So, the other day I go to the dermatologist for a rather mundane, routine matter - puffy eyelids of the not - so - major - anyone - will -really -notice- but- apparent- enough- to -me - to - go -to -the -doctor variety.
First of all, the doctor asks if I'd used any new make-up or nail polish (uhh, yes and definitely yes). Turns out that nail polish is the #1 cause of eyelid puffos in women! (Don't you love that there's a hierarchy of causes?)
Oh, so I'm at a large practice with lots of other docs -- I've really liked the other doctors I've seen there -- but this was the first time I'd seen this particular doctor. And I didn't really like her because:
a.) She didn't really seem to listen to me. I'd been to that same practice for the same issue before, yet she didn't take the time to check my record -- on the laptop sitting open with my chart on it right in front of her -- and see what the deal was. (That seems like the easy way out to me! Just look it up! Chances are it's the same thing! But maybe my inclination to take the path of least resistance is just one compelling reason why I'm not a doctor).
b.) She mentions a topical treatment I'd tried before and then like quickly tried to flip the script, changing the topic, and fucking UPSELLS me on some laser treatment to "reduce the redness in my face" to treat my super mild rosacea. Apparently I'd only need about three or four treatments... at about $450 or so A POP (!!!). Um, lady, I'm used to coming in here and paying a $30 copay. You really think I wanna shell out like $1600 (as if I had $1600 to spend on "mild redness") on fucking lasers? What irked me the most was that after I told her that the redness really didn't bother me that much, she kept on with "well, you know... something to think about."
So, I walk in to get eyelid medicine or some whatever and potentially leave in debt? WTF?
Don't get me wrong -- I'm not fully against laser treatment or anything. Especially if I had a beard or something I couldn't get rid of. (Eep!) But the redness in my face is just MINOR part of me, and not a very big or important part of me either. It's probably like maybe the 14th thing people notice about me? If that? And it's redness I've earned through a combination of factors both within my control -- drinking too much coffee and probably not enough water; Jack Daniels; tacos and other vices -- and a few beyond the stretch of my dominion -- being really really incredibly white. That aside, I'm pretty proud of the fact that my skin is generally clear, through a combination of sheer luck, never going to bed with make-up on (sick!) and maintaining my situation via moisturization. So why would I risk this shit (granted, if I did get some kind of laser treatment done, it would not be at a spa, but still) for an outcome that's not guaranteed, for a "problem" that only really seems to be a problem to my doctor -- who most likely stands to make a fat commission -- but not to me?
I'm not even 30, so I'm in slight disbelief that I've reached an age where people want to zap my face with lasers and pay them for the privilege.
Soon I'll be bring you some happy, healthy skin and beauty products I've recently discovered. Until then, I say fuck a bitch! Point your frikkin' laserbeams at someone else!
Sing it, Fiona...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
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