It has been almost two months since I have written a note in my blog. Why? Because in the beginning of December I was attacked and injured. My daughter was with me at the time, and I am very grateful that she did not get hurt - at least, not physically. But my hands were cut and "out of commission" until now. Today is the first day I officially took off my splints - and here I am, back, writing again in my blog page.
At the hospital I had to get stitches. The doctor used blue color thread; he poked my fingers with different types of needles; he used one thread at a time, continuous, stitching on my skin as if I was a piece of fabric, and he had to prevent it from fraying. He even made knots at the end of each thread, so it would not come loose. When he was done, I looked at my hands... my friend told me that I looked like The Corpse Bride. I felt like an old ripped blanket.
Several weeks later, it was time to remove the stitches - or "stitchery," as the therapist referred to them (what is it, new type of needlework?). The therapist said she "has never seen this type of work" (he must have been a rare craftsman), cut the first knot she found and attempted to yank the whole thread out of my finger.
Now, they told me that due to nerve damage my fingers lost some sensitivity to them. But at that moment I realized they did not lose THAT much sensitivity. I jumped out of the chair and yelped out loud.
I mean, sometimes I tried to do the same thing with my needlework to save time - just cut the knot and pull the thread out of another end. But experience has taught me that in these cases, more often than not, the fabric would wrinkle and start fraying and falling apart. Of course, I never thought of how the fabric would actually feel during that process. The fabric she was working on - my skin - also got wrinkled, but it also had nerve endings in it... Several drops of blood came out, and I pulled my hand back.
This is where my paying attention during the original process with the doctor came in handy. I happened to remember how he stitched me up, and ended up guiding her through "un-doing" some of the "stitchery" of the surgeon with the least damage to my hands. The stitches that did stay I was able to find and remove later at home - believe it or not, with a sterilized embroidery needle... what an unexpected way to benefit from stitching experience.
In the end - I am back! my splints are off, I can use my hands - reasonably, of course, without overworking - but... I can stitch again, I can write again, and I am looking forward to both.
Kathy, I would LOVE to join your Celtic Lady SAL group - I want to talk to other people about stitching and share ideas. Thank you for contacting me.
I do not know when I will be able to find the right words to describe what happened that day to me and to my daughter. It will probably take quite some time, but I know it will happen. Just have to wait and work - on my stitching, on my words - one stitch in time, one word in time, that is all it takes.
