Aneeda72
Well-known Member
So today’s doctor appointment is in person and close up. You will get your temperature checked, yup, and have to wear a mask, yup; see you Friday, yup. The big day is here. I don’t want to go. Sigh. The doctor is downtown, which usually means lunch out, not today. No restaurants. No yummy treats. Why bother? Ugh.
But I go, she wants to check the skin tear. Skin tears are “acute, traumatic injuries”. But they are not tears, not really. They should be called skin rips, as your skin suddenly rips away from your body and you are left with a bloody mess of managed flesh to deal with; it is somewhat painful to say the least. Takes forever to heal.
Skin tears comes in all sizes. The largest I’ve had was the size of a 50 cents piece, this one is the size of a folded dollar bill. I went to the ER for it. I tripped and hit the side of the door. 15 years ago I wouldn’t even have gotten a bruise. The skin ripped back and on the way down the flap folded under itself. It has to be unfolded and placed over the open wound.
I already know the flap will die. Anytime there is a fold, the blood supply is cut off, the flap dies. It will take weeks to heal. There will be a large scar to go along with all the other scars on my forearms. The red dots and small bruises from blood cancer, the scars from the skin tears, wrinkled old skin, the aging process is not kind.
I get to the clinic, pass the temp check, get a green stickie for my shirt which, says, temp check, and proceed to wait for my appointment. It’s hot, they are not running the air. Nurse gets me, she has a mask on, I have a mask on, she also has a plastic shield on as if I will bleed out any second into her face. Wouldn’t that be fun. Lol. Sigh. Overkill.
She does the usual, doc will be in soon, I wait, doc comes in, mask, shield, the whole works. How are you? she asks. Are you depressed? Hmm. Let me think.
Over 75000 have died, and are still dying. The daily count with my morning tea and toast. The virus is doing fine, the rest of us, not so much. Most everything is shut down, no where to go, nothing to do. One son has been in lockdown, the other son may need open heart surgery again, my third son is restricted to his house, husband working from home (oh joy); all my savings spent on this crappy house, and I have a huge skin tear. Have not seen the granddaughter or great grandchildren in a while. Guess they are fine.
Am I depressed?
Nope, I reply, I’m great. (Why wouldn’t I be?).
Take the bandage off. I do. That’s a large skin tear, yup. Does it hurt? (Seriously?). Yup. You are going to lose the skin. Yup. It will take weeks to heal. (You think?). Yup. Keep it covered. Yup. I went to the ER for it. Should I have waited and gone to the instant care, I ask. Nope, she replies.
She checks my legs. Yup, they are swollen. Yup, I’ve lost weight. Says I look better than she thought I’d look. (What does that mean?). Then her face shield falls off, knocks her glasses off onto the floor, and her mask falls down. I look at her, straight faced. Laughing on the inside. I hate this shit she says.
. And redressed.
I wore an N95 mask to grocery shop, she says. Thought I’d die. I’ll order the blood tests. You go to this clinic, drive up in your car, they will be outside, you get a number, and when your number comes up, they come to your car and take your blood. Go in three weeks. Don’t forget.
Ok. Make a new appointment. Leave. Wish I hadn’t gone.
But I go, she wants to check the skin tear. Skin tears are “acute, traumatic injuries”. But they are not tears, not really. They should be called skin rips, as your skin suddenly rips away from your body and you are left with a bloody mess of managed flesh to deal with; it is somewhat painful to say the least. Takes forever to heal.
Skin tears comes in all sizes. The largest I’ve had was the size of a 50 cents piece, this one is the size of a folded dollar bill. I went to the ER for it. I tripped and hit the side of the door. 15 years ago I wouldn’t even have gotten a bruise. The skin ripped back and on the way down the flap folded under itself. It has to be unfolded and placed over the open wound.
I already know the flap will die. Anytime there is a fold, the blood supply is cut off, the flap dies. It will take weeks to heal. There will be a large scar to go along with all the other scars on my forearms. The red dots and small bruises from blood cancer, the scars from the skin tears, wrinkled old skin, the aging process is not kind.
I get to the clinic, pass the temp check, get a green stickie for my shirt which, says, temp check, and proceed to wait for my appointment. It’s hot, they are not running the air. Nurse gets me, she has a mask on, I have a mask on, she also has a plastic shield on as if I will bleed out any second into her face. Wouldn’t that be fun. Lol. Sigh. Overkill.
She does the usual, doc will be in soon, I wait, doc comes in, mask, shield, the whole works. How are you? she asks. Are you depressed? Hmm. Let me think.
Over 75000 have died, and are still dying. The daily count with my morning tea and toast. The virus is doing fine, the rest of us, not so much. Most everything is shut down, no where to go, nothing to do. One son has been in lockdown, the other son may need open heart surgery again, my third son is restricted to his house, husband working from home (oh joy); all my savings spent on this crappy house, and I have a huge skin tear. Have not seen the granddaughter or great grandchildren in a while. Guess they are fine.
Am I depressed?
Nope, I reply, I’m great. (Why wouldn’t I be?).
Take the bandage off. I do. That’s a large skin tear, yup. Does it hurt? (Seriously?). Yup. You are going to lose the skin. Yup. It will take weeks to heal. (You think?). Yup. Keep it covered. Yup. I went to the ER for it. Should I have waited and gone to the instant care, I ask. Nope, she replies.
She checks my legs. Yup, they are swollen. Yup, I’ve lost weight. Says I look better than she thought I’d look. (What does that mean?). Then her face shield falls off, knocks her glasses off onto the floor, and her mask falls down. I look at her, straight faced. Laughing on the inside. I hate this shit she says.
. And redressed.I wore an N95 mask to grocery shop, she says. Thought I’d die. I’ll order the blood tests. You go to this clinic, drive up in your car, they will be outside, you get a number, and when your number comes up, they come to your car and take your blood. Go in three weeks. Don’t forget.
Ok. Make a new appointment. Leave. Wish I hadn’t gone.
