I never thought I’d be the kind of person who’d end up on a medical show. You know those crazy stories where doctors pull something shocking out of someone’s body? Yeah, that became my story.
It all started with a little bump on the left side of my neck. At first, I didn’t think much of it. It was small, soft, and didn’t hurt. I assumed it was just a swollen lymph node, maybe from a cold. I even joked with my girlfriend, saying I was “growing a second head.” She laughed, but after a week, the swelling doubled in size. Then it started to hurt.
It wasn’t just pain — it was a deep, pulsating throb that made me feel like something inside was moving. At night, it itched. Sometimes, when I turned my head, I swore I felt a weird crawling sensation under my skin. That’s when I started to panic.
I went to a local clinic. The doctor checked it, pressed it gently, and frowned.
“Probably an infection,” he said. “We’ll give you antibiotics.”
I took the pills faithfully for a week, but nothing changed. In fact, the swelling got worse. My neck looked lopsided in the mirror, and I started feeling feverish and weak. One morning, I noticed a tiny spot on the bump — like a small dark dot. I pressed it gently, and I swear to God, it moved.
That was the moment I completely freaked out.
I rushed to the emergency room. The doctors were as confused as I was. They ordered an ultrasound. The technician’s expression said everything.
“Um… there’s definitely movement in there,” she said carefully.
Movement. In my neck.
They decided to make a small incision to see what was going on. I was wide awake during the procedure, just numbed by local anesthesia. I could feel the pressure and tugging as they cut. Then the surgeon suddenly muttered, “Oh my God.”
He stepped back slightly, and the nurse gasped. My heart was racing.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice trembling.
The doctor looked at me and said, “You had larvae inside your neck. Worms. Probably from a botfly or some kind of parasite.”
I thought I was going to faint. Worms. In my body.
He carefully pulled out several small, white larvae — squirming. The nurse quickly sealed them in a container. I couldn’t look. I felt sick, disgusted, terrified — and strangely relieved all at once. Because at least now I knew what was wrong with me.
Apparently, I’d probably been bitten by a tropical insect a few weeks earlier when I went hiking. It must have laid eggs under my skin. The larvae grew, feeding on tissue and blood until they were removed.
The doctor cleaned the wound thoroughly and prescribed medication to make sure no infection or leftover parasites remained. I had to return for check-ups every few days, but after a couple of weeks, I was healing well.
Emotionally, though, it took longer. For days, I couldn’t sleep properly. I kept imagining that there were still things crawling inside me. Every itch felt suspicious. But slowly, the fear faded, replaced by gratitude — because it could have been much worse.
Now, there’s just a small scar on my neck — a faint reminder of one of the strangest experiences of my life. Whenever someone mentions having a “weird bump,” I tell them, half-joking but completely serious:
“Get it checked. You never know what’s living under your skin.
