About two months ago, I wrote about plans to have something excised by a surgeon. The day came this past Thursday. I got to the hospital a bit before noon. It was busier than expected. The smell of the place was distinctly sterile (does that make sense?)

I waited around for an hour before I was called into one of the operating rooms. I was half expecting to have to disrobe and put on one ‘em silly robes that are open in the back, but luckily I was able to keep my dignity. The nurse had me lie on the table with my right wrist resting on a cart. She turned on a bright light, focusing on the area of interest. She left the room saying that the doctor would come in shortly in order to freeze the area.

I lay there staring at my wrist for a minute or two. The light was quite bright from my vantage point. I wondered what kind of view the surgeon had. I was thinking that it was really cool to actually be able to see the doctor do his work. I was excited. I was also trying to come up with some sort of small-talk I could use on the nurse. I was genuinely excited, and I wanted all those involved to know. Thing is, when the doctor came in, I sort of blanked out.

I greeted the doctor, and made a feeble attempt at conversation: “You look so busy!” Well, duh. The doctor just looked at me with a bored look and got on with the freezing. Whatever. It was pretty quick and painless. He left the room for a few minutes, letting it all take effect. I used my left hand to poke and prod the area. Yup. Twas quite numb. Good thing.

So, minutes later, the nurse and doctor came back in. He began the procedure. He poured some cold antiseptic solution on the area. Even with the numbing, I could feel the cold sensation over the area. Trying to amuse myself, I announced “it’s cold!” The nurse told me that it was normal to feel that, but that I wouldn’t feel any pain. You know, even with all the excitement, I basically chickened out and didn’t stare at it procedure. It was all happening so quickly. I didn’t feel the pain of the slicing, but did feel the pressure of the scalpel (if that makes sense).

After some short work, I saw the nurse hover over the cart. She picked up the piece that was removed, dropped it in a small container, and packed it up for analysis. I was sort of surprised at seeing it and exclaimed “Wow! That was fast!” The doctor stitched things up pretty quickly. Again, I didn’t feel any pain, but I did feel the sensation of the needle piercing my skin, and the thread going through. To be honest, it reminded me of someone stitching the back end of a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey. When it was all done, the nurse put only a bandaid over the stitches, and basically sent me off. The doc just scrambled out of the room without saying a word. I wondered if I had said something to offend him, or whether his bedside manner was just shit. This time though, I kept those thoughts to myself.

So that’s what happened on Thursday. I’m keeping an eye on it daily, and heaping Polysporin on it in hopes of faster healing. The stitches are expected to dissolve in about two weeks or so. Right now it feels a tad sore, and I’m afraid of somehow ripping the stitches and reopening the wound. I wanted to take pictures a few days ago, but decided against it. Aren’t y’all lucky? Heh.