Last summer I succumbed to the charms of Dr. Pimple Popper. I started watching her on TV.
I was horrified and embarrassed to admit that I watch it. I never popped my own pimples even though I had lots of opportunity to do so. I had acne for most of my adult life, until I stopped producing estrogen thanks to menopause. I had heard it was bad to take things into my own hands, literally, to get rid of the pimple by popping it. The last thing I wanted to do was create a souvenir of the pimple by leaving a small scar behind. Yes, I was shocked and ashamed of myself for my Dr. Pimple Popper fascination, but once I started I couldn’t look away, the kind of feeling you get when you must drive past a car accident.
In the world of karma, I’ve always been instructed NOT to think about the things I don’t want to happen, because the universe might misinterpret all that interest as being something I want to happen. Kind of a karmic back-fire. I even foolishly said this out loud to someone, suggesting the universe might think I want something weird to happen on my body when actually I don’t.
And then it did happen. I should’ve known better because my body is almost always weird and unpredictable. I can count on it. Around August I noticed a little white bump in the centre of my right cheek. A month later it looked a little longer. I grabbed my hand mirror, took off my glasses and scrutinized it. There was definitely something there, fortunately not icky or disgusting. There was nothing to pop. I wondered if it might be a wart because it looked similar to some warts I had when I was a teenager that had to be cauterized.
In the end, I diagnosed myself with help from Dr. Pimple Popper and Dr. Google. It’s a cutaneous horn. I’m a little young to have one, most people get them in their 60s and 70s. Most are benign, some can become precancerous and even cancerous. My family doc has referred me to a plastic surgeon to have it removed.
Another recent skin issue. A week ago I broke out in a very itchy rash all over my legs. It was a reaction to a cream my family doc prescribed to control the neuropathic pain. It didn’t even work. The itchiness was worse when I laid down of course, because the warmth of the blankets brought it out in full force. That Friday night I didn’t sleep much.
The only thing I had enough of to cover my legs, in my vast inventory of OTC products, was a cream for itchy lady parts. A combination of zinc and hydrocortisone. It pretty much worked enough for me to fall asleep. I sure hope the universe isn’t confused by my unconventional use of the lady part cream, to grow another va-GG or pubic hair on my legs.