Well, that was unexpected...

and now it hurts. But only a tiny bit. I think I was inspired by the previous post and decided stitches were the hip fashion item this season so I just had to get my own set.

Actually, I had a quick trip to my GP yesterday morning because I had a little mole (which I shall call skanky mole from this point on) that had suddenly decided she wanted to change. My GP is a bit of a nutter. He's the sort of man that still wears a bow tie to work and thinks reciting Keat's poetry during a consultation is cool. Anyhoo, he decided that skanky mole was weird and that I needed to see a specialist immediately. This just happened to be one of my busiest days at work as I need to get a few things completed before I go on leave later this week. But alas, he would hear none of that and called a few clinics until he found one I could get into straight away. He is a strange man. While he was on hold he scribbled down 8 medical terms and looked at me and said "I shall write a bit of poetry with these words while I'm on hold. It's what I do"... Oooooookaaaaaay.

To cut a boring story short, I went off to the clinic and the skanky mole was cut from my chest. The nurse in the surgery was great. She was mid thirties, kind of looked like Jenny Morris and had a fantastic sense of humor. She helped me tweet about this during the whole experience and kindly offered to take the above picture for me when my own aim was a little off. She did say that was a first for the operating table. We discussed the details and merits of removing the stitches myself next week. However, because of their location this is a task I will set for Judo.