June 30, 2010

You scratch my back, I'll....be your slave for life.

If you peek in my windows and find me writhing on the living room floor, please do not dial 911 and demand an ambulance and an exorcist. I'm just trying to scratch my back.

Those five stitches I told you about are centered in that spot in the middle of my back that I cannot reach no matter how hard I try (so say the peas from Veggie Tales). And boy, oh boy do they itch!! In reality, I shouldn't scratch near them anyway because I might accidentally snag one and then....ouch, I don't even want to think about that.

I called Doc's office today because, in the midst of all the Novocaine, cutting, stitching, and bandaging, I forgot to ask a few questions....like, what was that you just cut off my back? and when do you think you'll get the results back from the lab? and can I bathe soon?

Luckily, Doc filled in a few blanks like "When I know what that was, I'll call and let you know what it was" and the nurse told me to wait to shower until the next day...but I still didn't think to ask about the time line. Late this week, early next.

Now to see if I can hook a few pipe cleaners together & use them to scratch around my incision.

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