Well actually, two large cysts were removed. The butcher who took them off, aka "doctor," was a rough sort. He slapped me face down on the table, stuck me with needles to deaden the pain and started cutting. The more he pulled at the cysts, the tighter my toes curled. since I couldn't see what he was doing, I never did learn what those horrid ripping sounds were. Then there was the bleeding - head wounds bleed like cut pigs. As the doctor dug and scooped at my head, I felt a trickle of liquid down the side of my head - I thought it was irrigation saline. It wasnt - - it was blood... mine. I got up from the table, still shaky, to see I had been lying in a platter sized pool of my own blood. And did I mention that I was sweating like a wrestler through it all? What a mess! As the nurse was toweling me down and wiping up the goop, she said, "He's not real gentle - but he's thorough!" The whole thing has left me with a new outlook on caponizing. Never again will I be squeamish about it.