I’m standing in my underwear on the 20th floor of a suburban office tower, arms outstretched. Sun streams through the window. Fluorescent light falls from panels in the ceiling. Sharper light beams towards me. My skin, looking paler than ever under all this brightness, is getting a thorough going-over. Every square inch of the epidermis. The soles of my feet. The webbing between my toes. My palms. The contours of my ears. My scalp, armpits, limbs, torso, back, eyelids, and nose. My décolletage and backside. It’s full-body skin-check time, a ritual for many Australians. Andrew Ming, my highly qualified dermatologist, is as affable as ever. I’ve been seeing him for years and he greets me with, “How are you?”
The surroundings are familiar and my visit routine, but I feel a tight-chested, dry-mouthed sense of dread every time. We chat as I undress, but Dr Ming goes quiet as he puts on his special glasses to begin the examination. This is an annual appointment, but
I know his parting words will be, “Come back if you’re worried about anything at all.” Often I do. Because I am. During the check-up, Andrew may reach for his dermatoscopy, a magnifying lens that dermatologists use to take a close look at pigmented lesions upon the skin. A digital camera and a ruler lie within his reach, ready to photograph or measure one of the many marks on my skin to see if it has grown or changed. If it has, it will be biopsied or flagged for future monitoring. Dr. Ming may freeze something off with liquid nitrogen. He will almost certainly annotate my chart, laid out on his desk for easy reference, which shows a constellation of dots and dates speckled across an outline of the human body.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Hitting a nerve
Regulating the vagus nerve with its links to depression, anxiety, arthritis and diabetes - could aid physical and mental wellbeing.
Take me to the river
With a slew of new schedules and excursions to explore, the latest river cruises promise to give you experiences and sights you won’t see on the ocean.
The last act
When family patriarch Tom Edwards passes away, his children must come together to build his coffin in four days, otherwise they will lose their inheritance. Can they put their sibling rivalry aside?
MEET RUSSIA'S BRAVEST WOMEN
When Alexei Navalny died in a brutal Arctic prison, Vladimir Putin thought he had triumphed over his most formidable opponent. Until three courageous women - Alexei's mother, wife and daughter - took up his fight for freedom.
The wines and lines mums
Once only associated with glamorous A-listers, cocaine is now prevalent with the soccer-mum set - as likely to be imbibed at a school fundraiser as a nightclub. The Weekly looks inside this illegal, addictive, rising trend.
Jenny Liddle-Bob.Lucy McDonald.Sasha Green - Why don't you know their names?
Indigenous women are being murdered at frightening rates, their deaths often left uninvestigated and widely unreported. Here The Weekly meets families who are battling grief and desperate for solutions.
Growing happiness
Through drought flood and heartbreak, Jenny Jennr's sunflowers bloom with hope, sunshine and joy
"Thank God we make each other laugh"
A shared sense of humour has seen Aussie comedy couple Harriet Dyer and Patrick Brammall conquer the world. But what does life look like when the cameras go down:
Winter baking with apples and pears
Celebrate the season of Australian apples and pears with these sweet bakes that will keep the midwinter blues away.
Budget dinner winners
Looking for some thrifty inspiration for weeknight dinners? Try our tasty line-up of low-cost recipes that are bound to please everyone at the table.