It's MJagger's 40th birthday. That said, she will not understand what I am about to write. She's still youthful and has young skin. She will not understand what I mean when I say:
My belly button has turned into a frown.
I'm serious. I knew gravity would bring the girls toward the floor, but my belly button? I had no idea.
The problem started when I went for my 'mole-mapping' at the dermatologist. Now, THERE'S a fun time! You stand there in your underwear while the doctor looks at your skin, up close and personal, with a magnifying glass, blemish by blemish, mole by mole. Those of you who know me recognize that this is a lengthy ordeal, as I have lots of freckles, blemishes and moles. It's kind of gross, if you ask me. So, there I am in my 50 year old skin being inspected by a 30 year old dermatologist. I know she's 30 because she told me so. She looked 30 and had perfect skin, which I suppose is good because that is what she does for a living. Dr. Derma and I had lots of time to talk about my tattoos, tattoos in general, tattoo removal, her ex-boyfriend's tattoos....I told you, I have LOTS of things to look at. We talked about if I regret my tattoos (I don't), why I called them tacky (because they are), if I'd ever want any of them removed (not so much) and when did I get "that new tattoo" (she gets a good eye award for noticing my new "I'm-now-50" tattoo). She was VERY thorough, which made me nervous because it was already very hot in the office and I was already sweating and the closer she kept looking, the more I would sweat. The entire time she's looking, she's talking and I'm sweating. (I think the nurse was dissociating. Seen one mole-mapping, you've seen them all.) You know, the wife has had many a mole mapping but her description never included a lifting (and subsequent flopping) of the boobs, a gander down my butt crack or a quick glance at parts of which I don't usually speak. Well, I got lifted, flopped, gandered and glanced. Imagine my surprise when she reached into my thankfully-new-and-fresh bra, grabbed one of the girls, lifted her up and checked for suspicious beings under my tiny town. I was mortified. We won't even talk about when she pulled my underwear from behind and met me cheek to cheek.
For the record, the wife claims her dermatologist has NEVER done anything like that. I'm not sure if I should be happy/got my money's worth or freaked out.
Needless to say, there was one suspicious mole on my upper belly. I'm not sure I'd call it a mole--it was more like a spot--a little black spot; in fact, it was little enough that I have never given it a second thought. I've got all sorts of other growths to look at--this one didn't even register on my mole-mind. I've got red moles, brown moles, big moles, flat moles, hair-producing moles. This thing? It looked like a flat spot, more like a little blob of black ink than anything skin related. So, she points it out and educates me on how this is suspicious and that we should watch it and remove it in a year or if it changes. I pondered this for a second or two and then remembered that the wife had a mole/spot/blemish just like this on her back and she had had it removed. I inquired if I could make an appointment to have it removed; after all, why wait when you can just get the thing removed and off the radar? Dr. Derma looked absolutely delighted. "No need to return--we can do it right now!" Before I knew it, the nurse was wheeling in tools, I was flat on my back and Dr. Derma was injecting me with numbing stuff. She's still yapping, I'm still yapping, and before you can say "little black dot," the little black dot was gone and I was the owner of two new stitches. "We'll send this to the lab. You'll hear from us in a week. I'm pretty sure this is going to come back abnormal but it will be nothing to worry about." Oh, okay. Glad for the warning.
I went home and tried to admire my new stitches and now-one-less-mole-covered belly, but I really couldn't see much from my vantage point. That's when I decided to try and take a photo of it so I could see it better. I figure my fancy camera phone might as well be good for something.....and, I thought it would be absolutely hilarious to post a photo of my stitches on Book de la Face.....
....this is how I learned that my belly button is now frowning. The photos do not lie. There it was. A frown.
Oh. My. God. If you listen to nothing else I have to say, listen to this: DO NOT TAKE A PHOTO OF YOUR 50 YEAR OLD BELLY BUTTON WITH A CAMERA PHONE FOR ANY REASON.
It's not pretty. I thought it was just the angle, so I tried again. That was worse. After 20 or so photos, I gave up. Each was worse than the first.
It doesn't matter that I am relatively average in the belly department. 50 year old belly buttons and surrounding skin areas should not be photographed, especially if you have a 50 year old belly button that has been pierced but no longer sports jewelry. I knew I had two holes in my skin (belly button piercing holes remain quite visible) and I knew I had moles and I knew I had a "inside my belly button scar" from my laproscopy and I knew my skin was becoming a little saggy but I had no idea how frownie-licious I had become. I was struck how the arrangement of the removed mole, belly button piercing and belly button lined up to make a face (albeit with only one eye).
I became terrified: one day I will look down and my belly button will be gone, lost in the land of sagging skin.
A few days later, I tried taking a photo again, as I wanted to post a photo of how the area had turned black and blue (don't ask me--I don't know why--it certainly didn't hurt). You would think that I would have learned the first time, but no. I had to try again.
It got no better. I did eventually keep one of the photos because it made me laugh.
For the right amount of money, I will post the photo.
Suffice it to say I am now left to embrace my frown. I must love my frown of which I can't turn upside down...well, unless I stand on my head....which might help in all sorts of ways, considering how rude gravity is.
Screw you, gravity--I'm taking me and my mole-mapped skin and going to bed. Maybe if I stay prone, gravity won't have such a dramatic grasp on my dermal affair.
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P.S. Yes, I will be removing my own stitches. Was there a doubt? I can't let the doctors have all the fun.
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