When the nurse took the stitches out, she was shocked that it was still open. She asked if I’m diabetic.1 I told her no. I know that diabetes can cause slow healing wounds, so I understood why she asked the question. I had a feeling that it was probably the hypermobility/EDS rearing its ugly head. Slow healing and bad scars are all a part of the joyous issue that is literally a pain in my ass.2
She told me that she couldn’t leave the stitches in forever, so she was going to give me some Steri-Strips to wear until it heals. She gave me about 10 of them, so I hope it begins healing before I get to that 10th one. I know that they can be bought at the store. If I still need them by then, we’ll get them at the store, but it kinda sucks that special first aid stuff has to be bought because my body can’t figure out how to heal properly. And, since life is not like a video game, I can’t teach my body to heal. If I could, I would definitely level up on that until stuff like this quit happening.
After I got home, I ended up showing my mom the still-open wound. I had tried to explain to her what it looked like, but I knew that unless she actually looked at it that she might not fully grasp what I was saying. I also knew that the grossness was something she could handle.3 Mom said the scar will be nasty & she’s probably right about that. The nurse recommended that I use Vitamin E on it, so when dad when to the pharmacy, he got me some. Hopefully that will help.
I’m not really freaked out by the possibility that the scar will be huge. It’s on the palm of my hand, at the base of my thumb. That isn’t really a place where most people look really closely. And lessening the appearance of one rather small scar, while leaving visible larger ones and the multitude of stretch marks4 that I have is just not that much of a priority for me. I would really rather be rid of those more. If I’m going to focus on body flaws, a scar under my thumb really is the least of my worries.