code stupid
Feb. 11th, 2003 03:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeOne safety pin, bent back: from a pack of 100, $2.00
Bic lighter, red: $2.50
bottle of peroxide: $.70
The newfound knowledge that home surgery is not my forte: PRICELESS.
In other and longer words, I discovered that I was growing what seemed to me to be a second head under my arm. Not in the pit area, but right around the spot where the side of my bra goes (this is foreshadowing! pay attention, class!)
Upon discovery, I thought that my best course of action was to lance the shit out of this second head. What do I want with a second head? My other one is bad enough and gets me into trouble as it is, a second head would just be double the mayhem. Something which I firmly do not want.
I sterilised, to the best of my ability, a safety pin. Boiling spring water, peroxide, and heat. You could have circumsized a baby with this fucker, it was so clean. It was also rather HOT, as I was soon to discover when I tested it on the back of my right hand to see if it had cooled appropriately enough. (no, it had not at that point. and I now have the welt to prove it. hardcore.)
Skin gets a douse of peroxide, too. Just for good measure.
So, there I am. In my bedroom with my shirt off. Arm raised over my head and safety pin in hand.
The doctor is IN, baby.
Too bad the doctor only has the use of a tiny little makeup mirror to see what she is doing. However, I push on diligently. I have no medical insurance to take care of the problem and this second head has got to go.
One poke does nothing. Doesn't even hurt. Another poke is about the same. A third, much harder poke yields a yelp of surprise from me and a very tiny drop of blood. WTF? I'm trying to lance this stupid thing. Not milk it. A fourth poke and then I give up.
Clean the stupid thing off, name it Howard, and give Howard a bandage to keep the top of his head warm.
Later that night, DOCTAR CARRY diagnosed me with an subcutaenous abscess. I put hot water and sea salt compresses on it all night and doused the shit in tea tree oil. My desk now smells of hippies and everyone passing by is giving me strange looks because of how strongly the tea tree can actually smell in a not-very-well-ventiliated area. I am also growing desperate to get home, so I can remove my bra and soak the hell out of Howard with a hot compress.
And before any of you ask, yes. I am completely retarded/insane/stupid for doing this. But, when one does not currently have medical insurance with which to pay the movie star doctors then one must take matters into their own hands. And again, before any of you ask, yes I completely agree that this was not one of the best of decisions I've ever made in my life. It ranks right up there with dating the guy who ate his own vomit and majoring in photography in college.
Now, if you'll excuse me. Howard and I wish to go outside for a cigarette break.
Bic lighter, red: $2.50
bottle of peroxide: $.70
The newfound knowledge that home surgery is not my forte: PRICELESS.
In other and longer words, I discovered that I was growing what seemed to me to be a second head under my arm. Not in the pit area, but right around the spot where the side of my bra goes (this is foreshadowing! pay attention, class!)
Upon discovery, I thought that my best course of action was to lance the shit out of this second head. What do I want with a second head? My other one is bad enough and gets me into trouble as it is, a second head would just be double the mayhem. Something which I firmly do not want.
I sterilised, to the best of my ability, a safety pin. Boiling spring water, peroxide, and heat. You could have circumsized a baby with this fucker, it was so clean. It was also rather HOT, as I was soon to discover when I tested it on the back of my right hand to see if it had cooled appropriately enough. (no, it had not at that point. and I now have the welt to prove it. hardcore.)
Skin gets a douse of peroxide, too. Just for good measure.
So, there I am. In my bedroom with my shirt off. Arm raised over my head and safety pin in hand.
The doctor is IN, baby.
Too bad the doctor only has the use of a tiny little makeup mirror to see what she is doing. However, I push on diligently. I have no medical insurance to take care of the problem and this second head has got to go.
One poke does nothing. Doesn't even hurt. Another poke is about the same. A third, much harder poke yields a yelp of surprise from me and a very tiny drop of blood. WTF? I'm trying to lance this stupid thing. Not milk it. A fourth poke and then I give up.
Clean the stupid thing off, name it Howard, and give Howard a bandage to keep the top of his head warm.
Later that night, DOCTAR CARRY diagnosed me with an subcutaenous abscess. I put hot water and sea salt compresses on it all night and doused the shit in tea tree oil. My desk now smells of hippies and everyone passing by is giving me strange looks because of how strongly the tea tree can actually smell in a not-very-well-ventiliated area. I am also growing desperate to get home, so I can remove my bra and soak the hell out of Howard with a hot compress.
And before any of you ask, yes. I am completely retarded/insane/stupid for doing this. But, when one does not currently have medical insurance with which to pay the movie star doctors then one must take matters into their own hands. And again, before any of you ask, yes I completely agree that this was not one of the best of decisions I've ever made in my life. It ranks right up there with dating the guy who ate his own vomit and majoring in photography in college.
Now, if you'll excuse me. Howard and I wish to go outside for a cigarette break.
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Rx, MOTHERFUCKER!!1
Date: 2003-02-11 03:14 pm (UTC)Re: Rx, MOTHERFUCKER!!1
Date: 2003-02-11 05:00 pm (UTC)Re: Rx, MOTHERFUCKER!!1
Date: 2003-02-11 05:03 pm (UTC)anyway, who cares what you look like? :P you might make howard worse. and then he'll pop all over chris.