Finally, I went to the hand surgeon. All week I’d been having night-(and day!)-mares about my hand. What if I needed surgery? What if I was doomed to have a dysfunctional opposable thumb for life? Would my human-ness be altered or compromised if that happened? I mean, opposable thumbs are one of our species’ chief characteristics.
Thankfully, though, I am A-OK, literally and figuratively (according to Wikipedia, “A-OK” is “both a saying and a hand-gesture done by connecting the thumb and forefinger into a circle” and I can do that now that my bandage and splint are gone).
I sat for a really long time in the waiting room. Why do doctors ask you to come in 15 minutes before your appointment if you won’t be taken care of at least 30 minutes after your scheduled time? Does it really take that long to fill out an insurance form? I hate waiting rooms. This one’s thermostat was cranked up to 150˚F. I was like a Hot Pocket inside my sweater. Yuck. And if that wasn’t enough, the lady sitting next to me was chewing gum – ruminating and popping. My mother, bless her soul, didn’t allow me to chew gum and every day I thank her for it. It is just awful to see people’s jaws working like bovines’.
When, at last, I got to see the doctor, I was rewarded for my sufferings: The stitches were removed and The Wound is going to finish healing, bandage-free, in the next few days. Luckily, there is no tendon or nerve damage, so if ever I should find myself on the side of the road in need of a ride, I will have two healthy appendages with which to signal.
The cut is not as clean as my title proclaims, however. The skin isn’t completely healed over and is in fact a bit open. I was a bit perturbed about it, but not so much now because I have other things to worry about. Here are some pictures. I hope you don’t think that I should go back to worrying.
Ta-ta for now.
