March 8, 2005

About a month ago, I bit the inside of my lip.

This would not be a newsworthy event except that it kept swelling up and then going down, over and over and over again. When it would get almost all the way down, I would bite it again–by accident–and it would swell up again, even bigger this time.

The end result of this was that, by the end of last week, when I had delicious tea with him, I had a repulsive protuberance on my lip so distracting that, when I explained what had happened in the form of an amusing story, he blurted out, “Oh, thank God, because I’ve been staring at it not knowing what to say.”

My harelip was so grotesque, in fact, that it gave me a speech impediment. Ordinarily I have, like many gay Americans, a very slight lateral lisp. With the pustulant boil on my lower lip, though, the lisp was far more pronounced than usual; I also couldn’t say the letters F or V without a lot of extraneous hissing.

This made for a great class on Thursday, let me tell you, when we were discussing Falsettos.

In any case, I saw E.S. Friday night for the first time in a few days and he was horrified at what could only be an alien egg sac implanted in my lip. He attempted valiantly to ignore my deformity but the last straw came when I couldn’t kiss him in anything resembling an effective manner.

So he lanced it.

I will not provide details, as there are some things simply too gross to bear repeating. But I will say that he started with a paring knife (sterilized, of course, with rubbing alcohol–remember that he is a doctor); when that proved ineffective, he went on to a fondue fork. In the end it was a finishing needle that did the trick. The whole thing was especially unnerving given that we’d had a fight that morning in which I’d crankily blamed him for making me late to a meeting.

It’s entirely possible that there are more uncomfortable positions than sitting still while a man who may not have forgiven you for calling him a bastard pokes your mouth repeatedly with a sharp knife.

But I haven’t been in them.

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18 Responses to About a month ago, I

  1. i. bendito says:

    Did this actually happen or have you been dipping into Les 120 journées de Sodome?

    Reply
  2. Rob says:

    Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

    But I’m sure it was satisfying to have it lanced. That sounds dirty. Yikes.

    Reply
  3. Jeffrey says:

    Please, please, please. Will you forever be promulgating the fringe benefits of being involved with he of the medical persuasion? But then again, we don’t get these kinds of scenes on QAF.

    Reply
  4. anapestic says:

    It’s entirely possible that there are more uncomfortable positions than sitting still while a man who may not have forgiven you for calling him a bastard pokes your mouth repeatedly with a sharp knife.

    But I haven’t been in them.

    Well, you’re still young.

    Reply
  5. David says:

    There’s still time for me to photoshop the alien egg sac into your book jacket photo. I am involved in secret communications with your publisher.

    Reply
  6. tim says:

    Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got a doctor who does free shit for you. We all can’t be lucky… whatever.

    Reply
  7. Matt Sweet says:

    If he ever says, “Let’s have a look at that mole,” run like hell.

    Reply
  8. chris says:

    like just remind him that you are, in fact, a PORN STAR. send him the tape if u need to. all will be forgiven. he *is* gay, you know.

    Reply
  9. Convivia says:

    It’s entirely possible that there are more uncomfortable positions than sitting still while a man who may not have forgiven you for calling him a bastard pokes your mouth repeatedly with a sharp knife.

    But I haven’t been in them.

    At least, not without dinner and a movie first…

    Reply
  10. rahul says:

    ooo.. ooo.. yes! lip thingys are gruesome! I get sooo bloody paranoid when i have them! (and i get dem whenever i have a cold or allery.. *sad face* )

    Reply
  11. Al says:

    if I were a doctor/resident/person in a white coat, I’d carry a scalpel in my pocket throughout the day. Just in case . . . and just because . . . . Much better than walking around with Black’s Dictionary, not that I do that. Glad you made it through, however; I don’t know what I would do without this blog.

    Reply
  12. Matt says:

    ah, the beauty of self-surgery. talk about reduced waiting times in our health care facilities… 😉

    Reply
  13. hot toddy says:

    That was a romantic story. I can’t wait until I meet someone special who will lance the pus out of me. I always say that is how I’ll know he is the one.

    Reply
  14. anapestic says:

    Yeah, I understand that Frank Loesser tried desperately to work “lance a boil” into “I’ll Know,” but he gave up when he couldn’t come up with anything better than “pants a mohel.”

    Reply
  15. Kevin says:

    Let me guess: you went to Tea and Sympathy in Greenwich?

    Reply
  16. Convivia says:

    I forgot to mention that I once met someone named Lance Boyle. Fortunately, it was at a conference and not at a party, because I think even a little bit of alcohol would have been enough to make me explode in giggles at his name.

    Parents can be cruel.

    Reply
  17. matt says:

    I’m not sure that “cruel” adequately covers that. They must have been either utterly stupid or profoundly evil.

    My money’s on the former.

    Reply
  18. LD says:

    It sounds like you have a mucous extravasation cyst, which isn’t a problem except sometimes they don’t go away until the affected salivary gland has been excised. But, uh…what would I know? Good thing you have a *real* doctor to take care of you.

    Reply

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