About a year ago I noticed a pea sized lump on my shoulder. I saw my GP who had sent me for an ultrasound. It was a sebaceous cyst, a clogged hair follicle filled with oil, lovely. Good news though, since I was concerned about the big C. Anyway since then the little lump has done precisely nothing, neither grown, nor shrunk, not changed in any discernible way at all. Until recently.

About ten days ago the lump became sore, and gradually grew from a tiny, skin coloured lump, into a large, red, shiny bulge, straining to make its way out of my shoulder. Also, it was painful, admittedly I’m a bit of a wuss when it comes to pain but this thing went from ‘a bit sore’ to ‘crying in pain like a big girls blouse’ very quickly. At some point during this process I’d been to see the GP, and started on a course of antibiotics which did precisely nothing, oh apart from making me feel sick and shitty of course.

So after five days of a seven day course of antibiotics, with the lump growing larger and developing features, I decided to return to the GP. Of course this being my life I was off on holiday and had to slot in an emergency appointment on the morning I was due to leave. So instead of packing I was sat reading saga magazine, and trying not to cry in pain in public.

Before I go on I should explain that I’m not only a wuss about pain. I’m also massively phobic of all things medical. Needles being top of the list. Bring on the worlds most no nonsense GP, and my day was just getting better and better. She changed my antibiotics and suggested we use numbing spray on my lump (by now named Bob, by me, because, and?) and stick him with a needle to release some puss. Lovely. I (going a lovely shade of grey at the thought of said needle) decided to ask some questions about the procedure before making a decision whether to jump out of the nice GP’s window and run away, fast.

“So will this procedure improve the healing, speed of recovery?” Ask I. “I can’t really say, I don’t have a crystal ball” says mean GP lady. I mean seriously, how rude, right? “Will the numbing spray make the procedure painless?” I try again, “not likely to be honest, it’ll mostly just make it cold” she replies. Brilliant I think, it will hurt and it might not even be helpful. So I ask if my regular GP can do it for me, since by now I’m not feeling particularly comfortable around the woman. I explain that I’m a little nervous about this kind of thing and she shoots me a look I’d expect to be aimed at a small, rather pathetic, turd.

So I wait in the waiting room while she speaks to my regular GP, who suggests not sticking Bob with a needle (good idea) and trying new antibiotics. Fast forward around ten hours and Bob erupts all on his own anyway.