Cysta-Bitch

So last Friday I was all hoo-ray about the sweet deal I got on those cysts being removed. I am STILL happy about the price, but let's recap the past week's developments on the issue . . .

Using the cream prescribed by the Physican Assistant (which, again, Praise Gawd, came with thee cheapest co-pay possible), my face has been peeling like I forgot to apply sunscreen while away on a tropical island somewhere. Okay, it's not THAT bad (am I dramatic? NEVER!!!) But the first week or so using the cream had me flaking and peeling. I was warned this would happen, but still it was annoying.

But after the scabbing from the cyst removal was finished I noticed that ONE of the cysts was still there, argh!!! Bitch, bitch, bitch! So I called the doctor's office and then said to come back in this morning for another go-see.

Luckily (for them and me and Dr. J, who had to listen to me whine) most of the peeling is now concluded. But they still needed to ZAP some of that one lingering-not-quite-yet-gone-bitch-cyst.

ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP.

That was 9 times - did you count as you read along?! Yes, NINE ZAPS of the electric needle. Just under my eye.

I deserve . . . I dunno, SOMETHING for being so tough. For not crying. For not hitting or kicking anybody.

Maybe a cupcake. Or ice cream. Or a massage. Or all three.

Bitch, be gone!