The power of thought.
Remember my fat lip blog?
Today, a week later, it was time for the stitches to come out. Hadn’t worried
too much throughout the week, but conscious that “today was the day”.
Upon arrival the
nurse-receptionist (who is very bubbly and always smiling – a great thing for a
doctor’s office) installed me in one of the rooms, telling me straight away
that the doctor was running a bit behind.
I was apprehensive about the
stitches coming out as my lip had really hurt after surgery, to which she replied
that she was the one who was going to “torture” me. Not as painful as I thought
(but no, I would prefer not to have a repeat anytime within my memory).
Then I was left to relax on
the narrow examining table: closed my eyes, had my lovely warm blanket, and
with the bright light shining through my eyelids I transported myself to
Copacabana. All that was lacking was the music.
The doctor’s arrival broke
the dream, but I’ll vacation on as the lip-lump was not cancerous: the chest
mini-mole was dysplasic so return next year. Meanwhile Champagne anyone – I’m
off to my beach – at least in spirit.
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