't stick his tongue out very far. In fact, he couldn't stick it outside of his mouth at all. Anyway, just a little while ago, probably a year or so, he got that little flap of skin underneath his tongue clipped so that he could stick it out. Cost him 20 bucks and a big needle in the mouth (he's deathly afraid of needles), but he wanted to be able to kiss better (let me just say it before you do: guys have a one-track mind). It must have worked though, 'cause now he's getting married. I kind of miss the old tongue though, he always looked so funny as a kid trying to stick his tongue out. It looked like a turtle whose shell-hole was too small to actually get a head out. Not that I've ever seen that. But that would be funny if I did. Anyway...sorry for the random story.

Nemesis said... [reply]

Bwah! Okay, that's hysterical about Red's tongue. My little brother had that done when he was little, but it was in the hope that he would start saying his r's and l's--not so much to improve his prowess with the ladies.

ambrosia ananas said... [reply]

Hmmm. I was trying to find a picture of you online to show Coworker M* who should already know who you are. Only guess what I learned while looking for you? You are married and live in Florida, where you're raising your two children, Jupiter and James Geronimo. I'm not even kidding. The good news is, you're published.

So apparently you've landed a husband. Hope that Horatio isn't too disappointed and stuff.

Th. said... [reply]


You realize we're all going to be looking for that now, don't you....

Savvymom said... [reply]

Every time I see the title of this post I think of Arthur the TV show, and his friend Buster, who likes Bionic Bunny. Wierd. I think i need to watch KBYU less.

daltongirl said... [reply]

Yeah, Bionic Bunny is a wannabe. Jaime Somers, the real bionic woman, who could open cans with her fingernails, is the one you should be thinking of.

I worshipped that woman. I had posters, torn from the pages of Teen Beat magazine, hanging in my room.

My friends and I played Steve Austin and Jaime Somers (just sexual tension, like on the show--no actual kissing or touching).

Thank you, Nemesis, for reminding me of the good times.

Nemesis said... [reply]

Um . . . I'm gonna leave that one alone.

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