It appears that fifty years of driving from schools to jobs to Little League games to Girl Scouts to grocery stores to doctor’s appointments to play dates to graduations and to all points in between, not only produces exhaustion but can also cause an assortment of brown marks to develop on the left side of one’s body.
After discovering something rather alien growing on my face, I finally went to see a dermatologist and he informed me of this fact. He then went on to prove his theory.
While there were discolorations on both sides of my body, for every spot he found on the right side there were five times that many on my left side.
While I had been cruising through life, with my left arm resting on the window of my car, doing my job as a mom, daughter, wife and sister, the sun had been doing its job on my skin.
But the good doctor told me not to worry. He slipped on his miner-like headgear, complete with a special light and cancer detector and started examining my spots. Some of them were pre-cancerous, some were not.
To rid my skin of the dangerous spots, he pulled out his liquid nitrogen tool and started zapping away. He was getting way too much pleasure out of this procedure.
I was getting nervous. How much was all this costing? I mean, with the way medical insurance is these days in the United States, one never knows. Each zap could be costing me a trip to the grocery store. By the time he finished I could owe him my mortgage payment.
Again, he said not to worry. It was a “One-Price-Zaps-All” operation.
So, I let him continue. And while he zapped away, my mind traveled back in time. To all those hours spent basking in the sun, slathered with baby oil.
Sunscreen? Who knew of that concept back in those days? We were young and carefree. Wrinkles, dry skin and sunspots were something that happened to “old” women.
And now here I was on the far side of young with wrinkles, dry skin and sunspots of my very own.
To further prove this reality, as I went to pay, the smooth-faced, blemish-free receptionist lined the counter with numerous anti-aging lotions recommended by the doctor.
And who am I to doubt his educated opinion?
I not only left with dozens of black dots up and down my arms and face (which the doctor assured me would scab over and fall off) but also with a bag of creams promising to return my skin to its youthful condition.
As I climbed back into my car, I immediately placed my left arm on the window and at that moment it dawned on me. No matter how much protection I gave this arm, it was still going to get more sun than my right one.
And I realized the only way to even out my body would be to move to a place where I could drive on the right side of the car.
Hmm…anyone know of a good flat in London?