For years I have been seen by a dermatologist because I have fair skin and a lot of moles and I don’t want skin cancer. I’ve had so many a-typical and pre-cancerous moles either biopsied or removed completely I’ve lost count. So, when I heard about mole mapping which uses Artificial Intelligence to capture and track moles, I was intrigued.

Counting on the naked eye of a doctor (high level of training notwithstanding) can leave room for error. On the flip side, a doctor may be ultra cautious and will biopsy anything that looks remotely suspicious. With mole mapping those two factors can be overcome (did I just write a pitch?).

So, I decided it was time to check out this new fangled contraption and “give it a go” as the Brits say. The machine itself is impressive and evokes sci-fi movies and teleportation. Two large arches, about 8 feet tall, face each other in a small room. Within those two arches are 92 cameras at every possible angle, all aimed towards the middle. Feet placement markers are on the floor and spaced at a width that would make a gynecologist blush (sorry, I don’t have a better descriptor for men).

Going into this, I was mentally prepared for having to be naked and was ready for feeling a bit uncomfortable. Although, after giving birth twice and all that entails, my sense of modesty in a medical setting is all but gone. What I was not prepared for was the paper and string, unisex, banana hammock I was instructed to put on before placing myself between the two arches.

Once in place, awkwardly spread legs, arms held out at shoulder height, and bent at an angle with fingers spread wide (lots of spreading), the technician instructs you to close your eyes as all 92 cameras simultaneously take a picture. The system then generates an avatar of your body which the AI will use to monitor the moles for any changes over the years.

I have no delusions about what my 44 year old body looks like unclothed and while Victoria’s Secret isn’t going to be calling any time soon, I feel comfortable in it. I make a nominal effort to maintain my marginally athletic appearance though sweets always get the best of me. Nominal efforts aside, I still feel confident enough to wear a bikini at the beach though not necessarily of the paper g-string variety. All of this is to drive home the point that when I look in the mirror I’m happy with my body but nothing, and I mean NOTHING, can prepare you for your own naked avatar.

The technician warned me that people were generally disgusted with their avatar. I thought that sounded like a bit of an overreaction. I was wrong. At first I was enthralled at my 3-D likeness but my smile faded as the sheer horror of what I was witnessing settled in. 92 cameras leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and every bump, spot, flab, droop, and dimple is captured in the highest of high-resolutions and rotated 360 degrees on a computer screen. It has been a week and the image is still seared into my brain.

Finally, at the end of the appointment and for some inexplicable reason, you’re given a flash drive with the avatar on it. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it though burning it came to mind. I go back in a year for a follow-up session so, in the meantime, I’m off all sweets and will only be consuming air so that things might not be so scary.

*Since AI was kind of the theme with this I used it to generate the featured image and I thought it was hysterically accurate though not at all accurate for what it was like to do digital mole mapping and so it stayed. Please note, the man’s feet are not nearly spread wide enough.