What Happens If You Remove A Lipoma Yourself?

My family home accidentally catches on fire, and my father risks his life to save my sister. He ends up with severe burns and urgently needs a blood transfusion to save his life. I'm not in the vicinity, so I ask my fiancé to help. He tells me the hospital doesn't have enough blood stored and mobilizes the city's blood banks—he does it to save my sister, who only has minor burns. Leonard Gallagher shows up when I'm at my most desperate. He takes 600ml of my blood and rushes back to my hometown. Meanwhile, I pass out by the roadside due to severe blood loss. When I wake up, Leonard tells me my father has died due to significant blood loss. I'm disfigured after knocking my head on a sharp rock. He holds my bandaged face tenderly and tells me he'll use his life to make it up to me. After three years of marriage, I'm six months pregnant when I lose consciousness and need to be rescued. That's when I overhear Leonard's conversation with a doctor. "It's been three years. Can we do the skin grafting procedure again? Zoe needs it for her cosmetic surgery." "Mrs. Gallagher has recovered very well, so it's okay to proceed with the procedure. However, even if she's Ms. Lore's sister, there's still a chance of rejection." "Her blood already flows in Zoe's veins—what does the skin matter? It's already the second time, anyway." It turns out the help I've given on the brink of death only leads to Zoe Lore's enhanced beauty. To Leonard, I'm nothing but a source of flesh and blood for Zoe. I'm tired. I think it's time to be reunited with my father.

My competitive eater classmate, Selina Reeves, bound me to a fat transfer system. No matter how much food she ate, I was the one who gained weight. Later, she was named one of the top 100 food bloggers while I ballooned to 200 pounds and lost my job. My boyfriend did not seem to mind. He even proposed with unwavering confidence. A month later, Selina entered a competitive eating contest and devoured 20 pounds of ribs in one sitting. The excessive fat intake triggered acute hypertension, and I died on the spot. My husband inherited my substantial fortune, then turned around and married Selina without a second thought. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself three months in the past. Selina's food streaming career was just starting to gain traction, and I still weighed 90 pounds. This time, I snatched the ten-inch cake right out of her hands and ate every last bite. She had no idea I had bound myself to a food transfer system. No matter how much I ate, it would transfer to her stomach tenfold.

When my middle-school-aged daughter underwent surgery for appendicitis, I messaged her homeroom teacher to request a two-week leave of absence. The teacher called back a few minutes later, clearly irritated. “Mrs. Stephens, is your daughter going to take time off during the SATs, too? Other students attend school even with broken legs. Why is Claire the only one demanding special treatment?” I already knew Claire’s teacher was notoriously difficult, so I steadied myself and explained as patiently as I could. “Miss Lawson, an appendectomy is an invasive surgery. Her doctor has specifically ordered at least two weeks of bed rest. I hope you can understand…” Before I could finish, she hung up. Convinced I had made myself clear, I set my phone down and thought no more about it. I never expected Claire to come running home in tears two weeks later. “Mom, Miss Lawson said the advanced class has no place for lazy students like me and that she refuses to teach me anymore. She also said no one needs two weeks to recover from such a minor surgery. She accused me of sleeping around, getting pregnant, and secretly staying home to recover from an abortion.”

My father-in-law was clinging to life after a car accident. The only way he'd survive is if I—a top surgeon—operated on him myself. I'd just changed into my scrubs when my wife, Clara Stevens, rushed in and grabbed my arm. "You're not going anywhere. The priority is protecting Rick's face. Not a single scar, you hear me?" I pulled away. "Dad has minutes left. If we miss the window, he's gone." Clara didn't even flinch. "That worthless country bumpkin father of yours was born a burden. If he dies, he dies—at least we won't have to take care of him anymore. But if Rick's face gets ruined, I swear you'll pay." Her first love, Rick Ford, tugged her sleeve with a fake whimper. "Clara, your husband seems pretty upset. You think he's stalling on purpose? Trying to hurt me?" I was so angry, I just laughed. So that was the case. All along, Clara thought the one dying… was my father.

As I secured the safety rope, I discovered that the metal clip had been replaced with a flimsy plastic ring. My girlfriend, already on the soft ladder, dismissed my concern casually. "Ryan has got a ton of luggage. One clip isn't enough to keep it secure, so I gave him yours. Just wait for the next trip." In desperation, I pointed to the floodwaters surging past my chest. "But I can't swim!" "Cut the drama, okay?" she huffed. "You're a swimming champ. What's the big deal about treading water for a bit? Ryan is related to my boss, and if anything happens to him, my promotion is down the drain. Can't you be reasonable?" "Is his luggage more important than my life?" I shot back, lunging for the ladder. But she kicked me away. "I've checked. The water won't rise too fast. At worst, it'll reach your neck. You'll survive." Refusing to argue further, I watched the floodwaters rage higher and quickly pressed a special emergency beacon on my wrist.

My mother, Winona Barlowe, who was the medical director at the hospital, decided to let my intern sister, Mia Barlowe, practice her skills by performing a brain tumor surgery on me. I begged my mother to assign another doctor since it was my only chance at survival. She slapped me across the face and cried out, "How did I ever give birth to a selfish girl like you? Mia just started her internship. Can’t you give her the chance to practice?" When I died from the botched surgery, she turned gray overnight.