Stitches...a pain that heals

June 9th,  I went into the dermatology office to get some moles removed and a cyst/nodule thing removed from my neck.  I was kind of nervous, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal.  After two minutes of being in the office, I was screaming just from the stupid local anesthetic.  An hour later I left with an inch of stitches on my neck right where the collar of a shirt is located, and stitches on my waist right under the belt line.


Pictures were taken June 18th , it looked MUCH worse than it did here.

 

A close-up of the neck

I have had a lot of different pains and annoyance's in my life, but these ones were SOO frustrating.  What didn't hurt before was causing me so much irritation and pain.  At first, sharp pains would shoot up and down my neck (I think a nerve ending was hit or something).  Sleeping was frustrating because a touch of either area hurt and so it took forever finding a comfortable way to sleep.  Sean was a gem and bandaged my neck, but the bandage welted my skin and caused a layer of redness and breakdown.  So for the last two weeks we've been lotioning the skin breakdown and neosporin'ing the wound.  For thirteen days I have been frustrated and annoyed by an inch of irritated, infected, sewn skin.

I feel a little ridiculous for complaining about such a trivial matter.

For the last week I've been wanting to blog about this new added beauty in my life, however I didn't because every time I did I thought of someone who has it worse than me.  For example, Stephanie Nielson. 
http://lds.org/media-library/video/mormon-messages?lang=eng&query=stephanie+nielson#2010-05-10-my-new-life
      A woman who probably experiences the worst pain in the world due to her skin.  Yet look how she has triumphed!

Getting on with the story, I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep (like I do every night) and I couldn't.  Even after 12 hours of work, making dinner, and watching a show with Sean, I still could not fall asleep.  Naturally, I logged into facebook and read all the updates about "dad's."  A sledge hammer hit my heart.

It is the one day of the year that reminds me I don't have a dad. 

Every single year in the past 11 years I have absolutely hated Father's day.  I felt the pain in my heart and tossed in bed.  There it was again, those darn stitches yelling at me, "Owe!!! Get off!" 

The death of my father was a large "stitch" in my life.  It was a part of Heavenly Father's plan to lead to a greater healing.  The healing of my family.  This sentence is loaded.  You'd have to understand my family dynamics to fully comprehend the meaning of this statement.  My father died so that my family could heal.  The pain from his death was unbearable.  For the last 11 years, Father's day was just salt in a wound.  And though I miss him nearly every day of every year, I know that losing him provided a greater gain.

Maybe next year I will be glad it is father's day.  I do have a father.  And he is wonderful.

And I know Tara and Andrea wanted pics of my glasses.  I have one...



This is a pic taken on my birthday, June 5th.  Our family is together and healed.  :D



 Stitches came out today and sure enough, a large puffy infection.  I get to go on antibiotics for the next couple days!  But I know I'm on the road to healing and all is well. 

I can see clearly now with glasses on...

The last month has been eventful.  After Sean had teased and taunted me about my poor vision, I decided I'd go get an eye exam to prove him wrong.  As we were waiting, a salesperson said, "are you interested in glasses or contacts today?" 
I promptly replied, "neither.  I'm just getting my eyes checked." 

After several annoying procedures, they sent me in to see the optometrist.  I sat down in a funky looking chair with a weird contraption set in front of my  face.  Fifteen feet in front of me was letters projected on the wall.  Looking through the handy contraption, the doctor kept asking me which slides were blurry or clear.  After he was finished he said, "ok, read the letters on the wall."

Showing off, I zipped through every single letter thinking, "C'mon, my eyes are perfect.  I can see just fine."  Then the doctor pulled the contraption away from my face and asked me to read the letters again.  My jaw dropped.  I literally could barely report the first line.  Again, the contraption was set in front of my face and I could see perfectly. 

I asked with a disappointed voice, "does this mean I need glasses?"  The optometrist laughed and said, "only if you want to see the leaves on the trees, faces on people, and be safe when you are driving."
So I picked out my first pair of glasses...and these are the ones I chose.

During the last month I have thoroughly enjoyed seeing everything pristine and clear.  I can recognize faces.  I can read signs.  And the world is beautiful.  It has given me two things I continue to think about. 

1) It is amazing how so often we believe we can already see "perfectly" when in reality things are skewed and blurry. It is a reminder to me that I need constant correction.  And when revision is made, life increases in beauty. 

2) I have thought mostly about my nephew, Kody.  We learned last month that our three-month-year-old miracle is blind.  He has a rare condition called Leber's congenital amaurosis (LCA).  His optic nerves do not function.  No surgery or glasses will ever help him see.  Each time I hold him I feel a strong sense of gratitude that I have the ability to see.  I am so grateful that I have functioning eyes to see and ears to hear. 

However, even without eyes to see, blind people can still do extraordinary things.  More extraordinary then people with perfect vision.

I love the story of Erik Weihenmayer.  He is a man who went blind at the age of 13, but chose to triumph in his loss.  Today, he is one of only 100 to climb the seven tallest peaks in the world including Mt. Everest.  1 in 10 people who attempt to climb Mt. Everest die.  If you can imagine, Mt. Everest reaches nearly five and a half miles (8.85 km) into the sky.  Temperatures can get as low as -76 degrees Fahrenheit.  And the oxygen levels are 1/3 of what we breathe.  Studies have shown that blood oxygen saturations decrease down to 84% at base camp (and that is just the beginning).  Once a climber reaches the last leg to the summit, they will breathe over 90 breaths per minute to survive (normal respirations are 12-20 breaths per minute).  And yet with all these facts, a man who could only see hope, reached the top.

"We all have a lot of goals out here, ambitious goals that keep us busy. But in my life there's been something more important than a goal, what I call a vision." -Erik Weihenmayer

I am amazed at how much a blind man can see.

 

(I think my blog posts turn out to always explain a type of epiphany that I've had.  So I'm sorry if I bore you readers or make you feel like you are receiving a lecture.)