I realize that I seem to be dwelling on the fact that my arm is f*cked. However, if you were in my shoes, I'm fairly certain you, too, would be out of sorts about it. I apologize for the graphic nature of this photograph and the inset picture, but failing to elaborate on the atrocity that is currently my disfigured elbow, I find that an aptly placed photograph can speak volumes, as opposed to what words fail to do.
As stated yesterday, my physician viewed the repair done by the out-of-town doctor, to be less than below par. She stated that more time should've been invested in stitching the laceration up. I would have to agree with that synopsis. While there was only one doctor on hand at the time of my visit, there was also next to no one in the hospital. I'm sure a few minutes more, couldn't have hurt. But I recall the small town doc, showing much disdain and didn't seem very stoked to be working the holiday. On the other hand, she was the one who decided as a young girl that if she studied hard, she could one day become a doctor and flee the backwards life in South Africa. Mind you, being stuck in the middle of a "one-horse town", probably wasn't what she was hoping for either. So in a moment of rebellion, she falsely thought me to be one of the local rubes and stitched my up like she was wearing boxing gloves.
Fine. I get that. I don't like small towns either. But I clearly stated that I was from the city. That statement alone, should've bumped me up to premium care. Instead I get marked for life, needing to explain to onlookers for the rest of my days, why my arm looks like it was chewed by a f*cking rabid badger.
I am not happy. 2012, thus far, is proving itself to be pretty f*cked up. Happy New Year, all!!!
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