It’s A Gay Mole-Hunt

(I have gone to the doctor about a mole I am suspicious of. I have spent close to five minutes with the doctor going over what seems different about it and showing her pictures of it before I noticed the change. I keep pictures of my moles because my mum was diagnosed earlier in life, and it has made me rather paranoid about them. The doctor has done nothing but listen, smile, and say, “Hmm…” every now and again. She stops me mid-sentence.)

Doctor: “Are you gay?”

Me: “What?”

Doctor: “Are you gay?”

Me: “Yes. Does that have something to do with my mole?”

Doctor: “No, it’s just that my family thinks my nephew might be gay, and I’m wondering if you want to help me find out.”

Me: *stunned* “No, I don’t. I want to find out whether my mole changing means I have cancer.”

Doctor: “That’s a shame. We really want to know.”

(She sits there not focusing on anything for a few seconds.)

Me: “My mole?”

Doctor: *sitting upright* “Look, will you help me or not?”

(I didn’t answer and left the room. I made a complaint before leaving and ended up signing with a new doctor. I got a letter from the old doctor apologising for her behaviour, but my mum tells me she still works there and is still trying to find out if her nephew is gay.)

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