I’ve been digging through my archives. Today I’m having surgery, and ever since Cricket was born, I think of this picture when I have surgery:
I don’t do needles, you see. And the nurse I had when Cricket was born was less than gentle with the IV needle. This is Seymour’s hand five minutes after the nurse got done inserting the IV line in my left hand. That imprint there? That’s my right hand.
Seymour: When did you suddenly get strength in your hand?!
Me: About the time they stuck a needle in my other one!
I was telling the lab nurses this story last week at my pre-op appointment because I had to distract myself somehow. They were all very nice nurses, but it took three of them to find my veins and get the necessary blood samples, and now I have two lovely bruises on my forearms.
But now I’m going to go. I’ve got things to dream, see, so I’ll see you back here sometime over the weekend. Have a great Thursday!
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