Outpatient
I was in a bad mood when I arrived at the hospital for my three monthly check up. I'd had a row this morning and had to leave it unresolved. The friendly nurse invited me in to the cubicle and asked me to undress.
"Are you all alone today?" she said - as if to rub it in.
"I certainly am". I said.
The registrar looked my body up and down. He fixed on a large mole on my stomach. It had a slight dark patch in it.
"This will be a little cold" he said, as he rubbed gel on the end of his magnifier.
After a while he said he was sure it was OK but he'd like the consultant to have a look just to be sure. He would also send a photographer to record it.
As I waited for the consultant the friendly nurse got me to fill in a form giving permission for the the photo be be used in various places. (My hopes for a Hello Magazine deal were in vain).
"Do they sometimes change and stay OK?" I pleaded.
"They do - she said - but if Dr D has any suspicions he tends to just remove them.
"Oh!", I said, the blood draining form my body. I started to go through all the ramifications of being cut open again - probably here and now. Cancelling arrangements, sick leave, pain, discomfort...
Dr D came in and shook my hand. He asked how I was.
"Grumpy" I said - I'm worried you're going to cut me again.
He smiled and got out his magnifier.
"I think its OK", he said. "We'll take some pictures and have a look again in three months."