What the...?!?

So I've had this sore on my hip for like a month now and it's been slowly going away, so I haven't given it too much thought. Though because I knew I hadn't had a cut, bite, or scratch there, I did think, "What the hell is that?!?" After it lingering for a couple weeks, my friend Jill saw my band aid and asked what was up. I told her about the sore and she stated, "You better make sure that's not staph." Commence freak-out mode. I have been reading a lot of yucky stuff about the staph bacteria (AKA, flesh-eating disease, among other colorful names) on the news lately. Most recently, how staph infections kill more people every year than AIDS. One trip to your friendly, informative, freak-out-enhancing internet will make you privy to all the gory details. At any rate, as my stress level and magnified mirror inspections intensified over the next few days, I decided I should just go to the stupid doctor. So as I sat in the doctor's office while the prep nurse or whatever they're called puzzled over my sore--clearly perplexed as to what the heck it was--I just wanted to yell, "Just cut it off already!" Finally, the doc came in, took one look at "it" and said plainly......."It's an infected stretch mark." I must've looked at her like she was smoking crack because she then proceeded to explain that she'd just had another chick in with infected stretch marks all up and down her thighs, so there. I did actually say, "Did you say an infected stretch mark?!?!?! Are you sure it's not staph or skin cancer?!?!?" Nope. Just a plain ol' infected stretch mark. So, people, still I'm sitting here saying to myself, "What the...?!?!?"