I went to a dermatologist a few weeks ago. (On a Sunday! How weird is that?) The guy was an idiot.
One of the first things I said to him was, “Do you have any experience with hiv positive patients?” A reasonable question, I thought.
He looked down at some papers, started laughing, and said, “Not if I can help it! ~hahahahehehehohohosnortsnort~” Then he cheerfully blathered on about how, statistically speaking, he was unlikely to come across hiv in his practice. He implied it was only those in the lower echelons of society who had hiv and well, “I don’t see patients like that”. Then he looked back up at me and said, “Why?”
“Because,” I said, “you have a statistic standing right in front of you and this statistic wants to make sure you know what the hell you’re doing before I let you anywhere near me.” I thought he was going to faint!
He bumbled through a flustered speech about how he would refer me on to a “more experienced colleague” if there were anything he was unsure about. Well goodie-goodie-goo! Sheesh! I figured I might as well let him have a look as my Sunday morning - and that of my friend who drove me to the appointment - was already buggered.
After he composed himself, I showed him all the different spots my GP and I were concerned about. He identified them, and said while none of them was anything to worry about, he could freeze the bigger ones off my back. Then he gave me several info sheets detailing what types of spots I have. They all had thumbnail photos and one looked just like a clit nestled in pubic hair - and I told him so. He peered closely at it and said, “Oh my God! You’re right! Nobody pointed that out before - but it really, really does look like that!”
“Well,” I said, “I tend to speak my mind - even when it’s something people don’t necessarily want to hear.” He looked up at me and grimaced. LOL
Next, he got the nitrogen bottle out and sat down on the exam table and instructed me to stand in front of him. Yep, I had to stand while he sat. It wasn’t easy standing still; it hurt like hell and it would have been much easier if he’d had me lay face-down on the table. When he was finished, I told him that if his hands were shaking that much (and they were) that he had to sit down instead of me while he performed a treatment, maybe he should find another line of work were he wouldn’t run into statistics like me. He did a pretty good imitation of a fish out of water - gasping for air - but didn’t reply.
I’m sure he had to go lie down after I left! And NO, if I need the attention of a dermatologist again, it WON’T be him!
Oh, and by the way... I showed my 21 y/o daughter the info sheets, but said nothing about that certain photo. When she got to the relevant page the first thing she said was, “Why is there a rude photo on this one?” hehehe... so it wasn’t just me and my over-active, over-sexed imagination!