Dermatologist

It is a widely known fact that I am a true ginger. I have all the ginger qualities, red hair, white skin, freckles, no soul, the works. When it comes to my red hair I am obsessed, I would never want to be blonde or brunette (no offense to any of them). I think my freckles are adorable and I really do have a soul, just like the ginger in the youtube video. My only issue is with my pasty white skin. I pretty much glow in the dark. I have done everything humanly possible to change this, except go reverse Michael Jackson. Unfortunately for me, that leads to skin damage.

It was a normal night at work when BAM I was informed that my life was in danger.

Boss: What is that on your arm

Me (snapping out of whatever daydream I was in): Uh I dunno a mole.

Boss: That looks like cancer. 

Me: Oh it's fine I have had it for a long time.

Boss: A 15 year old girl died in *Some town in Colorado* from melanoma. 

Me: Well shit..... *long pause*...... are you saying I'm going to die. 

Boss: No but go to the dermatologist. 

Me: Okay I'll call my mom. (No real intention of calling my mom)

Boss: Siobhan, write it down so you don't forget I'm serious about this. 

Me: Fine (I'll really call my mom)

Boss: Let me see your legs ( looks at every freckle and mole) Okay seriously go get a full body look over. 

Me: Okay jeeze stop scaring me.

I was now convinced I was going to die so the next morning I called my mom.

Mom: Hello?

Me: I'm going to die.

Mom: Okay? Why?

Me: I have skin cancer, can I go to the dermatologist?

Mom: You have health insurance honey, use it. 

I then scheduled a dermatologist appointment for as soon as I possibly could which was a week later. My entire week had a black shadow of looming death above it. When I got to the dermatologist I realized I was not going to immediately keel over and die, I simply needed a mole removed and I needed to keep an eye on the other ones to make sure they didn't morph into some sort of monster mole that was going to eat me with it's cancer. 

I made an appointment to go get the thing sliced off my arm. The next tuesday rolls around and I am up at 7 am to go get chopped up.... okay maybe chopped up is an exaggeration but still. So I arrived at Wardenburg to wait here

Then they called my name, which of course they said wrong Seeobahaaaannnnn Saaaaiiiiooooobhhhaaaaannnnnn. To which of course I dutifully get up and go correct them. Then through the maze that they call hospitals. I'm not really sure why hospitals/medical clinics always end up looking like the maze at the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, are they trying to keep you in? It's extremely concerning. Anyway, I get there and do some more waiting here

I also don't understand the amount of waiting they make you do at the doctors. Like seriously if I wanted to waste hours of my life I would just go get drunk and hoola hoop. Normally, if my mom would have been there we would have been going through the drawers like these

or these

but I was here alone this time so I wasn't feeling ballsy. See when my mom and I go, we look through all the medical shit to see what they are hiding, if there are any human heads or creepy shit like that, we will know were about to get murdered. Anyway off came my gross mole and skin cancer and in went three stitches. I even kind of got to watch which was really cool. So now I go in two weeks from now to find out what it was anddddd to get my stitches out. Oh but this is what my arm looks like now

I also told everyone I had stitches and didn't tell anyone why so now in peoples imagination I'm a bad ass fighter.... at least thats what I hope they are thinking.