Two days to Christmas. I am the only occupant of the waiting room at the Medical Centre. The scar starts behind my left ear and curves down and forward along my jawbone. About 15 cm long, although its route has always been too sore to measure accurately. Black and spiny, like a small, irregular hawthorn hedge
The practice nurse is available almost immediately. She calls my name, and coughs as if she needs to cough.
Anticipation is at least fifty percent of the un-anaesthetised trauma of taking out stitches. The penalty of being adult is not being allowed to squeal. Fact is, the pain intensifies occasionally but never becomes unbearable. Ten minutes and we’re done. She holds out a dish with her trophies; not worth mounting on a wooden plaque.
We discuss her unusual surname, Turkish, her ex-husband’s. A dim almost forgotten figure. She coughs again and I sympathise; she says she’ll be off to bed for the afternoon. I compliment her on her skills and she shrugs professionally.
Life resumes.
My prostate op. left me with a scar from crutch to navel - it looked like the surgeon had been in me with both hands. It had been stapled up, not very professionally ( I still have an ugly puckering of that area) by, presumably, a minion left to tidy up..
ReplyDeleteWhen I went to my GP to have the staples removed he used something akin to fine nosed pliers and managed two before I was writhing in agony. "I'm not very good at this" he said - I wholeheartedly agreed. The result was he sent a skilled nurse to my home the next day to do the deed. I tensed myself in anticipation but hardly felt a thing. "All done" she announced. The difference in technique was amazing.
Avus: VR, my wife, SRN at one of "London's greatest teaching hospitals" used to do this. The trick is to trim the "loose" end of the stitch as close to the flesh as possible, so that the the smallest possible length of thread passes through the flesh during the pull. The practice nurse who did me noted several different kinds of stitch had been employed, somewhat complicating her work. It helped that I'd patted the stitches with moist cotton balls, washing a lot of the dried blood away.
DeleteYou could make up a variety of reasons for the scar, none of them the truth. It's going to be an impressive scar, and could be fodder for many imaginative short stories. Seriously, I'm glad to hear the stitches have been removed. It means you are that much closer to feeling better. Best Christmas wishes to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteColette: The best re-comment continues to be "You should see the other guy." More sardonically, "I mis-squeezed a blackhead."
DeleteI'm glad that the stitches are gone, but I have to say that I'm worried about the nurse coughing. Take care there and Merry Christmas to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteNewRobin13: Coughing - we were both masked. But this wasn't a time for knee-jerk timidity. We were both humans with a back story. I wanted to reach out and - eventually - so did she.
DeleteAnother ordeal banished to memory and a good job too!
ReplyDeleteHappy Christmas and a fab New Year to you and yours!!
Jean: Step by step without trying to forecast things. Now it's a case of "Dare we start looking at villa bookings in France for August 23?" Last year all the medicoes pushed us hard to make the holiday. All agreed we would profit mentally as well as medically.
DeleteHoch zum Leben!!
ReplyDeleteZu Schwer: I liked on of the non-literal translates: "High shall you live." Thanks for the sentiment
Delete