The Other Story Is Better

by Steve Mitchell

Eh, so, I’ve currently got some stitches on my head.

That sounds dramatic, huh?

What happened?  Why do you have stitches in your head?  Are you okay?  Be honest; was there booze involved?

Well, fret not.  I’m fine and no trauma or booze was involved (although I did once, in my younger days, require a few stitches after an ill-advised combination of charitable blood donation and mercenary booze consumption.)

No.  It’s mundane.  I had a pilar cyst on my scalp, right near the part.

I don’t even like the word cyst.


Most folks never even knew I had it.  My hair covered it and I’m taller than average so the top of my head isn’t available for easy inspection.

But it drove me nuts and it had slowly grown from barely perceptible to a little bit larger than a pea.  I can’t think of what round things are a little bit larger than peas.  Corn?  Peanuts?

Anyhow, I went to a dermatologist who looked at it decided it was too large for him to remove without leaving a nasty scar so he referred me to their plastic surgeon.

I expected the plastic surgeon would make a tiny incision but the cut must be 3/4 of an inch or more.  I can’t even tell how many stitches there are.

So, now I have to do a little combover where the minor bald spot is and I have to put antibiotic ointment on the stitches twice a day.  They’re scheduled to be removed next week.  I’m eager to be done with the experience.

*Knock on wood* the incision seems to be healing nicely.  Each day there’s less pain and discomfort.

I’m sure I’ll have a scar.

I still have a scar from the other head stitches.

But, that’s a story for another day.