So I had my dermatologist appointment today. I reckon I had no more than about 70 seconds actual face time with the geezer, but hey ho. I wanted to give him an accurate impression of my progress, so I'd loaded up my before and after pictures (straight from this log) on my phone in preparation. Showing him was like showing every single co-worker pictures of your newborn baby. He pretended to care, but did no great job of masking his disinterest. Not rudely, though, he was just clearly pressed for time. In response to my 'before' picture, he said, "Oh yes, I remember that all right," and grinned cheekily. He definitely wasn't being sarcastic either. Hmm. Anyway, he prescribed me another 6 weeks' worth of pills and told me that I don't need another appointment or more bloodwork because my course will then be complete. I told him that I've occasionally experienced sudden short term dizziness over the last couple of days (by the way, I've been occasionally experiencing sudden short term dizziness over the last couple of days), but he didn't seem at all concerned. He said my cholesterol was slightly elevated (even despite my inadvertent mega fasting), but that it was nothing to worry about and was probably caused by the pill. About the scarring/indentation, he rolled his eyes good naturedly and told me not to think about it until six months after I finish my treatment. Just as I was leaving, he told me I was looking good. I told him he was looking good, too. I'm not sure if this is standard doctor/patient protocol, but it felt good at the time. Only seconds later did I wince at myself.
Opting to pick up my prescription from the pervy pharmacist rather than the incompetent pharmacist this time, I was again complimented on my skin. I'm pretty sure when I thanked him, I looked to the ceiling and very slightly fluttered my stubby European eyelashes, accidentally conveying flirty coyness. Typically, I have to go back later on in the week to get the rest of my prescription that they "didn't have" today. For some reason, I keep pulling facial expressions that leave the recipient of my gaze or any onlookers completely baffled by my intentions. Only yesterday was I crossing the road on the way home and attempting to shoot an "evil" at a car passing in front of me whose driver had lazily run a fresh red light. My attempt was this, but it unfortunately came out looking something like this, prompting the male driver to return a steely, pervy gaze. I'd forgotten to put lip balm on, you see, so my brain picked that split second to manually remoisten. I felt, and still do, like a penis.
Anyway, I walked about 400,000 miles today, so I was glad to get home. I'm going to put some fake eyelashes on and go out for some sushi, even though I don't eat seafood.