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07 January 2009 @ 12:43 am
I'm still getting accustomed to this new dermatology/phototherapy office. I left a wee sma' practice (one doctor, two nurses, three receptionists) for this much larger practice (seven (give or take)) dermatologists, one ridiculously beautiful PA, and what seems like a dozen receptionist/desk staff. It's overwhelming. At the old office, you had scheduled slots for treatment. At the new place, you show up, try to catch the eye of one of the veryvery busy desk workers and say, "I'm here for the light booth." They check to see that the room is available, wave you in, and let whatever qualified individual (ie, the ridiculously beautiful PA or one of the seven (give or take) dermatologists) know that they have someone needing treatment.

My first session, I was seen by the ridiculously beautiful PA, Magda. Seriously. She's the kind of gorgeous I wish I was. Even a smidgeon. Second session was after a general consult with the doctor who will be my go-to dermatologist, Dr. Meiri. Who is also lovely. Honestly. I feel like I skipped by a 'you must be this attractive to receive treatment...' test. Don't tell anyone. Seriously. I'll cut you.

Okay, I totally won't, but just saying that made me feel badass for about two minutes, and y'know? It helped.

So. I went in today and, for the first time, had a doctor I'd not yet met. As I stood there in my paper robe and socks, there was a knock on the door. "Yes!" I said, 'cause I still haven't figured out what the proper entry code is. Neither "Woo! I'm not naked!" nor "Dear God, give a girl a minute!" seem quite the thing. I expect I'll work it out in time. Today, though, I was treated the flung-door entrance of a grey haired man a wee bit shorter than myself. "Hiiiiiiiiii!" he said, dragging the vowel far past it's comfort level. "I'm Dr. Weiiiiiiitzner." He extended his hand, and I, clad only in white cotton socks and a blue paper robe, extended my own. We shook hands rather solemnly. Then he spoke again. "You're going to get a science lesson, whether you want it or not!"

I tried to say that I was all about the details, that any bit of geekiness was good, but he was already on the go. I learned the difference between broadband and narrowband UV spectrum: there were numbers, which he assured me I would not need to commit to memory, and a lame AM radio metaphor and a brief history of UV treatment for psoriasis patients. History/Science geek Kelly was all over that. Pop Culture Kelly loved it even more: this guy was a character from a Christopher Guest movie.

I just can't wait until I get my skin back under control. Right now, it's as bad as it was when I was dealing with Dad's decline and passing. My (official) Dermatologist suggested I look into Enbrel, but honestly? I'm not so sure. Yes, there are impressive results. But there's also discomfort/pain at the injection site, significant weight gain, an a laundry list of other symptoms. AND you have to stay on it for a long time. Like, you can go off of it for a few months when you're clear, but you have to go back when the plaques come back. And they will.

For the time being, I'll stick with UV treatments and hope against hope for a miracle cure.
(no subject) - awomanthatsblue on January 7th, 2009 03:41 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Zoë Tzoethor on January 7th, 2009 08:25 pm (UTC)
I always just yell "Yes" when they knock - it's seemed to work so far. :)