Isn’t it time for sedation dermatology?
May 15, 2014
Earlier this week I paid a visit to my dermatologist for what I call my semi-annual face burning.
Do you feel my pain?
If you are somewhat chronologically gifted and happen to have fair skin you do.
For the uninitiated among you allow me to explain.
According to my doctor all those years I spent in the sun as a youth are now paying dividends in the form of skin cancers and pre-cancers.
In other words, the harm was done years ago and now is manifesting itself.
The way modern dermatologists address this problem is to zap the patient periodically with liquid nitrogen applied to suspicious spots on the skin.
It’s better than sticking your face in an open flame, but only to a degree.
The liquid nitrogen freezes the spot, which is dermatologist talk for burning off the sucker.
Imagine a nest of yellow jackets attacking your face and appendages, stinging you one at a time until you cry uncle.
Of course you can’t cry uncle until all of the buggers have stung you.
On TV every day I now see advertisements for “sedation dentistry.”
Everybody hates the dentist and dreads a visit to his or her office.
Dermatologists are right there with them.
I know when I go in every six months I have a dozen or so zaps coming.
And I pay for the privilege.
What is it about that that conjures up the word dominatrix?
I asked my dermatologist about that and she just smiled and zapped me a few more times.
So, isn’t it time dermatologists went to sedation mode?
I mean if I am going to come out of the dermatologist’s office looking like a guy who has been dragged face first through a brier patch shouldn’t I at least be unconscious part of the time?
I don’t know if insurance would pay for it, but couldn’t the docs serve dry gin martini’s a handful at a time to their victims?
My wife reminds me that this torture is a lot better than full-blown skin cancer.
I can’t argue with that, and I am proud that medical science has evolved to the point where doctors do not have to strip all the skin off my body with tenterhooks. (I have always wanted to use the word tenterhooks in a blog, by the way.)
That’s little comfort.
Like I said, why don’t dermatologists just knock you out, zap you real good, and tell you when to come back?
Wouldn’t that be more civilized?
I gotta go now.
It’s time to apply some more antibiotic cream to my blisters.