This morning was hard, saying goodbye to Shannon. It’s very quiet here without him or Ari crashing around, but it means I can do some serious cleaning and listen to the radio as loud as I want to.
I won’t make this any longer than necessary: there’s no cream here for coffee and I have to remedy that before a migraine sets in.
Anyway, on the hand front. My hand is healed. Seriously. I went to see the plastic surgeon on Friday who said it looked fine to him and to exercise it to make sure the scar tissue stretches out properly. He said I could leave without bandages but that made me too nervous, I was going onto TTC and the movie theatre, and didn’t want to risk the cooties. Not to mention it still looks pretty awful and it’s easier when it’s bandaged to avoid horrified glances.
So all it took was a week. I find it amazing, honestly. The skin is tender still, I don’t like fabric rubbing on it-or hot water, but over all, not a problem at all and I haven’t even had one pain killer since Friday morning. Funny how those first few very dark days…I really wondered if my hand was screwed forever.
It doesn’t even look that red irl.
You can see where it’s tight.
That’s it! Hopefully no more hand blogging from now on.