Plastic Surgery

I apologise for my absence of a few days, but I am feeling a little sorry for myself because on Monday I had plastic surgery!

Well, I went to the plastic surgery department at one of the local hospitals. I had the deeply uncool procedure undertaken of having a verruca lasered out/off my foot. I had tried but failed to bazooka that verruca, then skin specialist lady at the hospital had tried but failed to give it frostbite, three times this failed.

Then I said ‘let’s burn it’.

‘Okay,’ skin specialist lady doctor said, ‘but it hurts; the injection of local anesthetic hurts. It really hurts’. I don’t know how much bedside manner training they give to their doctors here in Thailand, but it’s an interesting approach.

‘I’ve had babies;’ I said ‘it can’t be as bad as that.’

‘It really hurts.’

So I took husband (who isn’t remotely autistic, but who is very funny, clever, sexy, supportive and didn’t faint) because I was scared, even though I knew it couldn’t hurt as much as having babies.

‘OooOOWWwwww, owwWWWWWWWwwWWW.’

‘AaoooooowWWWwoooowwwww. It IS worse than having babies….’

I was worried I might smell cooking flesh (bacon?) but she had a little sucky machine that whooshed all the crackling smells away.

So now, I’ve got a hole the size of the Isle of Wight in my foot.

I am hobbling, so my back hurts where I’m walking funny, and my leg muscles are grumbling about the hunchback like gait I’m inflicting on them.