So, the nurse took nine stitches out of my finger this morning.
She called in an assistant to hold my finger while she poked and pulled the blue stitching up to the surface. She used a clamp and small scissors, cutting string one by one.
Everything was fine until she made a uh-oh sound and then started to speak in a way that was alarming to me.
Nurse: "Okay. I have to get this stitch out and, it's uh, in between your nail and your skin".
(The nail you ask? It was removed for the surgery. Then replaced to help the finger heal - yes, removed, replaced and I'm told will fall off and grow back, way on down the road. Yay.)
Nurse looks directly into Patient's eyes.
Patient: "Okay, everybody BACK OFF me"!
I wanted to bolt out of the room. I felt crowded. I got claustrophobic. . .I placed my head in between my legs and tried to breathe normally.
Uggggghhhh.
I know one thing about medical professionals. They are just like construction workers, who are just like carpenters, who are just like plumbers. They tell you it will take two weeks to do your renovation nay! reconstruction - and we all know that they lie like the rugs they lay. Two weeks turns into a month and the money due is usually tripled.
Medical professionals are no different.
Dr. Giampapa told me I was going to feel some discomfort.
Feel
some
discomfort
HA!
Let me tell you...pain is a four letter word and she's a bitch!
Nobody fully prepares you for meeting her and unless you meet her face to face, you will not be fully acquainted.
That's what he should've told me before the surgery. That's what I'd tell anyone going in for reconstructive surgery on their finger tip.
Old Patient to New Patient: "You my friend, are going to become well acquainted with pain, so prepare yourself!"
I appreciated the nurse's candor, but perhaps that was not the right time for me to be told to bite the bullet. Less is more when you're in the middle of it.
Before, definitely. After, too late. During, not so much.
I felt like I was going to faint.
The blood began draining from my head and I got queasy.
The nurse and her assistant began scurrying out the door and back in with a bucket that at first I guessed they'd use if I got sick. But it was filled with ice water and gauze.
They began placing wet, gauze compresses on my forehead, the back of my neck, and my wrists. It calmed me somewhat.
But I seriously had to calm myself down - she had only taken out half of the the damn stitches.
I stabilized and I asked to continue. I needed this torture to be over.
Pull, tug, snip. Pull, tug, snip - ooouuuuuchhhhh, a few tears and I got through it.
It actually wasn't that bad. We all agree, the worst (pain) is over.
Whew! A few deep cleansing breaths, ahhhhh, much better.
They bandaged me up for another two weeks. I still have to keep it elevated and bathe it in baby shampoo everyday. It's still painful to the bone, disgusting, white, unrecognizable and so far, completely useless.
They have assured me it's doing what it's supposed to be doing.
What? You want to see another picture.
Okay, but this was yesterday, so still stitched up.
Tomorrow, when I change the dressing, I'll take another shot.
Here you go... but beware...it's ugly.
Listen, I told you! I didn't lie did I? : *(
So, here's to Summer . . .
PS i've undergone hand surgery so ... more pics, less typing ...
