Sew? No, But I Cook A Little!

Well apparently the guy that put my stitches in can sew, but the woman who took them out can't... either that or she just can't see. So everyone is always telling me they like my stories, and well getting my stitches out was a story in itself. So here is my suture removal ordeal, along with an update on my face...

So I show up to the hospital Wednesday to get my "sutures" removed. A nurse named Nora takes me into a room and starts getting her little kit out. She starts talking, and well, doesn't stop, except to briefly ask what happened. She then lifts one leg in the air and throws her arms out Superman style, imitating what she would look like on rollerblades- exclaiming, "Oooooh Lordy!" I wanted to tell her that if that was how she tried to rollerblade then she would probably fall, but in my position- who am I to judge? So I was laughing, she was nice. So she has me lay down and she is seated next to me, then she says, "Oh let me take my glasses off, I can see better without them anyway." Great. So she starts going, talking the whole time, but keeps interrupting herself to complain how small the stitches are, and how tightly they were put in there. I kept telling her there were 7 of them, but she could only see 6. Again, great. Maybe Nora needed her glasses on after all. Nora managed to remove 4 of the 7...

So she calls in some reinforcements, and in walks Greg Focker. No kidding- male nurse, dorky, short, spiky black hair. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Turns out his name was Craig. Craig, Greg, pretty darn close don't you think? So he sits down and proceeds to remove the ones that Nora couldn't. He kept remarking about what a great job the person that put them in had done and asked me if they had been done by a plastic surgeon. Um no, just some Navy EMT at the e.r. But sounds like that could be a positive for my face (and eyebrow). So Focker gets the other three out (I told Nora there were 7) and back in comes Nora.

She sits back down and is now cleaning the area, that is still open by the way, and then starts putting steri-strips on to keep it closed. She says I'll only have to wear them for 2 weeks. Sweet. Seriously, I look even more ridiculous now than I did with the stitches. (see picture below) But as she is doing this a red-headed nurse comes in and starts gossiping about another woman on the floor and how much pizza she took home at the last party. And let me tell you, she was NOT the one that paid for that pizza. And the pizza was for the doctors and nurses, not her. Nora then turns to me and says, "We're talking about one of the secretaries that works here." So Nora and Red are going back and forth and I'm pretending I'm not listening because really I just want Nora to pay attention to my forehead and finish so I can get out of there- and seriously, thanks for the scoop. I can now sleep better at night. (Sigh.)

Now I leave the hospital, frankly looking even worse than when I entered with these steri-strips covering my face, and wondering how no one else was there with me to witness this chaos that has been this whole ordeal. It's like these people know I have a blog, and want to give me a story to tell. Anyways...

My face is healing nicely, I guess. And my eyebrow is growing back. But I took the steri-strips off today after one week. I couldn't take it anymore. And they weren't exactly my best look. So now it's time to begin the process of minimizing my scar. Wish me luck.

Wednesday morning, before I got my stitches out

Steri-strips... friend or foe?