In my last post I briefly touched upon my self-confidence when it came to my hand operation, so I thought today I would explain what all of this was, and explain my feelings through the process.
So it started in the spring/ summer of 2011, I went body boarding at my local beach, and afterwards we went back to my Nan and Grampi’s afterwards. My Grampi first spotted this on my hand, it was a tiny lump. We went back and forwards to the doctors for ages, until we were finally referred to get an x-ray.. And this is where the adventure officially starts.
I went to the x-ray, and I felt fine all the way through this, until they said they could see nothing wrong with my bones, and my heart sunk, as I was really hoping they would know what this was. We then got referred to our big hospital.
We met Dr Scott, a lovely man who examined my hand, and he said it was a rare thing. It was professionally called a ‘Fast Flowing Vascular Malformation’ or as we nicknamed him Jeremy (Like the Jeremy Kyle show in the UK… Yes I know it’s sad). He told us there was only one way to get rid of this, and this was through an operation. I was so scared. Petrified.
After seeing a few more Dr’s, I had 3 options: Live with it (Forget that!!), Have it operated on it and run the risk of.. And this is the scary third option, Have my two fingers amputated to not leave a nasty scar.
I opted for the operation, as not having fingers were a scary thought to little me then. So here are where I can now show some pictures. I got admitted for my operation,and I was freaking the f*** out (Who says I’m not polite?!) So below is what Jeremy looked like:
Now we will have to excuse this next picture, as I look a disagree and was fairly high on local anaesthetic!! This is when I came out of the operation. While they were trying to put me under, I screamed and cried, as I was so scared of what was going to happen to me. I took a bear that I got as a good luck present in with me, and as a surprise, when I woke up they dressed him up for me. I still got him to this day with his outfit and everything.
Now, I would insert pictures of my stitches, but that would just be gross, so let’s forget that! But when I was in recovery time, things were a lot harder. I could not change myself, go to the toilet, even brush my own hair, because my left hand was to weak as I had never used it before. I felt stupid. My mum kept offering to help me do things, but I wanted to do it, I felt little.
Now, almost 4 years on, we have celebrated Jeremy’s birthday every year, and this is what he looks like. And I would not change a thing about what it looks like. The scar defines who I am, the past of me, and I love it.
~ Monsters Living In My Mind ~