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.