Whose Got Your Back?

My doctor’s eyebrows nearly went into orbit. I’d asked him to look at a mole on my back. After the reentry he said, “It’s nothing to be overly concerned with, but I think we should get it looked at soon. It might be one of those nasty ones.”
He didn’t know the half of it.

Since its appearance, I’d had nothing but grief. This mole possessed a nonstop bad attitude and evidently, I was the only one who could hear his ranting. I feared eventually someone else would hear him, think it was me, and then feed me a knuckle sandwich.

When it itched, I'd scratch and he’d get royally chafed. “Hey-Hey-HEY! Do I try to rip your scalp off with dirty fingernails? If I was a little bigger, Willard, I'd kick your butt!"

Willard. His much annoying nickname for me.

At night, I'd roll over on my back and he’d go ballistic. "Whoa! Get off of me, you oaf! You trying to smother me? Go back to your village, idiot!”

After tolerating this abuse for years, I finally went to the dermatologist.

Once we were alone in the examination room, he piped up. "You really going to go through with this, huh?"
"Yes, you and I are going separate ways."
"Willard, you dump me now and I'll come back to torment you with Cindy Crawford"
"You don't even know Cindy Crawford."
“She’s got a mole. You got me. That practically makes you cousins, no?”
“You’re insane."
“You’re just afraid, Willard. Afraid I’m going to impress Cindy and you’ll be left standing there, drubbing your lips.”
“Just shut up."
"Oooo! Great come back, Willard! . I’ll tell Cindy you said, ‘Blubbiddy-blubbiddy-blubbiddy.’” His maniacal laughter really got under my skin.

Finally, the doctor entered with his nurse. As if that was his cue, Mr. Nasty said, "Hey, get this doughy lump out from under me!"
"They can't hear you."
"Who can't hear whom?" asked the nurse, smiling at me.
"No, no. I was talking to my mole."
The corners of her smile turned frownward. Trying to comprehend what I just said, she dead-panned, "Talking . . . . to your . . . . mole? Mmm hmm."
He quickly seized the opportunity. "Went for a doctor's visit and an Imbeciles Anonymous convention broke out. Quick! Lock the doors! Don’t let this one escape! He might fetch a couple of bucks on eBay. Oh wait! What was I thinking? Ebay is for stuff people actually want!” Again with the laughter.
"Just shut up, okay?"
"Excuse Me?" The nurse shot back.
"No, no! Not you! The mole."
Tilting her head she inquired, "Soooo . . . the mole talks to you, too?"
"Yes. I mean, no! I mean . . . look, it's a long story."
"Better get to the point, Willard. They’re calling for the big butterfly net!"
"Cute."
Her eyes squinted threateningly. "Ex-Cuse ME!"
"No, not you! . . . Wait! I'm not saying you're not cute or ugly!"
This set him to howling. "Which is it, Willard? Is she not cute or is she ugly? Better watch yourself! Looks like you’re getting fresh with a woman who’s got a razor in her hand. I got twenty says you’re gonna make the cut!"

If a mole could’ve doubled over, he would have been.

"The mole again?" She asked dubiously.
"Yes."
"And it's . . . 'cute'?"
"I was being sarcastic."
The nurse tried another approach. "Did your referring doctor talk to the mole?"
"No. Why?"
"Well, this is a dermatology office not a psychiat-"
"I'm not crazy."
Simultaneously, the nurse and the mole said, "And yet you say you’re talking to a mole.”

If he could cry from laughing, the band on my underwear would’ve gotten soaked.

Hanging my head I said, "Look, can we just get this over with?"
"Yeah, I need to cut my losses. And sister, this is one big time loser."

As the nurse held the mole up in front of her, about to drop him in a biopsy bag, he joked, "Hey, Willard! Keep in touch!"
Looking at him I said, "Yeah, I'd like to touch you."

I remember only three things after that. The nurse looking both disgusted and angry. Mr. Nasty, belly laughing. Then, a sudden darkness, following close behind the sharp pain to the side of my head.

The moral here is, life’s too short to let a nasty mole be an irritating blemish.


© 2006 Michael Wicinski

Seriously friends, have any moles checked out regularly by your doctor. My “Mr. Nasty” turned out to be nothing. However, one I didn’t even know about caused the dermatologist some concerns and I had to go back in and give another slice. Thankfully, nothing bad was found.