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Kiwi Crocus
28 February 2006 @ 11:00 pm
Mum and I tried to remove my stitches. One worked. The other got stuck. Through painful prodding and cutting, we still couldn't get it out. I wanted a nurse immediately. There was no way it was okay with me to have a stitch stuck in me when everything was so infected.

We called Diane, down the street, and she came up. She got the other three stitches out. She tried and tried with the last, but couldn't do it. At first she thought it was just a little piece of thread. I thought it was a stitch. She continued to try to get it out, but it pulled back.

She realized it was a stitch. She tried to pull it up and cut it, but couldn't do it. She couldn't do it with Mum's help. She asked me to hold up the knot of my own stitch, which was already in extreme pain from the infection and being cut open in the many attempts to get it out.

I did it, and my hands didn't shake. I was so proud. She was able to cut the stitch. I pulled it out myself. That made me proud, too.

The whole "keep breathing when in extreme pain" thing works very, very well. Why didn't I ever listen to the nurses? Probably because they were telling me to do it. I'm just harmful to myself. :P. The one time no one told me to I did.

It's 11, I didn't get to do homework because of PT and the Stitch Adventure, and I'm exhausted. Have to get up early tomorrow. I'm going to sleep. I'll find time to do homework.
 
 
Current Mood: pleasedProud.
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