Tag, you're it!

As part of the Sporty by Forty Initiative, I went to the doctor today to see about the removal of some skin tags. These are gross little mole-like growths generally associated with fat folk. As I am one of those people, I have a veritable horde of the little bastards.

So, my Nurse Practitioner, who is AWESOME, by the way, sets me up to cut it off. So, she and the nurse (or was she a resident? I don’t know. Blonde girl in scrubs. She could have been a goddamn ninja for all I know, really.) get me on the table and my NP says “OK, first we’re gonna freeze it, then I’ll cut it with very sharp scissors. Next up we cauterize it with silver nitrate. Most people find that the worst bit.”

The whole thing went pretty smoothly aside from the bleeding. The worst bit was the damn anesthesia. So cold it burned! I didn’t really feel the snipping and the silver nitrate was remarkably like getting a tattoo. More annoying than anything else.

So after lunch I went to hug my friend good bye and my other friend says “Uh, you need to change your bandage!” I reach up and sure enough, Vampire Attack Victim! So I had to rush into work and change my band aid. There’s a big black spot on my neck where it was cauterized. It’s disgusting looking, really. Ugh. That and now it hurts. Makes sense, really. Ah well. I’m just glad it wasn’t on my face.

Anyway, I have to go to a dermatologist to get rid of the rest because she can’t do them. What can you do, right?