Essay #1

Donald King                                                                                                                             King 1

Croker

T /Th 11:30

September 7, 2012

My First Stitches

            It all started when I was twelve years old.  I loved to play sports, ride bikes, skateboards, roller blades, etc. It started off as a regular day, I went over to my friends house to see if my friend David was home.  He was, so we he decided that we should go ride our skateboards.  A couple of hours go by and David's parents drive up saying for David to get in the car so they can go out to eat.  Since I'm alone now, I decided to go home.  This is where it happens. As I'm headed home, the wheel of my skateboard hits the a rock and my skateboard comes to a complete stop.  Wish I could say the same for me.  I go hurling through the air and it felt as if time has slowed down. I remember thinking, "This is going to hurt!".  I try to put my hands out to soften the fall.  To no success, I land directly on my chin. As I stood up, I recall the shock of horror.  My eyes widen and my mouth drop as I press up with my palm, there is a bloody hole.  My chin had been split open.  It stung as bad as if someone had squeezed a lemon on a paper cut.  I remember crying the whole walk home.  This was the first time I've gotten this badly hurt.  I was scared to death. Was I going to get in trouble?  How could I show this to my mom?

            I remember my mom's face as I walked through the door.  It was as if she had seen a ghost.  My hand was over my chin and it was almost completely red with blood.  She

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immediately asked me what had happened and if I was ok.  I didn't get much time to respond as she dashed towards the kitchen to grab a towel.  She told me to hold it up against my chin and that we were going to the Emergency room at the hospital.   By now, I had stopped crying and my mother and I got into the car and headed to the hospital.  That car ride was very quiet.  I could see the look of panic on my mother's face.  I just sat there, deep in thought.  This was my first time going to the doctors for a wound.  I was scared.  I asked my mom, how were they going to fix my chin.  She told me that I was probably going to need stitches.  She also told me that there was two types of stitching.  There was regular stitching where it's a pin needle and a string, and Butterfly stitching, where it's a strong band-aid in an "X" pattern.  I didn't want a pin needle going through my flesh to sew it back.  I pleaded to get the butterfly stitching.  My mother told me it was possible to get the Butterfly stitching, but I think now, she was just saying that to set me at ease.

            We arrive at the hospital and head for the emergency room.  I remember just sitting there, still unaware as how this whole ordeal is going to go down.  I just sat there holding my towel up against my chin.  It wasn't much people in the waiting room, but then again, the emergency room was to get people in as soon as possible.  It was very quiet in there.  Then suddenly the silence was shattered by "Donald King?".  My mother and I then walked behind the nurse as she showed us to our room.  It didn't take long for the doctor to see the problem and the say "Yup, you're going to need  stitches.".  My mom asked the doctor if Butterfly stitches was an option, but he said that the wound was too deep for the butterfly stitching.  The  

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doctor then escorted us to a different room where I was instructed to lie down on a table.  Thus the procedure began.  He began to wiping my chin with a disinfectant.  Then he said to close my eyes and to count to ten. I don't think I even got to three, and I was out like a light.

            When I woke up the doctor said " All done!".  I remember waking up feeling confused. But he had shown me a mirror, and I saw the result of this doctors professionalism.  My chin was almost back to normal, but I had a blue string, or wire, zigzagging through my flesh. I got 8 stitches .My chin was a little sore, but all around better. The doctor has told us that I would need to take pain relievers  for the next month and that we would come back for the removal.  My mom told me that I was going to have a scar when they came out.  When we got home my brothers asked if I was ok, their eyes locked on stitching.  I told them all what happened, and that it was not the greatest experience.

            This whole experience has taught me that your body is fragile, and it's important to wear protective gear when engaging in outdoor activities.  It has taught me to be extremely careful.  I see my scar as just a life story, and it's important to have a life story because that's what separates people and makes like interesting.  But if anything, getting this wound has introduced me to my hobby today. I spent my time recovering indoors playing video games.  Today my wound is now a scar, a scar that is a reminder of what can occur when you're not careful.