Warts - a journey
To start at the beginning of the wart saga, click here.
Part Four - Living Room Surgery (beware, gory post, not for pansy stomachs)
At this point, I had weakened the wart considerably. True, it was still there, but an interesting thing was happening. I could pick at it, and it began to come out! I was still focusing on the motherwart at this point; after a few days of steady picking, I could see a lot of the wart. I could pull it part-way out of my foot, roll it around, etc. It looked like a tapioca ball. But it was still attached to my foot. Just didn’t want to let go. And too much pulling on it proved that it would be a painful affair to dislodge the wart from my foot.
Obviously, drinking would solve this problem. After an interesting night of moderate revelry, I solicited buddy J. to yank out the wart. J. has had his own medical experiements - he once participated in a testosterone study that involved smearing an estrogen gel on his arms every day for a year. Through this study, J. apparently experienced the joys of being a menopausal woman. A good lesson in empathy, but overall, a traumatic couple of months. As evidence of his insane mood swings, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to spend the $1000 he got from the study on an archery set, or a nice set of Analon pots and pans for his kitchen. He went for the pots.
Long story short, J. agreed to pull the wart out of my foot with tweezers. It was about 2 in the morning. My husband had already gone to sleep. We burned the tweezers with a match (that’s sterile, right?) dipped it in alcohol (definitely sterile), and took a shot of vodka. “Ready?” Before I could answer, J. gripped the wart and pulled, fast.
It was like uncorking a bottle of champagne. A fountain of red blood squirted everywhere. We contemplated whether or not we got the whole thing, but it was impossible to tell with all the blood everywhere.
The next day, my foot was pulsing something fierce and I couldn’t really walk on it. But soon, the wound healed, and there was a scab. And then the scab fell off, and the wart came back, bigger and badder than ever.
Part Four Again - Another Living Room Surgery
I attempted this method again about 4 months later. The wart seemed ready to go again. This time, my husband pulled it out. And it bled like crazy, and healed, and grew back.
Conclusion: After doing some further research, I discovered that this method of surgery is not a good idea (duh). First, it’s quite easy to get an infection, since a flame is not technically hot enough to sterilize metal instruments. And it’s usually recommended to do this type of thing in a doctor’s office. Second, warts have deep roots, and it’s pretty impossible to get them all out without going under the knife of a real doctor who will numb you up and really dig in there. This usually involves stitches. But even this method is not recommended - it’s very difficult for the doc to get all the root. If he doesn’t, the wart is liable to grow back in the scar tissue, making it even more difficult/ impossible to remove.
