Dermatologist
I am a 50+ year old man who tries to stay healthy. Part of that is visiting the doctor's office. While this is a work of fiction, it is based on an actual visit. The names have been changed to protect the staff.
Includes: exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, and M/F sex.
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I've reached that wonderful age where, being a redhead, I need to visit the dermatologist every year to get the various moles and bumps that appear checked out. Being a redhead, patience isn't one of my strengths. If I need to do something, I want to just do it and get it done. If I need to be somewhere, I prefer to be five minutes early than one minute late. While I gave up wearing a watch many years ago to try and quell my focus on time, it still stresses me. Over the last six months a bump has appeared on the top of my head which causes my wife some concern. She encouraged me to call the doctor and have it removed. Given my father had spots removed off his forehead every six months over the last 8 or so years of his life, I took her advice. He didn't die of skin cancer, but it runs in the family.
Let's add to the mix that I've recently moved to downtown Los Angeles. Parking is extremely expensive, so I've decided to give up my car. At the end of this month, I'm returning the lease I have and saving on the expense of the lease, the car insurance, and the parking spot rental. But that means, in a few weeks, I will be without convenient transportation. Los Angeles does have buses and a metro, but with Covid, public transportation is something I'm going to avoid as much as possible.
Given the way health insurance works, I needed to get a referral from my doctor, to see a dermatologist. Since I've changed locations, I needed to change my doctor--same insurance, just a different general physician. The top of the list for the nearest clinic was Doctor Lucinda Patterson. I made the change in my records and scheduled a phone appointment with her for the next day. Again, Covid, in person appointments were avoided if possible.
On Wednesday, Dr. Patterson called. We talked about my general health; this included me admitting I'd not been exercising as much as I should with my self-imposed isolation. So, I've gained weight. According to the charts, at six foot one, I should be one hundred eighty-five pounds. Even when I was in great shape in the military, I was lucky to be less than two hundred. Two-fifty was definitely over-weight. Dr. Patterson requested I get some lab work down to check my number. Afterwards, we could talk about a referral to dermatology.
I walked to the lab that afternoon--the clinic is only four blocks away. The results were in the next day. Yup, my bad cholesterol is high, my good cholesterol is low, my blood sugar is in the pre-diabetic range. They didn't check my blood pressure, but given my history, I was sure it was elevated too--it tends to go up when I gain weight.
The doctor called Friday morning. We had a lovely chat. While much of it was about my health, a good portion of the call was her just getting to know me. She found out I am married, I've been up and down with regard to weight, I recently moved to Los Angeles, and I am a software programmer. In the end she provided the referral I needed. "I'm referring you to dermatology. You just need to make an appointment.
The appointment system is online, so I logged in and requested the soonest appointment, half expecting my health provider to call back next week to tell me they had an opening in three weeks. However, thirty minutes after I made the online request a nurse called, "Mr. Wilson, I have an appointment at 3:30 this afternoon in Glendale or next Monday at 8 a.m. in Pasadena." Given I was about to be without a car, I opted for one this afternoon.
"Can you get here in twenty minutes?" the nurse asked.
"Google maps says it should take me sixteen, so I'll be close."
"Great, I've schedule you for 3:30 with Dr. Andrews, who is working with a resident Dr. Davis."
I work from home, which means I don't typically get dressed during the day, unless I go out for groceries or something. Ack, twenty minutes to get to the dermatologist in Glendale. I threw on a part of O'Neill swim shorts which double as beach jams, a t-shirt and my flipflops. Told the wife where I was going, grabbed my keys and a face mask, and headed out the door.
My apartment building doesn't have a parking structure, so I had to go down the block to where our car was parked. It was right at the start of rush hour (which last about five hours in Los Angeles), which also meant I couldn't take the left turn out of the garage which Google Maps suggest. Fine, I went around the block.
Traffic wasn't bad, not for LA, not for three on a Friday afternoon, but it wasn't stress free. By the time I arrived at the Glendale clinic it was 3:35. Then, I had to find parking. The clinic did have parking, but it wasn't intuitive as to where to park, or which building I had to go to get to the dermatologist. Inside the front door, there was a nurse taking everyone's temperature and asking questions to screen for Covid. Ack, another five minutes lost to get a little sticker to say I didn't have symptoms. At least the nurse guided me where to go for dermatology.
It was 3:45 by the time I checked in with the receptionist on the fifth floor. "That'll be twenty dollars today."
Shit, in my haste to get out the door I forgot my wallet. "Ugh, can you just bill me?"
"Yes, hold on." Have a few more questions confirming my date of birth, my current address, my patient number (fortunately, I had that number saved in my phone), and a half-dozen other 'security' questions, she process the appointment as a bill later. Then, she directed me to the waiting room at the far end of the hall.
Due to Covid, the room was filled with chairs, but most of them had a sign "Do not sit here" to allow for social distancing. There was no one in the room. This was the end of the day, end of the week, so I was probably the last appointment.
I sat down and opened my phone to scroll through the news. Sixteen percent battery left. Great! I was late for my appointment and my phone was likely to die while I sat waiting. A few minutes after I arrived another person came and sat down in a distant chair. I thought, "Shit, if I've missed my appointment and they call him before me, the stress of driving here was all for not." A patient came out from behind the secure door to the doctor's office. A few minutes later, another patient came out. There were voices behind the door that sounded like people chatting at the end of the day, cleaning up their desks and putting away paperwork. I was stressing I'd missed the appointment. My insurance would still bill me the co-pay and I'd have to make another appointment, after I had given up my car.
At that moment, the door secure opened and a petite nurse in a bright green nurses' uniform stepped out, "Mr. Wilson?"
I smiled, nodded, turned off the screen to my phone, and followed the nurse to the examination room. "Hello, Mr. Wilson. I am Matty, your nurse today. Dr. A will be doing your exam today. He works with a Dr. D, a resident, is that alright?" Her Latinx eyes smiled behind the bright blue mask she wore on her face for protection, soft black curls played about her face.
"Yes, that's fine."
Matty ticked on the computer in the room, "Please have a seat. Let's see." Looking over the appointment information, she said, "You're here for a bump on your head?"
"Yes."
"Great, let me get your weight, temperature, and blood pressure."
I stepped on the scales. Two forty-nine. "Ugh, I knew I was over-weight."
"Sorry, that scale is always giving people bad news." Matty made note of my weight and then put a thermometer up to my forehead.
