Inspired by Joe’s Sunday night entry, in which he suggests that he has just received his first set of stitches, I thought a review of my own self-inflicted injury might be fun. Okay, so it’s just something to talk about.
But really, I’ve had many sets of stitches, all of them special in their own right. During my last trip to outpatients (last fall) my doctor took the opportunity to tease me for the number of times they have sewn my skin together because he has never had the pleasure of stitches. I think he’s the one missing out.
So here they are (in no particular order):
1. Stitches over an inch long from between index and middle finger to about the middle of the palm: 6 or 7 years old running in a basement where the mopboards had been removed (but not the nails). In true 6-year-old form I tripped and fell… and yes, right on the nail. That’s probably the most impressive one.
2. 1/2-inch long stitches on index finger. This one was due to my sweet little sister who decided that the car door needed to be closed even if my finger was still in it. Oh yeah? Well take this …. ahhh, revenge is sweet! 
3. Stitches directly next to my left eye (yes, I’m lucky). This was the time I decided to ride my grandparents’ dog like a horse and …. er… well, it quickly became obvious that he didn’t like that.
4. Cutting floor tile for the mosaic mirror in our bathroom… deepest cut yet: I could see parts of me that shouldn’t be seen from the outside. This one is about 3/4 ” long on my left hand. I’m lucky I didn’t hit anything that would affect the workings of my thumb because, believe it or not, thumbs are important to a piano player!
5. Small scar on the right hand knuckle below my index finger. This one I got washing dishes; I had my whole hand in a glass when it broke around my hand. Yeah… and you think it can’t happen to you! I still don’t think the doctor believed my “washing dishes” story. This is also the time I had some doctor-in-training put the stitches in but you know, of all of them, this scar has almost completely disappeared so she was doing something right.
Then there is always the mystery scar on my left wrist. I don’t remember it and Mom doesn’t remember it but it sure looks like a scar from stitches.
If chicks dig scars, maybe I should switch teams. Do guys dig scars too?
