This happened some 6-7 years ago. I lived in Chile then. I had to consult a physician about a mole that was growing on my leg, and it was also indicating inward growth – a kind of plantlike feeling where I felt it had a root.
At the clinic:
Doc– Buenos Dias, señora!
“Buenos Dias, señor!”
Doc– Cual es el problema? (what is the problem?)
“No sé mucho español. ¿Puedo hablar en inglés? (I don’t know much Spanish. Can I speak in English?)
Doc– Si, Si. No problema. I know leetle, leetle Englich.
“That’s a relief. Thank you so much!”
So, I tell him what my concerns are about the mole on my thigh. He asks me some pertinent questions. Nods his head thoughtfully.
Doc– Ok, I will see it first.
Then he gets up and walks away from the his desk towards a curtained area in one corner of the room.
Doc– Come with me here, señora. You will remove your trouser and I am going to touch you here, in this place.
I almost burst out laughing. The immediate thought that ran through my head was…‘what if I were silly enough not to understand what he meant!’ I’d have gathered my handbag and vamoosed out of the room!
“Ok, señor,” I said instead and followed him into the curtained area.
Examination done. He agreed that there was a downward, rootlike growth. Diagnosis would depend on removing the mole surgically and sending it for biopsy. We walked out and sat at his desk. He had to decide on a date for the surgery. That done, I stood up and thanked him from the depths of my heart.
Doc– So señora, how you like my Englich?
“Awesome, señor doctor!” I said genuinely appreciative. “I am so happy to have found a doctor with whom I could communicate in English.”