There is a crack in my bedroom ceiling, right above my side of the bed. I've been aware of its existance since the first surgery on my leg in 08. You notice new things when forced to sit, sleep, and lay in a position you aren't normally in. Namely, on my back with my left leg elevated. Yes, smartass, I normally have them both elevated har har, shutup.
So, I noticed today, trapped in this damn position after a second surgery, that the crack has not changed one little bit since 08. Same length, same width, same dips and wiggles in all the same spots. Same crack, same damn leg, same bed, same boredom, same pain, same daunting task.
I started using the crack for purposes of distraction in 08 when I didn't have a friend to loan me a laptop. No iPod back then either. Nothing much to distract me but a pile of books and magazines. Turns out, even I can only read so much with my brain soaked in pain killers. So I turned to my ceiling to distract me. Maybe it was some kind of fucked up meditation on my part, I don't know, but it was me and the ceiling crack for months. I wonder if it missed me when the wound healed and I no loner needed it's distraction? Either way, I'm back to being needy again. Even this laptop isn't doing much distracting from what comes next.
The wound on my leg is about the size of a softball and it is about 4 inches above my left ankle. I could probably lay my fist in it, but I think I'll choose not to for now. Necrotic tissue. I'm pretty sure I've read that term in stories that I've enjoyed. It never occoured to me that I would end up staring at my ceiling after a second attempt to remove all of it from my leg.
I stare while I wait 20 minutes after swallowing my newest dose of pain meds. Cute, sexy little nurse Loni told me 20 minutes should give the pills time to kick in, but not so much that I was too drowsy. Well, that's my version of what she said, I was admitedly paying more attention to her nipples under her shirt than the precise reason for the 20 minutes.
So, I'm 11 minutes in, in about 9 minutes here's how it's gonna go. I'll take of the ace and cut off the gauze holding the wet to dry in place. Wet to dry. It's a great technique, you apply the bandage wet and as it dries it latches on to scabs forming over the wound and when you remove the dry bandage, the scabbed over tissue comes with it. FANTASTIC! It feels just about how you'd imagine it would if you are imagining ripping a very sticky bandage off of freshly sunburned skin.
So, I'll slowly take out the old bandage while trying to think happy thoughts and trying to ignore that "being skinned alive" feeling. Yeah ok, so I'm elaborating just a touch, I'm pretty sure being skinned alive would hurt worse. I'm not so drugged that I'm going to give it a go, though. So, the old comes out and I will admit that I'm completely fascinated by the plazma rushing to the surface. The watery, clear liquid mixing with the traces of blood, swirling and combining, running around the little bumps and divots that comprise whatever layer of tissue I happen to be looking at. Think large curd cottage cheese mixed with dijon mustard and drizzled in strawberry sauce. With dried blood thrown in for texture.
Next come the sterile tweezers to pluck out any scabbed tissue the bandage missed. The snag and sharp little pain as the raw area gives up it's grip on the dried crap is followed by a hot rush of new blood that trickles around with all the aforementioned plazma. I'm fascinated and repulsed all rolled in to one. Kind of like that story Brian wrote about the green, gritty pus tasting crazy man. Oh fantastic, now I'll be thinking about THAT while I try to ignore the cold sweat all this self abuse causes.
Ok, now that last bit of pain before I rebandage this bitch. The toothbrush. Did anyone cringe? I cringe when I look at it. A little orange toddler's toothbrush covered in dial soap, gotta keep everything clean. I'm telling you some sick, twisted sadist came up with this regimine. I can't really explain what it feels like to scrub raw tissue with a soap covered tothbrush. Well, maybe I could but I've probably whined enough for one day. Besides, my 20 minutes are up and my little wound kit is waiting.
So, what are you folks doing today?
rating: 10
Users that liked this also liked...
 Absent Friend |  Summer Sorrow |  Where Angels Sleep |  Paradise |  pHpH: R3 the Final - 'The Music Ends At Midnight' |