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[FONT=Comic Sans MS][COLOR=DarkOrchid]I've posted this story before on here somewhere, but it's worth posting it again to underline what [B]not[/B] to do when you get frustrated!

In my second year of uni I had a very persistent cyst in the left corner of the bridge of my nose. By persistent I mean it kept coming up and going down in a month-long cycle. I just couldn't understand why it kept returning. Not only was it painful but it was very prominent. So one evening after watching a film ([I]Escape From Alcatraz[/I] with Clint Eastwood :D), and having been thoroughly irritated by this cyst (now onto its fifth or sixth cycle), I decided to take action. Up until this point I had been very patient with it. But I'd just had enough and snapped.

I locked myself in the bathroom, where we had a mirror above the sink, and ran some hot water. First I squeezed the puss out of the cyst and then some blood. But I knew that wasn't going to be enough to see it off for good. This evil thing had staying power... I was going to have to do something drastic. So out comes the pumice stone (the kind you use to scrape hard skin off your feet with). I cracked the end of the stone to give a sharp edge and then went to work.

For over half an hour I winced in agony as I dug out the remains of the cyst (and the surrounding skin for good measure). Needless to say there was blood everywhere. But I didn't care - I just wanted to get rid of that cyst for ever. By the time I'd finished there was a hole where the raised cyst had been. I went to sleep with a wad of tissue covering it to stem the bleeding. When I woke up and cleaned up the wound I was pleasently surprised to see that it didn't look too bad.

However, everyone who knew me, of course, realised what I had done and why I had this deep scar on my face. But that didn't really bother me. As long as that cyst never came back I would be happy. And to this day it never recurred. I still have a pitted scar but it is not noticeable because of where it is. However, it took a fortnight for the initial wound to heal and it looked a complete state. I would never recommend this drastic course of action to anyone, how ever frustrated you become with your acne :nono:

In another happy story (about four years before the other one), I once had a clump of three hideous cysts on my chin. At that age I was always daft enough to prod and poke my spots. So they became further rooted under the skin and formed to make a super-cyst :eek: So, foolishly (instead of leaving it) I lathered on the Benzoyl Peroxide. The next day the cyst was in one hell of a mess - it had three separate heads that had been exposed and enraged by the BP, surrounded by blood and the grazes from my attempts to pop them a couple of days earlier. Lovely.

And, of course, I had to go to school looking like this. Woohoo! So what did I do? Well, I found the biggest plaster I could find and covered it up. Obviously everybody was intrigued as to what was under the plaster. So I told them I had flown over the handlebars of my bike and grazed it along the ground. Surprisingly nobody really challenged this obvious lie - not even the bullies. But I had to wear that plaster for the whole week before I was brave enough to inflict my chin on the world :rolleyes: Once again, the moral of the story is don't pick at cysts![/COLOR][/FONT]





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