She cut it.  She drained

She cut it.  She drained it.  She took a culture.  She cleaned it.  She put me on antibiotics.  She doesn’t think this is the same infection, the really bad one I had.  This is some kind of smaller infection, an ingrown hair gone evil. 
“You’ll definitely have a better weekend now,” she said.
She warned me that the needle filled with the numbing agent would hurt and then burn.  It was nothing compared to what I went through a few weeks ago.  Watching someone cut into your skin, seeing them put instruments inside of you that squeeze and tug — but not feel anything?  That’s weird.
The numbing agent has since totally worn off, and I’m now feeling it, but it’s still better than the pain I was going through last night.
Thanks for sending along your kind words.  I’m fine.  It’s just another reminder to take it easy this weekend.  Good thing writing doesn’t require sudden movements.

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