Go With The Fleau

My staples came out yesterday. Or rather, I got them pried out of my skull. I’ve had stitches removed a couple of times, which was not fun by any means, but this… my god, was not excruciatingly painful, just not fun & I am glad it ended as quickly as it did.

Apparently the first stitch that Sherri, Doc’s name was Sherri, decided to pull out had already started to scab over. She wanted to go after the most difficult one first, and everything else would be less painful from there on. She went in with her medical plier-like instrument. She tugged once, nothing. She tugged twice, still nothing. And after a failed attempt third tugged, I began to question if this bitch had ever done this before… She verbalized to me that she would be skipping that one and went to the next.

She pulled, and pulled, and pulled, and then came to a pause before she asked me “How many staples did you have again? I told her I was told I had 8. Then again, I did have a concussion and am still suffering from memory loss. Sherri tells me she doesn’t see any more staples, however she’s only pulled out 7.

Great. Sherri, who had so much trouble pulling my first staple out, is now question if she missed one. I’m sure the fact that a few of them started to scab over, as well as the fact that my hair is so thick really didn’t help the situation. My records had to be pulled up, however, while Sherri was in search, this didn’t stop her assistant from annoyingly & vigorously digging through my scalp like this 8^th staple was some fabulous wonderful treasure that if found would allow her to pay of her student loans and dump her job as an assistant.

Apparently I only received 7 staples and was now a little annoyed that all this extra time, and pain, had needed to be spent. But, in the end, I suppose it was better be safe than sorry and I’m kinda glad they’re out now, they were starting to itch and were uncomfortable when I laid down for bed. The end.