Unexpected Head Operation

So, I had a sebaceous cyst removed from my head yesterday morning. It's a weird growth things that sits under the skin, totally harmless but I promised the wife I'd get it done before she gets back from her extended NZ break.

A big fan of the eCard system in Austria, which although at times can be quite beauraucratic, is usually very efficient. However, I wasn't expecting quite the level of efficiency that I received at the doctor's surgery in Hof.

One irritating factor about visiting the doctor in Austria is that it's difficult to get an actual appointment, you just have to turn up and wait. Even though the official opening time for the surgery is 8am, the waiting room is open at 7am. To beat the hordes of pensioners who turn up for checkups seemingly every week, you really have to get there as early as possible.

Anyway, I was third in line and got to see the doc just after eight and asked what could be done about the cyst. He tried making an appointment with the Landeskrankenhaus (Salzburg's main hospital) who told him the earliest appointment would be in May. A very jovial and friendly chap, he says to me, "shall just we do it here and now instead?"

I said, "Erm. I guess..."

Within ten minutes I had a needle stuck in my head and he gave me some local anesthetic. Very painful and although I've never in the past been bothered about being jabbed, I'm not ashamed to admit I totally blacked out.

Woke up on the doctor's bed (five seconds later, the doc told me) with the weirdest feeling ever. I had no idea where I was or what was going on and it felt like I was paralysed or something. A few moments later I was fine and since he hadn't taken the damn thing out yet, he carried on with the mini-op. Out it popped and I heard the clang as he dropped it on the surgical table - it was about the size of a kidney bean.

He sewed me back up and then asked, "You're not working today are you?"

"Well, yes."

He told me I probably shouldn't since he'd made a fairly big cut and there had been a bit of blood.

He wrote me a note, charged me EUR5.10, sent me off with a few stitches in my head to be removed next week and a bandage on which made me look like some kind of mummy left over from carnival season. All before 9.30am.

So there you have it. Not what I had planned for a Wednesday morning but if you live somewhere renowned for ruthless efficiency, you should expect, err, ruthlessness.