I really can't take it anymore - the pain, the frustration, the humiliation. I've tried to work through this for years, but I've finally reached the end of my rope. Hell, I've even thought of using a rope! Or worse. What could be worse than rope, you ask? Fire. Fire would be bad. It would really hurt. So, no fire. Or can you imagine, water? Deep, cold water? Me either. Bbbrrrrr.
No. I am going to do it with surgical precision. A scalpel, maybe some local anesthetic. Or not. Depends on how bad I want to remember the experience, what's it to you? Sorry. I'm just a little nervous around needles and stuff. Forgive me.
But I try to stay focused on the upside. Soon, it will all be over, and then, bliss! I won't ever again need to explain it to strangers, or excuse it with friends. I'll be able to regain more social activities, instead of always avoiding crowds. I may even be able to smile for the cameras once again. I understand I used to do that, when I was young. But I am not young. Not anymore. I have a sister who's young, and good for her. Or maybe I am already too damaged psychologically by all these years of dealing with this horribly deforming facet of my life. If that's the case, well, I already have a well-stocked wine cellar, so I can tell the whole world to just bug off. And I'll do it, too, believe me. But only if it comes to that, I promise.
Mostly, besides getting rid of the pain, I look forward to mounting the buggers on a wall plaque after the surgery. The doctor already promised me, and even suggested I have them bronzed. I thought that might be a little over the top, but I'll be happy to keep them on my desk in a specimen jar. Like a butterfly, or a frog. My wife is a little sickened by the whole idea, but she is glad I'm finally having them cut off. They were really starting to bother her. Or rather, all the grief they were causing me, that's what was bugging her. She just got tired of my years of complaining.
So, I go in next Wednesday. It's well past time - all the other so-called solutions didn't do anything to alleviate the problem. I tried soaking them, taping them, even using every over-the-counter remedy known to drug stores. Nada. Zip. So, enough.
Those damn nose warts are coming off!! Yeah!
You do know what day this is, don't you?
April 1
What, you thought I was talking about my feet? How would I ever be able to dance again?
No. I am going to do it with surgical precision. A scalpel, maybe some local anesthetic. Or not. Depends on how bad I want to remember the experience, what's it to you? Sorry. I'm just a little nervous around needles and stuff. Forgive me.
But I try to stay focused on the upside. Soon, it will all be over, and then, bliss! I won't ever again need to explain it to strangers, or excuse it with friends. I'll be able to regain more social activities, instead of always avoiding crowds. I may even be able to smile for the cameras once again. I understand I used to do that, when I was young. But I am not young. Not anymore. I have a sister who's young, and good for her. Or maybe I am already too damaged psychologically by all these years of dealing with this horribly deforming facet of my life. If that's the case, well, I already have a well-stocked wine cellar, so I can tell the whole world to just bug off. And I'll do it, too, believe me. But only if it comes to that, I promise.
Mostly, besides getting rid of the pain, I look forward to mounting the buggers on a wall plaque after the surgery. The doctor already promised me, and even suggested I have them bronzed. I thought that might be a little over the top, but I'll be happy to keep them on my desk in a specimen jar. Like a butterfly, or a frog. My wife is a little sickened by the whole idea, but she is glad I'm finally having them cut off. They were really starting to bother her. Or rather, all the grief they were causing me, that's what was bugging her. She just got tired of my years of complaining.
So, I go in next Wednesday. It's well past time - all the other so-called solutions didn't do anything to alleviate the problem. I tried soaking them, taping them, even using every over-the-counter remedy known to drug stores. Nada. Zip. So, enough.
Those damn nose warts are coming off!! Yeah!
You do know what day this is, don't you?
April 1
What, you thought I was talking about my feet? How would I ever be able to dance again?
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