Dr. Pimple Popper

Dear Dr. Pimple Popper,

Long time fan, first time writer looking for a bit of advice. You see, after years of watching you and your show, I’ve developed a sense of second hand expertise when it comes to handling particularly difficult carbuncles. However, my inexperience with such blemishes as well as your program’s editing decisions have left me dangerously unaware of how to handle my current situation.

Believe me when I say that I use no exaggerations in my description. This colossal bleb was the diameter of a silver dollar, and protruded off my face so far it looked as though one of my nipples had not only gotten grotesquely infected, but migrated to my upper cheek.

And black. A color I was shocked could be possible in nature, let alone on the human body.

Upon trying to pop the abscess, I found it to be rock hard. So hard that I even chipped my fingernails as I tried to apply more and more pressure. After 45 minutes of squeezing, picking, scratching, and pulling, I finally got the skin to break. However, this did not yield the results I had become accustomed to. Rather, my cheek now had a black, crusty crater so deep that I could get knuckle deep before feeling even the slightest resistance. What was once a mound of fluid that extended off my body has now collapsed into a seemingly bottomless pit of regret.

Speaking of fluid - that would be a generous description. The consistency of what came flying out of my face was so solid, so dense, it actually cracked my bathroom mirror. The gelatinous substance that was left was so great in volume it looked like someone had emptied an entire bucket of Crisco in my sink.

This all would have been moderately tolerable if not for the stench. Oh God, the stench. Never in my life had I come across something so putrid, so vile. The animalistic rejection of such a smell was not only sickening, but downright painful. Even the thought of trying to describe it in writing makes me sick to my stomach all over again.

I write all this to simply ask: what now? Frankly, I’m scared. My wound has not healed. If anything, it’s getting deeper. The smell in my bathroom has not subsided. I cannot sleep due to the nightmares this experience has inflicted upon me, and all my waking hours are lived in constant fear of another such papule to arise.

No dermatologist will see me, as they believe this is some sort of elaborate prank, or the beginning of the next pandemic. Please, please guide me as to how to remedy this situation.

Kindest regards, Sebastian Q. Ashford III