(You might want to look away at this point if you're squeamish).
The first was a cyst in the lower eyelid which turned evil. I'm prone to these; sometimes they go after about 6 - 12 months; others don't and have to be cut out: I think I've had about 4 cut out of both upper and lower lids over the last 20 years. After about 18 months, this one blew out, unfortunately - it prolapsed, so that the layer of eyelid tissue holding the cyst inverted like an inside-out sock and took up residence on my eyeball, blocking vision, etc. Sometimes it crawled out over the lower eyelid like a pink, amoeboid mini-Cthulhu trying to escape the well of my right socket. For a while it was infected and I had a month of low-grade fevers and 24-7 headaches 'til I was able to convince a doc it was disrupting my ability to work, generally making my life miserable, etc.
Took a while, but they eventually removed it.
Not a pleasant experience: local anesthetic injected in a lid and someone waving a razor-sharp scalpel a quarter-inch from your eyeball never is.
I've seen L'Age D'or, innit.
Yesterday, I had an operation on my penis. A preemptive strike on a new, dark-pigmented and rapidly-enlarging lesion on the inside of my foreskin. This time, they didn't hang about. Circumcision was initially advised, but they eventually downscaled and opted for removal of the lesion and 'firewalling' off any immediate tissue in case the fucker was a bad 'un.
The surgeon, making small talk as he stuck a hypo in my dick, asked me what I do for a living. I told him (in between gurning) - writing comics, etc - and he told me a really cool anecdote about a friend of his who is on staff at Pixar. How he had been headhunted by James Cameron because "he did good CGI fur", etc and the set-up at Pixar (I had heard before how they are allowed to decorate their office / pods, etc and he confirmed it: his pal's had a crashed Indiana Jones airplane in the jungle vibe - and have unlimited goof-off time long as they hit their work-goals by Friday pm). All this while he's cutting a hole in my hood. Wonders never cease, etc.
Before I had to strip off and put on a surgical gown for the op, I had been sat in the doc's prep-room reading the latest issue of (wait for it!) Injection by Warren Ellis - one of my favourite comics - more as a pre-operation distraction than anything...
Then I hit the final furlong last three or four pages, wherein one of the characters is presented with Rasputin's Cock (!!), severed and in a pickle jar.
Afterwards, I sat in a pair of NHS 'Special Pants' nursing a cup of black tea and the world's most painful paper cut.