Black Hole

22nd July 2011 Friday

By 9 am I’m at the surgery - it’s three minutes walk from our house. My leg - where I had the skin cancer removed - has become infected. It hurts more than after the op. The nurse who is lovely, and who isn’t the one who removed my stitches six weeks ago, finds the remains of a suture inside the perfectly round hole, the circumference of a knitting needle. It's in the centre of my scar which had begun to heal up. We both peer inside the hole which is not bleeding but is as black as the pupil of an eye. She says there maybe something else in there but it’s too deep to go digging. She prescribes antibiotic cream and says wash the hole with the shower head and dry it with a hair dryer before applying the cream.

I don’t like this black hole in my leg and the red angry swelling around it. I thought it was getting better but it seems to be getting worse. Not healed yet, then. More gunk to come out.