For the last 3 or 4 years I have had a cyst on my chest. It was a normal little cyst that just hung out there and didn't do much. Until this past weekend. It grew. And it grew. And it grew. Till it was the size of a ping pong ball or so. On my chest. Which hurt. A lot.
So I told my mom I needed to see a doctor ASAP it hurt so much and I knew something was wrong. Monday morning came and I found myself at a dermatologist with a nurse in shock that I had a cyst as big as I did. On my chest.
The doctor comes in and tells me she really needs to drain it. I was expecting it, but still cried from my anxiety with needles and knives. On my chest. I do have to say thought given that I was by myself I think I did pretty damn awesome with controlling my emotions.
You may be asking yourself now why this was the grossest experience of my life. Well the doctor numbed me up, cut me open, and started pushing and squeezing. She warned me ahead of time that it would smell a little. And boy did it smell! And then next thing I knew as she was squeezing and pushing it squirted out ON MY FACE!
That was when I lost it. I had held the tears very well up until then and next thing I knew I was sobbing and extremely grossed out. I didn't want to see anything that had to do with draining the cyst and about died when I did.
After some more squeezing and pushing the doctor was finished. She stuffed it full of gauze that I now have to pull out day by day. I am NOT looking forward to that and have no idea how it will get done.
When it was all said done, I only had one question. Can I still get a husband with a scar on my chest? Fortunately I was reassured on Instagram that I will still be beautiful with a scar and I can still get a husband. Whew!