*warning - this post may cause cringing and general feelings of ick to readers*
Well, I guess I have been fully initiated into being a stained glass artisan. I got my first stitches today from an accident during glass cutting.
Heh, I debated showing a picture of my embroidered knuckle - but decided there's enough ooky stuff on the web without my adding to it. Besides, it's only two little stitches (I know, 17 would have sounded cooler, eh?), so it looks more like a little splatted bug than a wound. The doctor, who was especially nifty, said she only wanted to stitch it because it was right on my knuckle and would be smarter to keep it stitched shut. That, and you could see the actual joint!
I actually feel kind of alright about it - not too much pain so far (just when the anesthetic was administered via FOUR shots - two between my fingers). I wonder if my work will change any. I wonder if my consciousness of safety will be enhanced. I wonder if it will be a noticeable scar.
I wonder if there's something dysfuntional about me that makes me feel slightly inadequate, as if two stitches are somehow not good/bad enough to be Noteworthy. Hrmmm.