Holes, In Different Area Codes

Tricky, tricky body. Some people say that weird things start to happen to your body when you’re in your twenties, others say it’s your thirties. I am in-between, and I can tell you it’s now.

I have this theory that whenever one hole in my body closes up, another one opens. When I was eighteen this hole formed in the roof of my mouth. I went to an oral surgeon who thought it was an exploded salivary gland.

“What can you do for me?” I asked, after his diagnosis.

“Well. I don’t like the looks of it.” He had a beard, which he of course slapped a medical mask over. Is there nothing creepier than that? That’s like realizing your old auntie is wearing a swimsuit that becomes sheer when wet, and all the sudden you can see her No-No Place through it. Doctors should be required to be clean-shaven, it oughta be a law.

“I think we should cut it out, and biopsy it.”

“You mean you’re going to cut my hole out, and replace it with an even bigger one?”

“Ahhh,” he said, for I cracked his Zen riddle. There was nothing else to say after that, so he rubbed his mask over his beard, thoughtfully, and it made that hideous scratching sound that only a beard and a surgical mask can make.

Recently, the hole closed up. No more hole that I had to lie about and say it “didn’t hurt a bit” when the dentist would probe it with his little pick. No more shooting, tickly feeling that traveled up to my ear when I licked it. It took seven years to close up, and now I kind of miss it.

It got to be reassuring, the way your little toes are: don’t need ’em, but would miss ’em if they were gone.

But the pendulum swung the other way, as it is wont to do. Now I have a giant hole on my shoulder blade that won’t close up. It’s not cancer or anything. It’s the most giant zit ever.

Buried, three miles below SJ’s surface. Deeper than the Titanic. It lived as a slightly ouchy lump for months, waiting, waiting, for my mouth-hole to close up, I am convinced.

Now it is the Zit That Won’t Go Away. I squeeze it, it refills itself fast as a drink in a Chinese restaurant. I ignore it, it lurks, waiting. The victimized pore is now large enough to act as a rain gauge, should I choose to lie in the yard topless.

Me vs. My Body. Who will win? Where will the next hole appear?

16 thoughts on “Holes, In Different Area Codes

  1. Wouldn’t try it… I mean, Mr. Husband has to hump you *someplace*, right?

    Then again, there’s always the back office.

    All this to say, I had one of those frickin’ zit holes too when I was 17 or thereabouts. It was midway down the middle of my back. My own damn fault; I kept attacking it, and it retaliated. Based on my experience I’d say try to leave it alone. (It did close up — took about a year, despite me.)

  2. Yeah. Okay. That sound you’re hearing from over on Capitol Hill is actually my long piercing sustained scream of total fuck’n horror. Cuz you know how you wouldn’t talk about, like, an impacted hemeroid or a burst testicle? Or, like, if you forgot to take out a tampon and you got terrible body odor for weeks and you couldn’t figure it out and then you remembered to pull the crusty fuckn’ thing out of there and it was all black and you realized that smell was actually your body desperately trying to process the toxins of a massive bacterial infection? You know how you wouldn’t talk about something like that? Yeah. That’s how much you shouldn’t talk about big fuck’n zit holes.
    But just for the record, what you do is, you take a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and twice a day you put the open end of the bottle up against the hole and lean, so the alcohol splashes up against the infection. This will keep it relatively clean, will get rid of the body grease that’s causing the problem, and will hurt kind of a lot. But dry crusty cuts are better than greasy pussy holes. After the initial splash, go ahead and soak some cotton in alcohol and clean around the wound. After about a week of this, the infection will be mostly gone and the cut will just be a cut, instead of a massive infection. At that point just keep it clean and cover it with a band-aid. It should clear up in a couple of weeks.
    Not that anyone asked.
    Now I’m gonna go wash my brain out with soap and hot water.

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  4. rubbing alcohol. that’s a good idea if the hole is big enough. otherwhis it just shrinks your pores and traps more bacteria in them. my mother believes nail polish remover works but she is insane. a good hot lance would work, but a third degree burn might not be any better for the bikini. or you could just keep picking at it. see if you can get it to actually forn the shape of something. like a map of iowa on your back. or the face of elvis. then people would come from miles around to stare at the glory of the king memorialized in your torso.

  5. Windex! it’s the cure-all. (so says the authors of my big fat greek wedding.)
    sooo-umm, when you got some of your piercings did you notice some other holes closing??

  6. So here I am, nosing through your archives :O)

    I had a recurrent superzit on the side of my knee. Don’t think it was a big as your one sounds.

    I kept squeezing it and squeezing it, and sticking pins in it to puncture it and then squeezing it. In the end, a sort of little tiny bag of skin-like stuff came out – the pore! But it still didn’t finish. There was a second pore for me to squeeze out (and tear off), and, once that was done, it healed up.

    I loved that zit.

  7. I love to pop zits and watch all of the juicy pus come out! Kind of a stress reliever – like bubble wrap bubble popping!

  8. ive got piles, their not good, kinda uncomfortable whatever you do, sometimes like passing razerblades, gonna sculk to the pharmacist for some medication, gonna be kinda like buying top shelf love mags, well worth the embarecment for some comfort, mm

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