One of my blood relations and myself have this sadistic liking to going to the doctor. When musing it some weeks ago we both coyly admitted to each other that we enjoy it. The reason behind this sadistic liking is that when one goes to the doctor, they have an adult who is willing to talk to about their problems. Yes! An opportunity to talk about me! No wonder hypochondriacs exist, it's fun to get all that attention.
Well, the other day I concocted up a foolproof plan to see the doctor, (in order to get attention). The plan was that I would have him look at a suspicious mole on my back that seemed to come up with a new disguise every few days. Some days it was red, other days it's brown and on occasion it's more of a white color. "I know" I thought to myself, "I'll see myself to a specialist under the guise that I have a suspicious mole and then I can get some undivided attention!" (ha!)
The doctor examined it, we talked about skin, I told him I like to lay on the beach with a towel over me and he was very impressed. After that he took a look at my suspicious mole and informed me he would do a biopsy. "Sure" whatever that is I thought.
I was under the impression that a biopsy was the removal of a minuscule piece of skin that goes to be tested and then the specialist decides if there is an impending removal in the future. So, he numbed my pack, I felt some pain (but I didn't cry, so don't accuse me of crying), and then he said "okay, you're done."
I went home only to find a large patch of skin removed from my back. Well, I suppose I got what I bargained for. I got undivided attention from a concerned individual but I also inadvertently got a minor sugary.
So, if you find out that you've had a minor sugary by accident, well look on the positive side, you got attention!