Archive for June 24th, 2009

the reveal

<WARNINGClose up of injury at bottom of post. You were warned. No whining.>

Tuesday, June 16. Stitch removal day.

I was already a little freaked out going in. Honestly, who schedules a stitch removal at 10 am? That’s just enough time for me to get worked up for a catastrophic minor freak out [not the good type either] but not enough to request Chad to haul himself across town to pat me on the head and tell me it would be OK.

So there I sat in the waiting room….waiting. Until my number was up I was called and led to a different room to wait. I would argue this new room to simply be waiting room 2, but I believe it was in fact the Suture Removal Room. No, really. Saw it on the door.  So there I saw in SRR waiting. Until it was time to have an x-ray. I march down the hall following a very nice lady who probably wasn’t a born liar, but I could be wrong. I was visibly freaking out distressed and tried to bolster my confidence by stating that, “I’m a little freaked out because the only other time I had stitches was in my face and they REALLY hurt when removed.”

And the next words out of the nice lady’s mouth made me reconsider that perhaps, in fact, she was a born liar. [Bear with me, this isn’t an exact quote] “Oh it won’t hurt. The more fat you have under the skin the less it will hurt. You’ll be fine.” Ok. First off, I do have fat. I am aware of this. But I do NOT have fat on the under side of my forearm, and particularly NOT on my elbow.  I think my eyeballs buldged out of my head – you know, like Wile E. Coyote.

I  did not have much time to ponder this statement as I was soon trying to contort my (recently) broken arm for a series of X-rays. Presumably to ensure that (despite these contortions) the bones were still all nicely plated & pinned together. This achieved I went back to the SRR. So there I was hanging out, sending emails until the surgeon came in to let me know that all was still where it was supposed to be. Yay. Pins, plate, bones. All good. Whew. With that good news,  I settled in to wait some more.

[As an aside: When choosing my outfit for the day I figured hey, maybe this suture removal might cause bleeding. Exercising a little foresight which is not typical for me, I wore a tank top & a loose button up shirt. Eventually I do catch on.]  So there I sat in the SRR in my tank top…waiting. In comes man in lab coat who states in a sing-song way, “And you’re here for suture removal…” Which I was fairly certain was obvious since I was in the Suture Removal Room.

I nod yes (trying desperately not to freak out) and hold up my left arm. He walks around me and looks confusedly at the back of my shoulders, then glances down at the, sort of, outstretched arm. “Oh, it’s your arm. Your shoulders were all there so I thought that’s where it was.”  I’m not certain what he meant by all there, which is again not exactly a direct quote, but I guessed he meant exposed. ‘Cause that’s what happens when you wear a tank top. 

Trying to remain calm I apologize for being “a little freaked out” and tried to not escalate to Berzerker level  A LOT freaked out since I couldn’t  possibly have that many stitches. When that failed I tried to take deep breaths. When that failed, and it did in about 1 second, I just dug the nails of my right hand into the exam table and tried not to make loud “someone help me I’m having my skin pulled off” noises…. at which I also failed. Yes, I was that person behind the curtain making horrid moaning noises so loud that you have to imagine that an emergency appendectomy is being performed without anesthesia.

I think I must have turned a little pale because Mr. Suture Removal Guy, upon the removal of the final, stupid, painful, mean suture seemed to think I required steadying. I assured him that I was fine and was not going to pass out on him. But if he could really hurry up with the putting tape on the wound I’d be quite thrilled as it was rather uncomfortable and I would like to go home and take some acetaminophen, thank you very much.

So there you have it. Stiches out. All stuff still where it’s supposed to be. Four more weeks of PT to try to get full extension back. Then another check up. Then who knows. I’m fine, but pity Chad!

chris on June 24th 2009 in Family