My day at the doctor

I finally got my stitches out yesterday. AND, I didn't pass out while it was happening! Don't get me wrong... I'm not one of those people who faint at the sight of blood or who get woozy over, let's say a radish skin that appeared to be blood on them. But let me tell you... I am generally not ok with anything that involves stuff moving or coming apart. Blood - ok. Stitches, muscle cutting, moving organs... not ok. After my surgery the doctor was explaining why I was so sore and decided to start the conversation with "well, I had to move the muscles around..." I completely interrupted her with a dog-like yip and moan. I instantly started to sweat and had chills all over my body. I tried to explain that I'd prefer her to not discuss that in front of me and if it was necessary she could go in the hallway and tell Dan. She had a look on her face that was similar to "are you for real?" I assure you my babbling was making no sense and was probably something like "oh no, no, no! cuts no, chills, please stop, throw-up, oh God, not ok, tell dan, muscles (gag), ugh, please stop." Luckily Dan was right there to interpret what I was saying and the doctor laughed and said "that's probably why I'm the surgeon and not you?" Oh haha...make fun of the girl with cancer...

This same scenario happened whenever the nurses decided to teach me how to clean my incision. Dan was there each time to assure them they didn't need to discuss it in front of me and that he would be handling the wound cleaning (oh, I just gagged as I typed that!).

So fast forward to yesterday when I had to get my stitches out. I was worked up in my typical fashion, which included a lot of sweating and chills. We dropped Easton off at my friends because I needed all of Dan's attention on me for when I passed out or died from the stitch removal (seriously? who knows what the surgeon did in there. maybe she tied a stitch to my breathing nerve on accident and when they took the stitch out I would not be able to breathe and I would die! Just an example). Additionally, I still don't understand why every health care professional feels it's necessary to discuss what exactly they are doing. Because if I wanted to know? I would either A) say "what are you doing?" or B) become a health care professional myself. I didn't ask and I'm a 911 dispatcher... so that should probably lead them to believe that I seriously don't want to know. I think the nurse understood this (probably cuz I told her as we were walking in that I would probably pass out and under no circumstances did I want her to tell me what she was doing). Thankfully she listened and two snips and a pull (oh ugh.. gag), my stitches were out!

I thought I would look all fabulous without my stitches, but the doctor replaced the stitches with tape to keep it from pulling apart. So now instead of looking like a freak show with stitches I look like an even freaker show with tons of tape on my neck. I only have the tape on for a week, but at least we don't have to clean it anymore (well, dan doesnt)!

More later!