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Two Hundred Fifty Two.

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So on Sunday I did something I never really saw myself doing.

It’s not something I would have even deemed safe if not for my crazy (loveable) dermatologist telling me to.

“Yeah, yeah! Just wait 10 days and snip them off! It’s easy!”

I removed my own stitches.

The first one came out like a dream: one cut with very tiny scissors and it basically fell out of my foot. The second one, though, put up a fight. The battle involved me, my tiny scissors, a pair of tweezers, and a lot of wincing and loud-talking to myself about stuff that is not stitches.

It was a bit of a harrowing experience.

I can tell you this much: I learned two things that day.

  1. Removing stitches is slightly trickier than my dermatologist made it sound.
  2. I now feel like I’ve earned some sort of degree. So if you need a medical opinion on something, I’m totally comfortable with that.

xA



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