So this past Wednesday I had a sebaceous cyst removed from the middle of my back. I’d had this thing, this squatter fetus which I took to calling Fester, for eight years. I was told it would be a quick procedure taking maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. It actually took about an hour. What the doctor cut out was just a bit smaller than a golf ball. He said the cyst was far bigger than he initially thought it would be, and the procedure more complicated. What was visible on the surface of my back was only the tip of the iceberg.
The incision was cauterized and stitched and the doctor said I have a hell of a cavity left where Fester once lived. When I got off the table, the nurse showed me Fester in all his glory and I was shocked at the size. I couldn’t believe that such a giant ball of infection had been living inside me for so long. The doctor said he had to do a lot of cutting as Fester was very fibrous and had many roots.
I took a picture of Fester, but I won’t post it as it’s graphic and ugly and I see no need to induce you guys to vomit. I was giddy with amazement, though.
“Can I keep it?” I asked hopefully.
“No, no,” the doctor replied. “We’ll need to have it looked at by the lab to make sure it’s not cancerous or has anything concerning.” My face fell a little at this bad news. I looked longingly at Fester in the clear plastic specimen container.
“Do you want to show your wife?” the nurse asked cheerily.
“Oh yes, I do. I really do.” This was turning out to be a great day.
I put my shirt on and accompanied the nurse to the waiting room. She carried out the bottle with Fester inside, and in front of the whole room I announced, “Sweetie, it’s a boy!”
“Oh God,” said my wife, Maureen, as she put down her magazine.
“Do you want to look?” the nurse asked her.
And because she has a bit of normal in her, Maureen said that no, it was too gross, but then the woman I love cropped up and she said, “Okay, okay, I’ll look at it.” She was amazed and horrified.
I wanted to take a picture of Maureen with Fester but that’s where both my wife and the nurse drew the line.
“That would probably be too much,” said the nurse as she carried Fester away.
The hole in my back is healing nicely, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a tiny hole in my heart. Fester was ugly, but he was mine.