A picture would be crossing the line

A few weeks ago, I noticed a small bump on the back of my left thigh. No big deal. When it became the size of a pea, I thought, hmm, this isn't good.

Then it kept growing. After a good soaking, I asked Mrs. Berkeley to view the spectacle.. Said she, "Buddy Boy, I want no part of that. If you were just riding around Hull, I'd think about it. But you need help. You need a doctor."

Coach Josh informs me that when a boil approaches the size of currency, be it a quarter, a half dollar, or, in my condition, a silver dollar, it is time to seek the assistance of a professional.

After pleading with a nurse, Dr. Tso of the Massachusetts General Hospital agreed to see me. Dr. Tso is an excellent doctor, who can diagnose you, fix you, and send you on your way in record time. He also cares about you as a human being, which is a rare trait these days.

I had a typed up list of ailments to review, and Dr. Tso went about his business in a professional manner. Then he said, "Let's have a look at that boil."

I pulled up the blue paper johnnie, and Dr. Tso exclaimed, "Yikes!"

Any time a doctor says, "Yikes," it is usually cause for reflection.

The shock and awe didn't last long. The good doctor regained his form, and said, "I'm going to have to poke a hole in that."

From the assumed position, I lay prostate as Dr. Tso poked one hole, then another, in the angry sore. He prescribed some medicine, so with any luck, I'll be ready for the Tour in 14 days. The boil does not come between me and the seat of the bicycle, at least I can ride. During the Tour, some riders get sores that are so gruesome, they have to drill a hole in the saddle to make room for it.

I thought about posting a picture of the angry one, but thought that if I perished during the Tour, some enterprising reporter would run that particular shot over my obit. Mrs. Berkeley would not be amused.