The Butcher Boy

Today I had to have another day off work (what a trauma!)
For a few years I have been cursed with a sebaceous cyst on my back. I had it there once before and had it removed, but this feisty little bugger decided to rear its ugly head and torment me once again. I arranged for an appointment with my doctor to have it exorcised but as I had the morning free, I thought I'd make the most of my time and get a blood test done too. My doctor likes to keep track of my blood as I have ridiculously high cholesterol levels (can I sue Twix?) and he likes to keep well and truly on top of it. He said "Should we check for HIV too?" and I laughed. One needs to be having sex first... so I'm fairly safe there - unless you seriously can catch it from a toilet seat.

So I went to the pathology lab and awaited amongst a bunch of freaks until it was my turn. I don't think I am being unfair calling them freaks. One lady had not been able to dress herself properly with one arm missing the sleeve completely and another man kept doing an impression of a horse.
I live in a very odd area.

So, I had my blood sucked out of my arm and I am sure I saw a couple of seedy vampires lurking in the alleyway as I left. Neither of them looked like Eric from True Blood so I continued on my way home.

Now, the next image is of my cyst. It doesn't look too huge in the photo, but believe me, it is larger than one would like and is (obviously) slightly evil.



Now, I have had that nasty little blighter for going on for a decade.

As I have mentioned previously, I have a major crush on my doctor.
Well, it was embarrassing when I think about it how I got ready to head out. I showered, shaved, put aftershave on (thanks Tina!) and made sure my hair was reasonably smart. It was as if I was going on a date! (Chance would be a fine thing)
I felt ridiculous after the only intimacy was his finger penetrating my wound.

I arrived for my appointment and as I sat in the waiting room reading the same damn issue of GQ as I always read when I am there (nice interview with Jeremy Piven), I had this sudden urge to bolt. Maybe it was the memory of the previous exorcism 13+ years ago... maybe it was the fear of pain... but I pulled myself together and before I knew it, I was lying face down on a table with my shirt off.

I cleared the magazines off the table first and the other patients were a tad bemused, of course, who wouldn't be? When my doctor came out and asked me to enter the surgery, I thought it best to follow his advice.

Lying face down, once more, before my (beautiful) doctor, I began to tremble. When I am nervous, I do three things: Tremble, sweat and talk.
I talked and talked about anything my mind could think of. I am sure he was absolutely delighted to know the plot of Julie & Julia.

He told me to relax ("Have you met me?") and he began the procedure, butchering my back open and scraping out the vile monstrosity from within. First the anaesthetic needles went in all around the cyst, then he sliced it open and I felt goo and blood trickle down over my shoulder towards the bed. He spent a good few minutes digging out the dead crap.

It is at this point I would like those who have seen it to recall the second season Torchwood episode entitled Fragments in which a tumor turns out to be an alien which emits a noxious gas and kills everyone.
This scene rang bells with me as the stench was intense. I swear to God, it smelt like my cat's arse after she's eaten dairy.
This pungent odour permeated the room and engulfed everything around. I even saw a plant wilt - and it was plastic! Gross!!

The next image I took with my phone. It's the beast dissected. Not for the squeamish.



Thankfully, it has now been disposed of safely and has been shot into space to avoid further contamination.
My fantasy situation I had played out again and again in my head did not happen. The fantasy went like this...

Hot Doctor: "Are you all right to get home, Ben?"

Me: "Oh, I'll be fine. I'll walk it."

Hot Doctor: "Heavens to Betsy! We can't have that. Let me drive you home."

Hot Doctor and Ben head back to Ben's flat in Hot Doctor's car. They arrive.

Hot Doctor: "Do you need help getting upstairs?"

Me: "Hmm, maybe. And I might need help getting into my PJs..."

Oh, I shan't go on, you can guess the rest...

Sadly, I just had to walk home and pick up some painkillers on the way.

So, now I am back home, the anaesthetic hasn't worn off yet, but when it does, I'll knock back a few pills. I have had a nice mug of tea and a Twix as a special treat for being such a good, albeit talkative, patient.

This is what my back looks like now...



Thank you Hot Butcher - er, I mean 'Doctor'.