A Broken Stitch

So I had some minor surgery the other day on my head. I have been blessed with a genetic condition that causes my hair follicles to get blocked. Once the blockage occurs, a cyst is born.  Over time, just like an oyster creates a pearl, my head produces a hard substance that is encased in a sack.

Over the years, I have produced close to a dozen of these pearls and once they get too large to ignore, I get them taken off. I have been avoiding having these annoying bumps removed due to the distaste for pain and the fact that they don’t bother anyone but me. But after consulting with my dermatologist, I sucked it up and had four of them removed.

Of course, I was sent home with a set of instructions of things that I shouldn’t do for at least twenty-four hours. No bending, stooping, or lifting. To my defense I would like to explain to those of you that haven’t had surgery on your head that there aren’t as many nerve endings so the recovery is pretty painless. The problem with this is that you may tend to do more than you should. Which is exactly what happened to me.

The second I got home, Carl started jumping up on me for attention. Once I calmed him down, Bee and Leo were looking at me so I had to reach down and give them some love. Then it was dinner time for the dogs which again meant scooping down for their food. When I was finally able to sit down to watch some television, Leo climbed up on my lap.

I thought everything was going well until about 8:30 PM. I had just sat down from cleaning the dishes and I felt something wet on my shoulder. I called my husband over to check out the blood I had caught in my hand. Apparently a stitch broke and blood was gushing out of the incision. He immediately found a bandage for me to put on top of the incision.  After a call to my daughter who is a nurse, I was instructed to lie with my head elevated and keep the bandage securely on my head.

This is when the dogs took their positions on the floor next to the couch. All three of them seemed extremely concerned and wouldn’t budge. For the thirty minutes it took for the bleeding to subside, the threesome didn’t take their eyes off of me.

As I lay there, I couldn’t help but think about how God watches over me on a constant basis. He is concerned about me during difficult and joyous occasions. Psalm 121:7-8 states this truth for all who seek the Lord.

“The Lord will keep you from all harm—

He will watch over your life;

The Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore.”

Even though I wasn’t sure if a trip to the emergency room was in order, I was extremely comforted by my dog’s actions. After a while, Leo and Carl made their way up onto the couch and positioned themselves against my body. All was well until Carl woke from a bad dream, saw Leo up against me, and began to growl.

Thankfully, no major fight broke out and we are all doing well. All the dogs have moved on to their own routine and I am healing nicely.

4 thoughts on “A Broken Stitch

  1. Animals are so perceptive. The night I fainted in my kitchen and my neck was broken, my cats curled up on my body and I know it was to keep me warm. I laid on the floor for almost 2 days until help arrived, and aside from going to the bathroom, they stayed on my body pretty much the whole time. God did us a great favor by creating our furry friends.

    1. Terri, thanks for sharing about your two sweet cats. It is amazing how they seem to just know when we need them. God sure does a great job demonstrating his love through our furry friends.. Thinking of you.

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