Physician Problems

I, like every woman who has the good fortune of health insurance, hate preventive care visits to the doctor. The dread annual: I honestly get heebie jeebies just writing about it. PAP stands for Perfectly Agonizing Procedure. Not that I have one coming up immediately. I usually make my appointment for that funfest after the kids are back in school in the fall. But it's looming out there.
I also have a general distrust of the traditionally male-dominated field of medicine. Aren't we all sure that if women led the industry, we would have a tampon/dustbuster that reduces your monthly to a one-hour, mess-free experience? Wouldn't we have diet pills that don't just help you slim, but actually MAKE you thin instantly? Wouldn't birth control be a non-invasive, non-hormonal, non-crazy making, easy to remember gadget/procedure/pill? Wouldn't we NEVER invent Viagra? What crazy man-researcher thought women (even women in their 'golden years') would want men all over them even MORE than before? Wouldn't there be Prozac and Fluoride in the water supply?
But, back to preventive care. Every year, I go to a dermatologist for a "mole inspection." I have a million little moles on my body that need to be checked by a professional. I have had dozens removed--atypical little buggers. And, living all over the country, I have seen a bunch of dermatologists. Most of them, to be honest, are these fresh faced women whose skin lends total credibility to whatever salve/cream/injection they are selling. But, nearly all the dermatologists I've visited have been serious about their task. They check for moles under armpits, between my toes, and even on all my unmentionables. The last dermatologist I visited, though, was a disappointment. Not only did she not do a FULL body inspection, but she tried hawking her wrinkle cream to me. ("Not that I'm making judgement, but you really could get ahead of those furrows on your forehead before they get any deeper." Internal reply: I'll show you a furrow on your forehead, biatch.)
So, I have been questing for a new physician. One was recommended to me yesterday, in fact. But he came with a disclaimer: I heard he's really thorough, but really young and cute.
Great. As if there's any chance I'll lose 20 pounds and get a boob job before I die of melanoma.