To start with, it appears that the top of the foot is skin and well, nerves. No fat, no muscle to cushion, to absorb the pull of the thread. I am happily perched on the cold, paper-covered table, my foot propped up, sock removed. The nurse comes in and readies her suture removal kit. I am happy to see it. These darn stitches have been itching more and more every day. She slips on some purple gloves, opens the kit and takes out little scissors. I look for some sort of tool, anything that might be an ingenious way to get the three tiny knots out from their cozy burrow down the length of my foot. There is nothing but the aforementioned scissors, and a pair of turbo tweezers. Uh-oh. I feel a flash of queasiness, but chat with the nurse anyway. She starts to tug on the first knot, closest to me, causing a small stab of pain. Her brow furrows as she says, "Hmm, this one appears to be pretty well in there." Uh-oh. She tugs harder. I see my skin go with her tweezers, higher than the bone spur ever made that skin go. Yikes. She tugs harder still. The skin goes right with that darn thread, unsure if it ever wants to let go of that which has held it together for two weeks. I, feeling a bit concerned, pick up my book, a book for kids written diary style, about a girl who lived in Valley Forge. "January 6, 1778" I read ever so carefully, trying to ignore the tug-of-war descending upon my left foot. "It is bitterly cold, and little Johnny---" YOW! What was that? Apparently, she has given up on the first one and moved to the second one. The only upside being that this one comes out after only two or three tugs and a quick little snip of the scissors. She might as well be sliding nerves out of my skin as thread feels no better. Phew, one down, only two to go. She checks out the third knot, closest to my big toe. "This one is going to hurt, it's almost covered by skin," she says calmly. Oh, I guess the others weren't supposed to be a big deal. I might be in trouble here. I read on, outwardly nonchalant but gritting my teeth and saying an indecipherable prayer that I might be on my way soon. Really, really soon. The next tug darn near gets me off the table. At this point, I am thinking the thread might as well stay. They've been there long enough, they are pretty much a part of me. Like a nail in a tree, I have grown around the foreign object, taking it in as if it's family. I guess I should have mentioned it to the nurse, that I didn't mind if we just left it there. I would never tell, really I wouldn't! She ignores my silent pleas, and pulls my skin to the left as far as it will go without tearing (though I was just waiting for that to happen) and snips, part skin, part thread. "Sorry, but we have to get that out, you doing okay?" Oh, me? Oh yes, I am just ducky. I grit my teeth and said, "Yup, just get it out." Strangely, the final (and first) knot feels little compared to what I just had done. Ah, it's over. I am anxious to get that sock back on so she can do no more damage. I make sure the gauze pad isn't soaking up more than a tad of blood, slide my sock on, hop down, grabbing my book as I go. I am almost out the door already when she says, "Did they give you your check-out papers?" Foot throbbing, I am caught. I wait a couple minutes for the papers and hightail it out of there. Standing at the check-out desk, the lady says to me, "Was your visit satisfactory today?" Oh my, um, yes, oh Lord get me out here, I respond, "Everything was fine." "Would you like to take a brief survey on our patient care today?" Hmm, somehow I don't think I can be fair and impartial right now. "Oh, maybe next time," I say breezily. Good thing my next appointment isn't for four weeks, that should be enough time to forget the torture that has been inflicted on me.
I think it looks pretty good now, but man those little holes were not fun.
This is the funniest stitch-removing blog post I've ever read. Also the Only one I've ever read, but still pretty funny. Reminds me of when I was getting my ear worked on and I could hear (but not feel) the snip of scissors and tearing of skin. I was trying not to shake with laughter at the same time I was trying not to throw up from all those nasty unpleasant sounds! Glad they're out, though.
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