Oh man...I had this same affliction last year end! Some insect bit me on the underside of my elbow, and it started this swelling with pus, which eventually became a reddish, inflamed tracking of the bacteria up my upper arm (cause apparently the bacteria wants to screw up your heart or something and slowly tracks upwards).

And I visited this clinic near my house, to be diagnosed by this weird, eccentric doctor. The moment I sat down, this buffoon brandished a scalpel, and without warning stabbed it into the swelling wound. And the world came to a blur. I thought it was over. I was definitely burning in some purgatory in hell. But then my vision cleared. And it was all over.

So i thought. "Now this is the part that's gonna hurt", mutters this lunatic with an air of devilish delight. Out pops a sinister looking instrument with a loop at the end. And then under no conditions of anesthesia, he pokes it into the wound and starts this vigorous mining operation, at the expense of a horror-stricken observer, who happens to own these mines...

Now with my sanity plundered from the excavation work, Dr. Frankenstein rubs his hands in glee as he suggests an injection of a concoction of various antibiotics. I shut my eyes in anticipation of the drama that was about to unfold. Alas...a stab through my left butt cheek. "The antibiotic is slightly acidic, so don't be surprised if it aches a little." he gritted through his menacing teeth. I stood up to collapse back into the chair in deep anguish. There went my left butt cheek. A feeling equivalent to rowing a 100km on C1.

As if that wasn't enough. He requested the ultimatum. He was gonna burn my butt with a 150 dollars fee. "Come again next week for review." he grins sardonically. I feared for the worse. The review at the clinic was as catastrophic as the first visit.

"Nonono...this wouldn't do..." he sighs as he stares down at the inflammation. "Another jab outta own your ass."(I invented this line duh) "Could I have it on the right side? The left side's still kinda aching." I muttered. That must have been the greatest folly of my life. Now instead of limping on one side, I decided to make myself the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Two butt cheeks down. What more to go?

A familiar toasting of the ass, ended the treatment off with an $80 bill. "You have to trust me...come back for another review. If you were at the hospital, the costs would have been in the thousands!" he explains. Yea except that I would be asleep, and unaware of all people cutting me up till I recover.

It wasn't long before I experienced another jab on the left side (you know where) yet again. The madman determined to get a second go on the right, ends off with: "Another review and a completion of your medication should bring you back." Oh sure, since the first day I stepped into the clinic, I've been plunging deeper and deeper into a dark abyss. I was not about to fall into this never-ending well of madness.

After a long discussion, my family came to a consensus. It was a hard decision, but with economic cost into play, it was the rational choice. I decided.....to boycott the clinic! And up to today, "The Legend of the Witch-Doctor" remains a urban myth, only to be passed down through to the believers and non-believers alike...