I love the sun. Sun sun sun. Feel it's happy rays beating on my exposed flesh while I read textbooks for clinic and fantasize about NOT living in an apartment complex where the two most purchased items are Mountain Dew and Diabetic Test Strips. What does that mean for me? It means I go to the dermatologist. I haven't yet in Kentucky, but I DID get the chance to discuss annual check ups with a lovely woman at Rite Aid today who was buying hemorrhoid cream, sun tan lotion and virginia slims. She lives in my complex and we often sunbathe together. Evidently she went for her annual exam today and was eager to share what any normal person would consider concerning news. "Oh I gots one of them basil (yes, I'm assuming she'd spell it like this) cells. It's real odd too, I use tanning oyyyyuuuul (emphasis/dialectal variation mine)." She's getting a "bahopsee" and will get the "passology" results next week. My major concerns...mets to brain, or no brain to mets to.... Needless to say my motivation to strip down and lay out might be wavering a tidge.
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