We would just pull our stockings on and sing a new song that we were making up on the spot - say not only no (but the kind of NO a junkie says to rehab, scraping finger nails on the floor, or the door jamb or the feet of stranger in the lobby) and shake our heads smiling: "No we will not be preoccupied with how the gaping wounds, yep you can stick your hand or your arms through these wounds and out the other side, you could feel my cardigan, no I am not satisfied to live with a hole where my heart will be. Honey, I will not try to fix it, or dwell on it, I am going to walk in high heels, and I'm going to keep washing my hair, and I'm going to smile flirtatiously with the mailman each day until it goes away." We'd say that. And after awhile the burn was more like lightly toasted, and we didn't use band-aids in hopes of cauterization.
And we never ever ever called a doctor about it.