Three weeks ago my baby boy had a minor, outpatient surgery to fix a hernia in his groin and allow his left testicle to drop into place. It went very well, despite my fears about the general anesthesia. The incision was just above his left hip, and the stitches were actually made underneath the skin, so all he had was a few thin strips of tape over a developing scar that will be quite small once he is full grown.
But then yesterday the stitches (which the doc said we would never see because they are dissolving stitches), began poking through the skin of his abdomen. The site thankfully doesn’t look infected, but I wanted to check in with the doctor just to be safe. Here’s how it went down.
Me: “I’m concerned that the stitches that are supposed to dissolve are pushing through his skin.”
Nurse: “No, they won’t do that, they’re dissolving stitches.”
Me: “But they are, I can see them.”
Nurse: “But they won’t.”
Me: “Okay. Let’s pretend for a minute that my son’s ‘disolving stitches’ ARE in fact pushing through his skin. Should I be worried?”
Nurse: “I’ll have to call you back.”
So now I’m waiting to hear. While I’m waiting, I am beating my head against the opening paragraph of the feature article that’s due next week. It sucks. I can’t seem to find an in to the story. It’s making me crazy and I really want it to be good. I almost hope the doctor does need to see my boy so I have an excuse to avoid working on the article a little longer, but then again, no. What I really want to have happen is that the next time I change his diaper the stiches have amgically dissolved like they’re supposed to. Then I come back upstairs to my lap top and find the intro to my piece has written itself, and it’s stunning.
Is that so much to ask?
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