When the friendly and strangely Christian seeming doctor recommended I had better have her remove the mole on my back, I thought for a second and agreed. Doctors had been suggesting it for years, mainly because it looked strange and because I had a hard time "keeping an eye on it" due to it's location right between the shoulderblades. The procedure itself was over in just a few minutes. Nothing to write home about, really. But it was afterwards that I found out I needed to dress the wound three times daily for a month....
Meaning Hydrogen Peroxide, Neosporin and Bandaids. Hmmm. I was supposed to leave it alone for at least 24 hours.
How was it possible that evening to mistake the itching on my back for a t-shirt tag problem? Staring at the tag/Bandaid I was holding in my hand after succesfully dealing with the itch, I realized that I was in trouble. There is no place in Chinatown that sells Bandages after 9pm. So I tried to put on a mental bandaid and ignore the matter untill the morning.
When I finally had all materials together, it occurred to me that coordination dealing with thisparticulare area of the body is close to impossible. The closest result to dressing the wound was to attatch the sticky part to the open wound....
Surgery successfull, patient dead? Saved from skincancer, prey to tetanus?
I already see myself in the hospital with a case of gangreen of the back. I'll try again. I am considering asking for assistance. The super? Is that what the super is there for?