A teeny tiny pimple inside one’s nostril is not life-threatening, nor painful. It’s just damn annoying.
My primary physician prescribed antibiotic ointment and referred me to an otolaryngologist (ENT) just in case.
(Great! Besides a cardiologist, urologist, gastroenterologist, dermatologist, and a pedicurist, I now have an otolaryngologist!)
He shined a light probe up my nostril and sighed.
I don’t see anything.
But it FEELS LIKE SOMETHING’S THERE!
Well, it must be a “phantom pimple” like a phantom leg for an amputee. There’s nothing’s in your nostril. It’s only in your head.
Great. Now I need a psychologist.
Thought the punch line was going to be the bird of paradise flew up your nose with Little Jim Dickens’ song in mind.
Perhaps the words of Mark Twain might be fitting for today: "I've suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened."