Ow.

Warning--major overshare ahead. Don't say I didn't give you adequate time to turn around and avoid this post!

I went to my primary physician on Tuesday with a series of things to talk about (anti-depressants, my weight loss, etc.). I also had her look at a couple of moles. She's not a skin/mole expert, so she referred me to Dermatology.

My appointment was today (first time I've ever had my pick of parking spots at the Kaiser facility!). I had two moles in particular that I was concerned about. One on my back, which I can never see for myself but know is there, and one on my right areola. See? I told you this was an overshare.

Anyway, it developed about a year ago, and steadily grew until it was very like a second, miniature nipple. Very odd and creepy.

So today I sat on the exam table, wearing a paper vest and getting cold in the air-conditioned room, waiting. Finally, the doctor came in. She was very professional and had an excellent bedside manner. She looked at my breast-mole first, and immediately pronounced it "benign."

"It's not a problem at all. I can remove it if you like, but there's no pressing need to."

I opted for removal because the damn thing gave me the heebie jeebies.

So after examining my back, arms, scalp (nothing of concern) and other parts above the waist, she called for her technician. The tech came in and set up the mole-removal hardware, then clicked a few digital shots of my right breast.

Talk about weird. I quipped, "So, Meg, what did you do this weekend?" They both laughed.

Finally it was time to lay back and let the doctor remove the crazy-icky mole. She gave me a shot to numb the area, then literally scraped it off. I didn't watch, but rather clutched the sides of the table with a death grip and curled my toes in my shoes.

She put the mutant piece of areola in a lab tube and it will be checked out, though she is positive it is benign and harmless. No, I didn't ask if I could keep it as a souvenir.

Then she put some Vaseline and a tiny round bandaid on the site of my wound, and sent me on my way to the pharmacy, where I would pick up a couple of acne topicals (the last couple months have found me breaking out like a teenager--horrifying!). I walked the quiet halls of the Kaiser building muttering to myself.

"I have a Band-Aid on my boob. I'm feeling a little fragile, thankyouverymuch."

After my appointment, I met my friend Carol for dinner at Marie Calendar's. We watched Junior finish third in the Nationwide race, and then I came home and removed the Band-Aid to assess the damage.

The local has officially worn off and my poor little areola has a small but painful bruise and a tiny little dark hole where the big, mushy, weird mole used to reside.

And everything kind of smarts. Hence the title of this post.

The good news is, my moles (I have quite a few tiny moles--both flat and raised--on my body) are the normal, benign variety, and I have a couple of prescription blemish treatments. As soon as my poor little bosom stops smarting, I'll be good to go.