OUCH!!!

Last weekend I went to Lowe's to pick some things up for Jeff and was checking out when the cashier started getting after me because I was sunburned. She was in her mid sixties and also a redhead. She was covered in freckles and started pointing at different spots and saying, "That's cancer! That's cancer! See this? That's cancer too!!!" Then a couple of days later Jeff says to me, "That bump on your neck is getting bigger - you should really get that checked." Mind you, I didn't tell him about the insane woman at Lowes. Suddenly I was noticing every little freckle. I called the dermatologist and was surprised that I got an appointment for the next day - today. All night long I was imagining having to strip down to my birthday suit so that the doctor could scrutinize every tiny little bump, freckle or mole on my body. (Butterflies have just been hatched in my stomach and are starting to flutter their wings.) With great trepidation I walked into the doctor's office and gave the receptionist my name. Waiting is the worst thing that you can do to someone. I swear, my palms were sweating the minute the nurse called my name. "Amy!" I got up from my chair and slowly followed her to the examination room. EXAMINATION ROOM... (the butterflies just had a double shot of coffee, or something equally crazy) She did the initial question and answer thing and then said, "Are we doing a skin check today?" This was it! Maybe I could worm my way out of having to strip in front of a complete stranger! "Oh, not today." I said. "I'm just worried about a couple of spots that are not covered by ANY of my clothes. He can check me without either of us having to be embarrassed." She said, "Okay, no problem." Whew! I dodged that bullet - yes! Turns out that I have Rosacea on my face - great. (Can you feel the sarcasm?) I also had a cyst on my neck that he wanted to remove. So, now I have 3 blue stitches on my neck and am finding it a little uncomfortable to turn my head to the right. I've been wondering what I'll say to the kids when they ask what happened to me. The doctor said that I should make up some intricate tale about how I was outside watering the flowers last night when a vampire swooped down on me and tried to bite me! I fought him with everything I had! I kicked and screamed and tried to call for help, but I could feel his fangs start to sink into my flesh. Suddenly I remembered that I had slipped a clove of garlic into my pocket after I cooked dinner, just in case something like this should happen. (I never was a boy scout, but I still like to be prepared.) Finally, I vanquished my foe and he flew away screaming at the terrible stench that came from my pocket... Wait a minute! I don't want to smell like garlic. Ooooh, I know! Maybe I could tell them that I got mugged in the Wal-Mart parkinglot and as the tip of the knife touched my neck I elbowed the creep in the stomach and practiced the other kung-fu moves I learned in my Relief Society homemaking class on self defense. Yeah, that sounds more realistic!