Removing my stitches

Four stitches. The nurse took out the steel scissors from her blue uniform as she effortlessly removed my stitches. Click. Click. Click. Click. Four blue corse nylon lines plopped on the plastic tray. I didn’t dare look at my wound, just felt relived it’s now gone. “Your wound has healed well,” the nurse was satisfied. She advised me to take care of my wound for the next few days.

I walked out of the hospital feeling a ton lighter. After almost half a year of carrying a cathether on my chest, I am glad it’s now finally gone.

Groggy from heavy medications, I remembered waking up under the glaring spotlight of the sterile operating theatre room with a catheter near my right chest. “It’s done. You’ll be able to use this for up to two years,” the doctor in the green gown said. Three nurses came, dropped me into a bed and pushed me out of the room to my ward.

I’ve been on operating table recently to insert a tube on my stomach. Since I was diagnosed with ‘’kidney failure”, I’ll have to be on peritoneal dialysis. At least I don’t have to go to the hospital and can have the dialysis at home. Still the operation to insert the tube was an excruciating experience — 1 Oct, 2018.