After much thought, none of it positive, I decided to change dermatologists--but to whom? That's when my unit's ad jumped out of the monthly paper, hit me like a slew of magic bullets. On the front page I saw a large ad for a new dr. right across Copperfield Ave. maybe three blocks from my apt. I called the given number. First thing I asked was, 'Is Wherewithall really the doc's name?' It was ! Whoever I spoke to set an appointment for me for the very next day, 1:15 p.m. The secretary? told me to look for 8060 which will make it easier for me to find Dr. Wherewithall. That was the beginning of insanity! Riding up and down the one way streets, no left turns, I finally found in big letters on the end building 8060.
A full block away was a car space that didn't have anyone's name on it so I parked and walked, opened the door to 8060 and was tossed for a loop. This was not the dermatologist's office at all. Some of you, like my family, Jerry, Steve,would recognize --ZUBERA'S! A tiny office packed with colored folders. Colors meant a lot to Zubera, to me they only meant I was not in a doctor's office. The girl at the wee desk was on the phone, ignoring me. She seemed to wake up from a dream as she asked if she could help me. 'Hope so, Kid. Where is Dr. Wherewithall's office? She's supposed to be at 8060.
'I'll take you to the elevator,'the twerp said, opened the door and lead me right, left, another left, a right and I had to ask, 'Isn't that an elevator over there?' 'Yes.' I walked the distance and got on the elevator, got off where twerp told me,third floor and there I found 2 young ladies at a table in a tiny room. I was given papers to fill out, 4 sheets in small print, listing every possible skin disease still on this earth, to check the ones I've had--NONE. The questions had questions, names of former drs., birthday, SS (that I exed out) . Finally I was zigzagged again and left in a room with no windows, no magazines or table and one closed door. It was almost scary. Then I saw a sign over the door. THIS IS THE QUIET ROOM. It did not need that sign. I stayed about 7 min., opened the door and clapped my hands until someone came to find out who was making all that noise. I let her know I was angry I and I didn't want to be in a Quiet room.
Again zigzag, zigzag, totally discombobulated until I was put in a room with one chair, one table, one magazine and a shelf and one long cotton swab stick under the shelf. Dr. Wherewithall came in and I pointed out the stick, told her I wouldn't pick it up because I didn't know where it might have been. She was brave and trashed it. There was no sink which accounted for her not washing her hands.
OK. Dr. W. smiled. I think graduation glitter was still in her hair. Whoever brought me to that room had wanted me to have a full body exam and I refused, giving my reasons. All I wanted was for the dr. to look at something I scratched on my back that bled. At that point I told her my former dr. was King of the Zappers and I wanted no zaps unless absolutely necessary. She is NOT a zapper. I showed her other things that my reg. dermatologist never explained to me. She looked at the small rarieties and she and only told me there was nothing to worry about.
We smiled to each other and I asked for a map so I could find my way back to my car. Explanations of changes that were going to be made shortly in construction poured from her mouth. It seemed to be a good internal outlet for her- but didn't help me at all. Instead she called for an invisible guide dog who wore a short skirt and had legs up to her neck. Gorgeous young woman! She stayed with me until I reached the elevator where right outside I saw my car awaited.... and my story is done! VAL
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