Waiting for a new tire Saturday, I decided to amuse myself (and my sister) by sharing an embarrassing story with her about my visit to the dermatologist.
I had basal cell carcinoma last year (you can read about it here) so I have to be more cautious about these types of things now.
After a long day of work sitting at a desk in a warm office, I had a late afternoon appointment for a full body skin cancer check. I wasn’t able to go home and change and felt…swampy.
So I texted her, and below is an absolute exact transcript.
Me to sister: Settle in. So, yesterday…
Sister to me: *puts the tea on
Me: I had a full body skin check, which was all clear, so good for me
Me: I was super conscious of my naked thighs sticking together
Me: Keep in mind I had sat my ass down all day
Sister: Like fruit strips on the roll. Hoo boy this is going to get good
Me: So she checks front of thighs and all is well.
Me: Then asks me to stand up and turn around
Me: Please refer to sitting all day
Me: So I stood up and tried to turn around
Sister: *blinking.* Paper got stuck up your crack?
Sister: DID YOU FALL
Sister: AND SHE HAD TO CATCH YOU
Me: The very tippy top of my fat ass thighs stuck together (I’m standing on the footstool part of the patient table)
Sister: Suction sound?
Me: So when I turned around the back of my left leg stayed turned around.
Me: I had to physically spread my legs so my other things could CATCH UP
Me: All while this doctor is seated about four inches from my crotch
Me: Refer to sitting all day and underpants were probably soaked with old lady sweat and fecundity effluvia (I have to apologize to you, dear reader, if I am offending you in any way, but I was trying to get my point across, plus I was going for maximum effect)
Sister: The word that comes to mind is…waft
Me: I know those aren’t two words that normally go together but they sure applied in this case
Me: Waft. Yes, waft.
Me: God. And she was pregnant and probably would have preferred to smell my feet again than do another upper thigh check
Me: *takes swiftest glance ever. “Yep, all good.”
Me: That is all. But I’m laughing telling you.
Sister: Probably needed a quick foot sniff to replace the lingering odor
Sister: What did her face do?
Me: Remained perfectly professional
Me: But probably wanted to do this
Me: I had to tell someone and this surely will be my blog tomorrow.
Me: I did manage to gather much of the paper up in my underwear-wearing crack, though. Good catch there.
Me: I never felt so old and stinky in my life
Sister: Nothing like the good old butt print on the paper.
Me: I never even thought about my underwear or wiping down, changing my undies, just about putting Vicks on my feet in the morning because she checks in between each toe (Please remember that I’m just trying to provide the facts, and I did in fact say this was an actual transcript, so I’m leaving in the not so savory part.)
(The rest of the conversation, via screen shot)
About the author:
Christine Cacciatore is a multi-published author who lives—and loves—to write. Together with her sister, Jennifer Starkman, she has published the magical novels Baylyn, Bewitched and Cat, Charmed, with the third book Elise, Evermore coming out soon. On her own, she has written Noah Cane’s Candy, a sassy holiday short romance and Knew You’d Come, a spicy paranormal romance novella. Also, Chris ventured into the Kindle Worlds Mary O’Reilly paranormal series and has written Trouble Lake and Grave Injury. They’re the perfect books to curl up with any time of year but especially Halloween…because they’re chock full of ghosts!
Chris is a member of the In Print Professional Writer’s Group in Rockford, IL and the Chicago Writer’s Association. In her spare time, Chris enjoys writing, reading, and coloring in her grandchildren’s coloring books with the good crayons. Chris is married to a devastatingly handsome man she met on eHarmony, has three children and a gigantic black dog who helps her pack lunches in the morning. She also has four of the most beautiful, intelligent grandchildren in the world, (#5 coming in August!) and their antics keep her in stitches.