Doctor Visit

I slept for 4.38 hours, then drove for 10.12 hours, then worked for 12.72 hours. Please forgive my incoherence.


Today’s Exploit:

I went to the doctor the other day. It was very traumatic.

I got an infection on my hand. My eczema sometimes gets too dried out and cracks and then gets infected. So I made an appointment with my dermatologist for a checkup and to get drugs to make the infection go away.

I arrived at the doctor’s office, and was shown to a room where I waited for 15.82 minutes. It was very boring and sterile. This doctor doesn’t put pictures on the walls.

Then she came in. She asked what my concerns were, so I told her about my infection. She looked at it and said, “it’s a wart.” I didn’t believe her. In my experience warts do not grow to the size of chocolate chips, or get inflamed, or make it hurt to bend your fingers. They don’t have puss in them either.

But the doctor happily got a razor and started hacking at my finger, claiming she was cutting off the callus. By the time she was done my finger was almost gone. And it didn’t feel any better. Then she was going to freeze the rest of it off.

I declined.

I still didn’t believe it was a wart.

And it was still infected. But I was afraid she’d cut the rest of my hand off if I stayed any longer to ask about it. So I ran as fast as I could to my car and roared away.